Chapter 2: Mr Nonchalant CEO
1669 Words
"Hello, Mother.”
Roman Holt stepped into the penthouse loosening the cuff of his watch slightly before tossing his keys onto the console table near the entrance.
“You took forever.” His mother’s voice carried across the room immediately.
Roman glanced up briefly as he walked further inside. Catherine Holt sat near the wall-sized windows with one leg crossed over the other, her heel tapping impatiently against the floor.
The penthouse stretched high above Dallas with glass walls overlooking the city below. Lights glittered endlessly beneath them while the inside of the house carried the same thing every part of Roman’s life did. Wealth. Sharp modern design. White marble floors. Neutral furniture. Clean expensive lines without a single thing out of place.
There were no family photographs anywhere. Nothing personal either.
Roman walked toward the bar area without much urgency.
At thirty four, Roman Holt was already one of the most powerful businessmen in Texas. Holt Holdings operated across luxury hotels, real estate, tech acquisitions and enough investments to keep his name permanently attached to financial headlines. To Roman, wealth wasn’t something to be impressed by. It was simply the background of his life.
“Wine?” he asked casually as he reached for a bottle.
Catherine stared at him. “You’re offering me wine?”
“You said there was an emergency.” Roman poured himself a drink calmly. “I assumed alcohol might help.”
“There is an emergency.”
Roman gave a quiet hum like he did not believe her for a second.
Catherine stood up with a tired sigh, placing both hands against her waist as she looked at her son. “When are you going to answer me about our last discussion?”
Roman lifted his glass slightly before taking a sip. “Which discussion?”
Catherine blinked at him slowly. “Marriage, Roman. Obviously.”
He exhaled softly, almost like a sigh.
“I just heard that the Lawson heir is getting married,” she continued. “And somehow my son who is older than him still acts allergic to commitment.”
Roman looked entirely unbothered. “That sounds difficult for you.”
“It is difficult for me.” Catherine pointed at him. “Do you know how embarrassing it is hearing other women talk about weddings and grandchildren while my son treats relationships like temporary business deals?”
Roman leaned one hip lightly against the counter.
“Mother—”
“No, let me finish.” She folded her arms now. “Do you not want me to hold my grandchildren before I pass away?”
Roman closed his eyes briefly. “I hate when you talk like that.”
“Well maybe if you stopped dodging this conversation, I wouldn’t have to.”
Roman finally turned properly toward her, and the exhaustion beneath the dramatics became clear. He sighed again before setting his drink down and walking toward her.
His hands settled lightly against her shoulders. “You really need to stop stressing yourself over this.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Roman smiled faintly despite himself.
“I’m serious.” His voice softened slightly. “I don’t think I’m ready for marriage.” He paused briefly. “As a matter of fact, I don’t even know what weddings are supposed to be like. I’ve never attended one.”
Catherine gave him a look.
Roman’s mouth curved slightly. “But I promise I’ll present a woman to you soon.”
Her expression immediately hardened again. “I do not want just any woman.”
Roman already knew where this was going.
“I want a wife,” she corrected firmly. “A proper wife. Someone carrying the Holt name. Someone who will give me grandchildren.”
Roman chuckled quietly under his breath. “I’ve heard you.”
“You better have.”
A small silence settled between them before Roman tilted his head slightly. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “You can stay the night if you want.”
Catherine immediately shook her head. “No. I’m going back to my husband’s house.” Then she narrowed her eyes at him slightly. “I wish I had a daughter-in-law who could say the same thing.”
Roman laughed softly this time.
Catherine picked up her handbag from the couch before heading toward the door.
Just before leaving, she turned back toward him again. “Think about what I said.”
“I always do.”
She gave him one final look before leaving. The door shut quietly behind her.
Roman picked up his glass again before taking another sip.
“I love you too, Mother,” he muttered under his breath.
A few days later, Roman Holt sat behind his desk flipping through stacks of wedding bulletins, printed registries and ceremony schedules like they were financial reports.
“Why is this so difficult,” he muttered under his breath, flipping to the next page. “It’s just people getting married.”
The door opened quietly. Miles stepped in and stopped almost immediately. For a second, he just stood there, taking in the sight in silence. Roman Holt, CEO of Holt Holdings, surrounded by wedding flyers like he was preparing for a hostile takeover of matrimony itself.
Miles blinked. “Sir…” he started carefully. “What exactly is going on here?”
Roman didn’t look up. “I’m trying to understand something.”
Miles closed the door behind him slowly. “Understand what, exactly?”
Roman finally leaned back in his chair, exhaling like the answer should have been obvious. “Weddings.”
Miles paused. “Weddings.”
“Yes.” Roman tapped the paper in front of him. “I’ve never attended one. My mother thinks it’s a problem. So I’m fixing it.”
Miles stared at him. “You’re serious right now, boss?”
Roman finally looked up at him. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
Miles glanced at the scattered papers again. “Honestly? I don’t even know anymore.”
Roman gestured at the desk. “Instead of standing there, help me find one I can attend.”
Miles opened his mouth, then closed it again. “You can’t just attend a wedding.”
“Why not?”
“Because weddings are for invited guests.”
Roman leaned forward slightly. “That makes it easier.”
Miles exhaled through his nose. “That is not how social events work.”
Roman ignored him and went back to the papers. “Just find me one. There has to be at least one happening today.”
Miles rubbed the back of his neck, still trying to process what reality had turned into. Then, reluctantly, he stepped closer and started flipping through the stack.
Minutes passed.
Then he paused.
“Actually…” Miles said slowly, narrowing his eyes at one of the listings. “There’s a place with multiple ceremonies today.”
Roman’s gaze lifted instantly.
Miles continued, still uncertain. “Three weddings. Same venue. High-profile bookings.”
The atmosphere in the room shifted immediately.
Roman leaned back, fingers resting lightly on the arm of his chair. Something shifted behind his calm expression. It wasn’t exactly excitement, but he looked entertained, interested.
“Three,” he repeated.
Miles nodded cautiously. “Yes, sir.”
A slow silence stretched between them.
Then Roman stood.
“Perfect,” he said simply, already reaching for his jacket.
Miles straightened. “Sir, I should remind you again, weddings are for invited—”
Roman slipped his jacket on with calm precision, cutting him off without even looking his way.
“That makes it more interesting,” he said.
He picked up his keys.
Miles sighed under his breath. “Of course it does.”
Roman walked toward the door, already done with the conversation.
“Let’s go,” he said. “We’re not missing this.”
They arrived at the venue earlier than expected.
Roman stepped out of the car first, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve as his gaze moved slowly across the entrance. It didn’t take long to realize what kind of place it was. Guests were already moving in different directions, staff holding printed schedules, voices overlapping as three separate ceremonies were being organized in different buildings.
Miles came around the car and stopped beside him. “So… which one are we actually attending, sir?”
Roman didn’t answer immediately. His hands slid into his pockets as he looked around again, assessing the couples that were about to get married.
“It should be obvious,” he said after a moment.
Miles followed his line of sight. “Nothing about this is obvious.”
Roman didn’t respond. His attention had already drifted elsewhere.
A few steps away, near one of the side entrances, a bride stood with her bouquet held too tightly in her hands. Her head was slightly lowered, posture still. Behind her, the man she was about to marry leaned in close, speaking into her ear in a way that didn’t look gentle. His hand rested firmly on her shoulder, holding her in place.
Something about it didn’t sit right.
Roman watched for a moment longer before his focus shifted slightly and the angle changed just enough for him to see her face properly.
Then he recognized her.
The same woman from the sidewalk. The one who had bumped into him and walked away without a second glance.
A faint smile formed at the edge of his mouth like the situation had suddenly become more interesting than it had any right to be.
Roman exhaled softly and finally spoke. “That one,” he said.
Miles turned slightly. “Sir?”
Roman didn’t take his eyes off her. “That is the one I’m attending.”
Miles followed his gaze toward the bride and frowned slightly. “Do you know them?”
Roman’s eyes stayed on Lena. “No,” he said calmly. “But I think I’m about to.”
- Writer
