From my Bully to CEO

Chapter 16

PRESENT

SELENE’S POV:

Grandma’s house was just as I remembered it ten years ago. The wide halls stretched endlessly, the stone walls— slightly rusted and weathered—made the entire place seem like it’d jumped straight out of a fairytale. Paintings and plants still adorned the spaces.

And yet, it all felt different now. There were no echoes of boots as servants hurried about, no warm scent of food wafting up from the kitchen, no clatter of utensils or the harmless bickering of the staff.

Most of all, there was no Grandma. No trace of her perfume—the one I used to tease her for, calling it “old lady perfume.” No warm laughter drifting from her room. No steady thud, thud of her cane as she emerged to scold a servant or settle another one of their pointless debates.

She died at the end of my school year, just when I had finally begun to accept life in East End. Just when the town had stopped feeling like a prison, when I started to let go of LA as home.

And then she was gone. And everything I had been piecing together came crashing down.

I hated how little time I’d had with her. Too much of it wasted on being angry—angry at myself, at my aunt and uncle, and even at her. Angry that she hadn’t wanted me sooner, that she’d left me in their care in the first place.

But she was gone, and none of it had mattered. Not the whispered promises I never said aloud, not the hugs I put off, not even the chance to breathe in that old lady perfume one last time.

She was the only reason I was staying in East End but then that reason had been snatched from me and the house had turned haunted, snatching the breathe from my lungs the moment I tried to step inside.

So, I packed my bags and fled. LA no longer held the same allure, but it was the only place I had left.

Grandma had left the mansion and a small fortune in my name—something that had left me dizzy with shock for two entire days. Mostly because I didn’t want to believe she loved me that deeply.

I always overestimated people’s love for me—mostly because I loved too much and had always thought I’d be loved like that in return as well. I learned my lesson with my aunt and uncle and so, I never expected anything more from Grandma.

I loved her, of course. I warmed up to her slowly. I taken care of her and I sat with her until the early hours of the morning in her garden as we stared at the stars.

But I never said the words outloud. Never told her how much this house and this odd little family comprised of her staff meant to me.

And I definitely hadn’t known that this had meant just as much to her. Enough to leave everything she owned to me.

The knowledge had only hurt more. That there was so much left unsaid between us.

Her inheritance, though, had kept me afloat. It had bought me time—a flat to live in, a cushion against panic, enough space to rebuild a life without fear of going under. It was the only reason I hadn’t ended up on the streets.

I stayed in touch with the staff at Beverly Manor. Those people had been Grandma’s family and they’d very quickly become mine too.

She left them small tokens in her will, but it fell on me to be the bad guy and tell them they couldn’t keep working in the home where generations of them and their kids had grew up in.

I had money, but not enough to run a life in LA and pay an entire staff to care for a house I knew I was never going to live in.

They understood, gracious as always. Still, I asked them to visit once a month, to keep the house breathing.

Letting it go entirely felt like disrespecting Grandma’s memory.

Everything was going smoothly, until one month ago. I checked my savings account and realized my money was depleting a little too fast. To top it off, my landlord had just increased the rent of my apartment.

Coming back to East End hadn’t been my only option, of course. I had real estate investments, even a small house in downtown LA that brought in steady rent. I wasn’t going to go bankrupt anytime soon. But maybe the dwindling savings were just the excuse I needed.

Because the truth was, those ten years in LA had hollowed me out. I hadn’t been able to breathe ever since I moved back, let alone live. I’d barely been surviving.

I was lonely. None of my relationships seemed to last, as if I’d somehow became cursed. My job drained more than it gave.

Most mornings, I felt like a ghost trapped in my own body—something intangible and ephemeral, drifting through life without leaving a single mark behind.

And, of course, the only solution had been East End. The only place that had made me feel more alive than ever.

It was never the town, a small, timid voice from the very back of my mind, whispered. I shut it down too fast.

When I come back, the only thing in my mind had been to stay far far away from Grayson. But maybe I somehow manifested this hellhole I was in now. Unintentionally, subconsciously.

I groaned and pulled my hair up in a ponytail, tilting my head sideway to see if an updo would look worse or letting my hair down would look messier.

I wasn’t sure why I was bothering at all. My clothes alone should’ve been enough of f**k you to him but I still wanted to make sure I looked my worst.

So, I went out of my way to find the ugliest, most hideous clothes in my wardrobe.

Petty, yes but I wanted to make sure he knew that I wasn’t doing this because I wanted to.

I wore my oldest tee shirt, with faded graphic print on the front. It once said ‘baddest b***h’ in bold, neon letters but now, the baddest had faded entirely and it only said b***h.

I paired it with sweatpants that were still relatively new but still very worn out and they sagged at the knees. My sneakers were the only part of my outfit that looked clean and new.

I didn’t care about my reputation. I was going to survive being photographed and captioned homeless in the newspaper that I was sure would come next morning.

But Grayson, oh the way it would ruin his reputation. Because I knew he was going to take me to some place fancy, ever the vain little asshole. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity to rub his money in my face.

And he was too recognizable to go unnoticed. But even if he somehow managed to take me to some place entirely secluded or did something outrageous like booking the entire restaurant for the night, I had a backup plan.

The press was going to capture me on his arm one way or another.

The fact that he was dating his secretary was enough to put a dent in his precious image. And to top it off, I looked like roadkill.

It would be a double win for me. Something to rub in his face for being a genius and hiring a secondary secretary.

The thought sent a shiver of anticipation through me and I found myself smiling. I gave my head a little shake and immediately wiped the smile off my face.

It was a little unhinged, the way everything Grayson related made my pulse pound harder.

Maybe this had been the one thing missing from my life and maybe a twisted, f****d up part of me knew there was no corner of the world that could make me feel this thrill again.

Except East End. Except Grayson Vexley.

A knock on the door bought me out of my thoughts and I let go of the hair I was holding up in a ponytail.

“Come in,” I called and the door cracked an inch and Bella stepped in.

She was the daughter of our cook, a few years older than me and the first person I’d called a friend in this town.

“Going on a date?” She asked, sitting on the edge of my bed as she took in my attire. Her nose scrunched up in unmasked disgust and she raised an eyebrow in question.

“Yes,” I said with enthusiasm that didn’t feel entirely fake now. Mostly because I was going to get a one up on Grayson Vexley.

I ended up throwing my hair in a messy bun because nothing screamed homeless chic quite like a messy bun.

“Dear God,” Bella breathed, her disgust giving way to full blown horror. “Sel, did you hit your head today? Are you okay?”

I giggled and joined Bella on my bed. “I’m fine. This is all very intentional.”

Her frown only deepened. “I should hope so. Otherwise, I’d be calling a doctor.”

I hummed in response, my eyes falling on the lipstick on my vanity.

“Should I go for a lipstick or does this hit the mark?” I asked her.

“What mark?” She asked. “Desperate beggar on the verge of eviction? Than yes, you nailed it.”

I clapped my hands together and jumped up from my bed.

“Wonderful,” I said, giving her a dazzling grin.

She blinked. “What has the poor boy done to deserve this, Sel?”

I looked at her for a second while I made my mind whether to tell her the truth or not.

“It’s Grayson Vexley.”

The exaggerated look of concern faded from her face in an instant and then she was scowling.

“Why the hell are you going on a date with him?” She asked.

She knew all about our Highschool history and then the way he’d threatened to take the house from me to keep me tied to the job.

I sighed, the sound echoing around us. “It’s a long story.”

As if right on cue, a horn blared outside the house. Despite telling myself that I didn’t care, my feet forced me towards my window.

I pulled the curtains aside and saw his sleek black audi parked at the front door, collecting shadows.

“You’re telling me everything,” Bella said, joining me at the window.

I nodded before rushing back to my vanity. I yanked the drawer open and pulled out a perfume, still in it’s box. It was the one Grandma always used. The old lady perfume.

I never used it myself but I still kept one near me at all times. Especially when I’d first moved back to LA. When the weight on my chest had felt unbearable and the silence had felt too thick. I’d used to spray it in the room to feel that fragile sense of comfort. Like a perfume or a smell could ever mimic the warmth of the real thing.

But it carried me through. Helped me push past some of the more darker nights.

I sprayed it on myself before putting it back in its box and sliding it in the drawer. It felt like the perfect final touch.

“Come here,” Bella said as she walked over to me and pulled my shirt slightly sideway so that the suspicious looking stain was now in the front. “Perfect. Looks absolutely front page material now.”

I grinned. “Thank you.”

“Make sure this hurts him,” she added with a solemn nod. This home was hers as much as it was mine and Grayson had made too many enemies by threatening it.

“You know I will,” I answered before rushing out my room and down the stairs to the car waiting for me.