My CEO My Mistake

The rain outside had not stopped. It lashed against the tall windows of the five-star hotel like a thousand whispering hands, a relentless rhythm that filled the night with unease. Thunder rumbled in the distance, briefly illuminating the skyline beyond. Inside room 505, the silence between the stormbeats was broken only by the muffled sobs of a young girl. She sat curled up on the king-sized bed, her delicate frame almost swallowed by the sea of white silk sheets. Her long lashes, wet with tears, clung together as she buried her face in her hands. From the bathroom came the steady sound of running water. Steam began to seep out from the half-open door, blurring the mirror that hung nearby. The girl stiffened. She held her breath. Every instinct in her body screamed that she should run but her legs were rooted to the spot. The door swung open. A tall figure emerged, draped in mist. His dark hair was damp, droplets running down his temples, and he carried himself with a natural authority that seemed to command the very air around him. A towel hung loosely around his neck, brushing against the firm lines of his shoulders. He was dazzling, almost unreal. His presence was the kind that turned heads without effort, an aura carved from years of power and restraint. The girl’s breath hitched. Her heart raced. Why… why does he have to look like that? She quickly lowered her gaze, frantically wiping away the tears that betrayed her vulnerability. The man stopped, his sharp eyes landing on her trembling figure. A frown tugged at his lips. “Aren’t you going to take it off?” His voice was deep, cold, and carried a hint of impatience. The girl’s head snapped up, eyes wide in disbelief. Take it off? Her mind spun. What… what does he mean? “I…” she stammered, clutching her coat tighter around her. “Isn’t this… too fast?” His brows knitted. “Hm?” That single sound half a question, half a warning dripped with irritation. Her palms turned clammy. Desperate to appease him, she fumbled with the zipper of her coat, her fingers trembling too much to pull it down. The zipper caught, refusing to move despite her frantic tugging. The man’s eyes darkened as he tossed the towel aside. The faint scent of mint followed him as he strode across the room, his tall shadow looming over her. She froze, clutching the hem of her coat like a lifeline. “I… I’m almost done…” she whispered, her voice breaking. His gaze lingered on her, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Are you experienced?” he asked suddenly. Her mind went blank. Experienced? A thousand thoughts collided at once. Wait… wasn’t he supposed to prefer first-timers? Why is he asking that now? Her lips parted, but no words came out. He gave a low chuckle, though it carried no warmth. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to act innocent. Is that the new game?” Her stomach twisted. Something about his tone, his words, it didn’t align with what she had been told. Something is wrong… terribly wrong. But she forced herself to smile faintly, trying to hide her panic. “Well… don’t you think it’s… more interesting this way?” The man’s eyes narrowed, then a smirk curved his lips. “You’re bold. Switching things up, are you?” Before she could process his words, he leaned closer, his presence suffocating. His hand pressed against the bedframe, caging her in without touching her. She panicked, instinctively lifting her hands. “W-wait a minute…” Her voice was so fragile it almost drowned beneath the sound of rain. The man stilled, frowning slightly. Seeing his displeasure, she quickly retracted her hands, her heart hammering. “Since we’re… acting like it’s my first time,” she whispered carefully, “then… sir, could you be… gentler?” Silence. His eyes bore into hers, sharp and unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, he gave a short laugh. “You like gentlemen?” She bit her lip, unable to answer. His expression shifted no longer irritation, but intrigue. His gaze flicked toward the table by the window. With a casual tilt of his chin, he said, “One million dollars.” Her brows knitted in confusion. “…What?” He gestured slightly, and her eyes followed. On the polished wooden table lay a check. The ink shimmered faintly under the golden lamplight. The amount written on it was enough to steal the breath from her lungs. “One million dollars,” he repeated, his voice low but steady, “That’s the price.” Her blood ran cold. Her fists clenched at her sides before slowly loosening. Double the original offer? A hollow ache spread through her chest. It was money, Money that could change everything. Yet the weight of it pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating. The man, however, seemed entirely unmoved. His eyes were sharp, calculating, as though testing her. She swallowed hard, her voice trembling. “Why… double it? Why me?” His smirk returned, but this time it was laced with something darker. “Because you’re not what I expected.” Her breath caught. Was that… good or bad? She couldn’t tell. The storm outside raged on, the rain battering against the windows like frantic applause. Inside, the air grew heavier with each passing second. She dared to lift her gaze to him again, and for the first time, she noticed something strange in his eyes not just arrogance, not just dominance. Beneath it all, a flicker of… loneliness? Or was it danger? Her heart twisted. The man stepped back slightly, finally granting her space. “You’re trembling,” he observed coolly. “Are you afraid of me?” She opened her mouth, then closed it. What could she say? Yes? No? Either answer felt like a trap. Instead, she whispered, “Wouldn’t anyone be afraid?” For the first time, his smirk faltered. The silence stretched. Then he turned, his tall figure framed by the dim light. “Interesting,” he murmured. “Very interesting.” The girl sat frozen on the bed, her thoughts tangled, her heart still racing. The check lay on the table, gleaming like temptation and curse all at once. And though the night was far from over, she realized with a chill this was only the beginning.