MR. GRUMPY [THAT COLD-HEARTED CEO]

CHAPTER 13

I needed a drink.

A strong one.

The moment I walked into the luxurious, dimly lit club, the bass from the music pounded in my chest, mixing with the tension still thrumming through my veins.

It was an expensive place, exclusive to high-class clientele—a sanctuary for the rich and restless.

And I was a regular.

Here, money was power, and everyone was someone.

I strode through the lavish interior, my tailored suit still crisp, despite the stress of the day.

The air smelled of aged whiskey, expensive cologne, and temptation.

I just wanted to drown everything out—the pressure, the expectations, and most of all, the absolute disaster that was Maurice Miranda.

As I made my way to the bar, I heard a familiar voice call out—

"Well, well, well. If it isn’t the great Fabian Isidore, looking like he just lost a million-dollar deal."

I gritted my teeth before even turning around.

Rex Montague.

Trust this arrogant bastard to always greet me with an insult.

I turned and saw him leaning against a VIP lounge seat, a cocky smirk on his face, his glass of bourbon swirling lazily in his hand.

Rex was rich, powerful, and completely insufferable.

He ran Montague Publications, one of the biggest media empires in the country.

And right now, he was laughing at me.

"What the hell happened to you, Fabian?" he continued, amusement dancing in his eyes. "That woman really got into your nerves!"

My scowl deepened.

I was this close to telling him to shove it—until he pulled out his phone and shoved it in my face.

And there, on the screen, was a viral video.

A video of Maurice Miranda.

…Causing a scandal in my company.

I stiffened, watching the screen as the footage played.

Maurice stood in the middle of my company lobby, absolutely fuming.

Her wet hair was sticking to her face–probably of sweats, her clothes disheveled, but her eyes were blazing.

She looked furious—and reckless.

And worst of all?

She was shouting at secretary, cursing my name, and causing a full-blown scene.

I could hear her voice—loud and defiant—through the video.

"Fire me?! Oh, please! If you think this company will crumble without me, you're damn wrong! You should be on your knees thanking me for even bothering to clean up after your mess!" I actually forgot he said that, though, nevertheless, it was in the video. She's far more that I expected.

The video ended with maybe, a friend of her, also an employee of mine, dragging her out, while employees whispered and stared.

It had over a million views.

And the comments?

Filled with people mocking my company, praising Maurice for her ‘boldness’, and calling me…

A ‘cold-hearted CEO with no soul.’

I clenched my jaw, forcing my expression to stay neutral as I handed the phone back.

Then, I exhaled sharply.

Damn it.

I should have had security wipe all footage immediately.

Rex, of course, was laughing his ass off.

"Unbelievable!" he said, shaking his head. "This woman—your ex-janitor, right?—just became the talk of the town. You must be so proud!"

I shot him a warning glare.

"Shut up, Rex," I muttered.

He smirked. "Oh, come on. Don’t tell me it’s bothering you?"

Of course, it was.

A scandal like this was bad for business.

Investors didn’t like drama.

And my father? He was already disappointed enough without seeing me at dinner with the Elwood family.

I tilted my head back, exhaling through my nose.

Then, I turned and walked straight to the bar.

I needed a drink before I punched someone.

"Whiskey. Straight," I told the bartender.

The man nodded, pouring me a glass of deep amber liquid before sliding it over.

I picked it up and took a long sip.

The burn was sharp, familiar—a welcome distraction.

For a moment, I just sat there, staring at my reflection in the bar counter.

Everything felt exhausting.

I used to think being at the top was worth it—that all the power, the status, the money, would make everything easier.

But lately…

It didn’t feel like that at all.

It just felt like one endless responsibility after another.

I closed my eyes, willing the frustration away.

I barely noticed when Rex sat beside me, ordering his own drink.

"You look like you’re about to throw yourself off a building," he mused. "That bad, huh?"

I didn’t answer.

I just took another sip.

He sighed. "Look, Fabian, if you want my advice—"

"I don’t."

"But you’re getting it anyway," he said, unfazed. "That woman? She’s a nobody. Let the internet have their fun. This will blow over in a week."

I stared at him, unimpressed.

Rex was many things—a businessman, a playboy, an insufferable bastard—but he wasn’t an i***t.

He knew how the media worked.

And he knew that scandals weren’t that simple to erase.

I tapped my fingers against my glass.

"You wouldn’t publish something like this, would you?" I asked, my tone sharp.

Rex raised a brow, then grinned.

"I don’t know," he said, swirling his drink. "It would make a fantastic headline."

I glared at him.

He laughed. "Relax, Isidore. I’m not your enemy."

That didn’t reassure me at all.

Rex loved drama.

And he loved money even more.

If this story was juicy enough, he wouldn’t hesitate to cash in on it.

And if that happened, Maurice Miranda wouldn’t just be an internet sensation—she’d be on the front page of every damn news outlet in the city.

Which meant my company?

Would suffer.

I gritted my teeth.

"I swear, Rex, if I see this on any of your platforms—"

He held up his hands. "Relax. I won’t publish anything… yet."

I didn’t like the way he said that.

At all.

I downed the rest of my whiskey, feeling the warmth spread through my chest.

But it wasn’t enough to drown the annoyance creeping up my spine.

Maurice Miranda.

What a damn headache.

Maybe I should have just ignored her outburst. Maybe I should have handled things more quietly.

But no.

I fired her on the spot. Publicly.

And now?

She was ruining my peace without even being in the same room.

Great.

I sighed and rubbed my temple.

Rex was still watching me, looking far too entertained by my misery.

"You know," he mused, "if she’s really that much of a problem, there’s always a way to… deal with her."

I looked at him sharply.

He chuckled. "Relax, I don’t mean that. I’m saying, maybe you should make a deal."

I frowned. "What kind of deal?"

"Shut her up," he said simply. "Give her what she wants. A settlement. A new job. Something."

I scoffed. "She doesn’t deserve it."

"Maybe not," he admitted. "But you don’t want this to drag on, do you? The longer she stays relevant, the more people will dig into your company. And let’s be real—" he smirked, taking a sip of his drink—"you’re not exactly scandal-free yourself, are you?"

I stiffened.

His words hung between us like a loaded gun.

I knew what he was implying.

My past.

The things I’d buried.

The things I didn’t want anyone uncovering.

For the first time tonight, I felt a different kind of tension settle in my chest.

Damn it.

Maybe Rex was right.

Maybe I did need to handle this Maurice situation… carefully.

But one thing was certain—

This woman?

Was going to regret ever crossing me.