My Rival is My CEO

Chapter 10:One Desk, 2 Bosses

ELENA'S POV

It was the next morning. 7:45 AM. I was early on purpose.

I wanted to get to the CEO office first to claim it. After yesterday's 2019 Agreement bomb, I wasn't going to let Damian Knight think he owned me.

I pushed the glass doors open.

And froze.

My desk was gone. My chair, my photos, my whiteboard with the Savannah plan — all gone.

In the middle of the huge office was ONE desk. One massive black desk. And two chairs on opposite sides.

And Damian Knight was already sitting in one, in a grey suit, sleeves pushed up, typing like he owned the world.

"You're late," he said without looking up.

"Where is my desk?" I asked, voice sharp.

"Charles had it removed at 6 AM. His words, not mine: 'If you're going to be married in 30 days, you can learn to share an office in one day.'"

I slammed my bag down. "I am not sharing a desk with you."

"You are. Rule from your father. We co-CEO or we lose everything. So we share."

I looked at the setup. One desk. That means our knees would touch. Our laptops side by side. Our hands brushing for coffee.

Hell.

I sat down opposite him. The chair was too close. I could smell him. That same cologne from the elevator yesterday. Clean, expensive, dangerous.

He finally looked up. His eyes dropped to my dress. It was a tight black office dress. I wore it on purpose.

"Nice dress, Evans," he said, voice low.

"Don't look at me like that, Knight."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm already your wife."

He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. Now his face was only a foot from mine. I could see his eyelashes. His mouth.

"But you are, wifey. In 30 days. The press already picked your wedding dress."

I rolled my eyes, but my heart pounded a little bit more than usual at his words. "Fake wife. Six months. Remember? Rule one: no falling for me."

He smirked. That savage, slow smirk that made the interns trip in the hallway.

"Oh, I remember. Rule two: you ruin me. I'm still waiting, Evans."

I opened my laptop, trying to ignore him. An email popped up from Charles, CC'd to all staff.

SUBJECT: NEW OFFICE ARRANGEMENT FOR THE SOON-TO-BE MR & MRS KNIGHT

"Are you kidding me?" I muttered.

Damian laughed. "He's enjoying this too much."

Just then, I reached for the power outlet at the same time he did. Our hands touched. Hot. Sparks. Not electric — real.

I pulled back fast. He didn't.

"You good?" he asked, but his eyes were dark.

"I'm fine. Just... don't touch me without asking."

"Noted. Mrs. Knight."

I wanted to throw my coffee at him.

DAMIAN'S POV

She thinks she is hiding it. She isn't.

Elena Evans in that black dress that hugs every curve she pretends not to have, sitting across from me, knees almost touching mine under this stupid single desk. Charles is a bastard, but he's a smart bastard. He knew this would drive us insane.

She was late yesterday. 8:05 AM. Hair still wet, lipstick not even done, breathing fast because she ran. She thinks I didn't notice. I noticed everything. I notice everything about her now.

It started after the gala. Her in my jacket on the balcony. Small, shivering, eyes big and angry because she didn't want to need me. And I gave her the jacket anyway. I wanted to.

Now this 2019 Agreement. My father signed her away like property. When I read that clause, I saw red. Not because of the merger. Because she was 16. My Elena was 16 and they were trading her.

Wait. My Elena? Since when?

I watched her now, typing furiously, pretending I don't exist. But her neck is red. Her heart is beating fast, I can see it in her throat.

When our hands touched by the outlet, she pulled back like I burned her. Good. That means she felt it too.

The email from my father came in. NEW OFFICE ARRANGEMENT FOR THE SOON-TO-BE MR & MRS KNIGHT. The whole company is watching us.

I leaned forward. I couldn't help it. She smells like vanilla and ambition. The most dangerous combination I ever knew.

"Nice dress, Evans," I said.

"Don't look at me like that, Knight."

I wanted to tell her how I really look at her. Like she is the only person in this city who isn't scared of me. Like she is the only CEO who can keep up.

Instead I said, "Like what?"

"Like I'm already your wife."

God, wife. The word should sound like a prison. It doesn't. Not when it's her.

"But you are, wifey. In 30 days."

She did that eye roll that makes me want to kiss her stupid.

"Fake wife. Six months. Remember? Rule one: no falling for me."

I smirked. Rule one. The rule I am already breaking.

"Oh, I remember. Rule two: you ruin me. I'm still waiting, Evans."

I meant it. Ruin me. Please.

She reached for the outlet. I did too. Our hands touched. Hers is soft, small. Mine dwarfs it. Electricity shot up my arm. She pulled away like she got shocked.

"You good?" I asked, voice rougher than I wanted.

"I'm fine. Just... don't touch me without asking."

"Noted. Mrs. Knight."

She glared. That savage Evans glare that used to mean war at Crestwood. Now it means something else. Something that makes my heart pound a little bit more than usual.

Before I could say more, the office doors burst open.

Charles. My father. And behind him — two housekeepers rolling in two suitcases.

One pink. One black.

Elena stood up so fast her chair screeched. "What is this?"

Charles smiled, evil. "Clause 9.4, children. You forgot to read the small print. 'Heirs must cohabitate during the engagement period to prove the marriage is real to the press.' Your old apartments? Leased out. As of this morning."

He slid a key across our shared desk. One key. One penthouse address.

"One bedroom. You move in tonight. The Wall Street Journal photographer comes at 8 AM tomorrow to get your 'happy at home' photos."

ELENA'S POV - CONTINUED

One bedroom?

My eyes snapped to Damian. His face had lost all its smirk.

"You're lying," I whispered to Charles.

"Am I?" Charles said, pulling up his phone. On screen — a live feed of my apartment. Empty. Boxes gone. "Movers already came, Elena. You have nowhere else to go."

Damian grabbed the key so hard his knuckles went white. He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw panic in his eyes too.

One desk. One key. One bed?

Tonight?