My Billionaire CEO Is Obsessed With Me

Emma’s POV I pushed open the heavy wooden door to the apartment I shared with Jade, using the full weight of my hip. The hallway ceiling bulb flickered precariously above me, the same faulty bulb we’d been promising each other we’d replace for the last three months—casting long, dancing shadows down the narrow entryway. I stepped inside, letting the door shut behind me. The familiar, metallic click of the deadbolt sounded like a small, hard-won victory after a long draining day. Immediately, the familiar, comforting scent of our sanctuary wrapped around me. The air smelled like rich vanilla candles competing against the faint, expensive cloud of designer body mists we both loved to overspray like our lives depended on it. It wasn’t some flashy, multi-million-dollar penthouse overlooking Central Park, nothing ridiculous like that, but it was our home and it was comfortable. The floor plan boasted two decent-sized bedrooms with closet space, a living room that didn't make you feel claustrophobic, and a kitchen that allowed two grown women to move around without constantly bumping into each other like idiots. To anyone else, we were just two twenty-six-year-old girls scraping by in the city. But our reality was split down the middle. The stripping gigs and exclusive bookings with ultra-wealthy private clients at Midnight Silk kept the bills paid on time and allowed us to live a hell of a lot better than most girls our age in New York. Still, nothing about that world was stable, and nothing was guaranteed. It was a volatile hustle. One slow month, one bad string of creepy clients, and everything could come crashing down. That exact unpredictability was precisely why tomorrow morning's interview had my stomach tied in tight uncomfortable knots. I dropped the grease-stained McDonald’s bag and a cardboard Starbucks drink tray onto the kitchen counter, the sound of plastic crinkling echoing through the quiet apartment. The heavy aroma of hot fries, seasoned burgers, and sweet caramel coffee immediately bloomed through the air, warm and comforting in a way my exhausting day hadn’t been. “Jade! Get your ass out here! I brought McDonald’s and Starbucks—your favorite dinner is served!” From behind the closed bathroom door down the hall, the loud hiss of running water suddenly cut off, followed instantly by her voice, booming and dramatic as always. “If those f*****g lattes aren’t extra caramel, Emma, I swear to God I’m disowning your ass! For real.” I laughed softly under my breath, kicking off my furry slippers right by the entrance and wiggling my aching toes against the plush rug we’d bought to cover the scuffed hardwood. The living room was dimly lit, cozy in a slightly chaotic way we never bothered fixing during the week. Matching satin throw pillows we’d ordered during a late-night, reckless online shopping spree sat carelessly across the cushions. The massive grey sectional sofa, a luxury we’d proudly splurged on after a particularly lucrative week of VIP bookings—took up almost the entire space, while begging me to sink into it. I flopped onto the cushions, letting my head fall back against the frame as a heavy sigh escaped my lips. I pulled off my thick, black-rimmed reading glasses, tossing them onto the coffee table. Slowly, my body began to relax in small, heavy waves, the day's agonizing tension finally loosening its suffocating grip on my muscles. Jade strutted out of the bathroom a minute later, casually drying her long, dripping braids with a towel. She looked fire, wearing a tiny, shimmering silver club top and micro-shorts that hugged her dangerous curves like they were literally painted onto her skin. She was built like a brick house, and she knew exactly how to market it. Her blue eyes grinned widely the moment they locked onto the fast-food bags. “Damn, Em. McDonald’s and Starbucks? You really went all out tonight, babe. Did you hit some secret jackpot or something?” She snatched one of the iced caramel lattes from the tray, shoving a green straw through the lid and taking an aggressive sip. “Oh, f**k yes. This is hitting the f*****g spot. Spill the tea right now. What’s the occasion?” I grabbed my own cup, the icy condensation chilling my palms as I took a long drag of the sweet, bitter caffeine. “Monday morning interview at Rossi Enterprises. Executive secretary position for the CEO. I am low-key panicking, Jade. Like, full-on, shaking-in-my-boots nerves.” Jade’s eyes lit up like she had just hit the jackpot. She dropped her towel onto the back of a chair and leaped onto the couch beside me, already digging into the large fries. “Rossi Enterprises?” she shrieked, her jaw practically dropping. “As in the Alessandro Rossi? The fine-as-hell Italian billionaire who looks like the f*****g devil himself personally hand-carved him out of marble? That tall, dark-haired, sharp-jawlined, tatted-up Greek god with pure Italian d**k energy? Girl, sit your fine ass up right now and tell me every single detail.” I groaned loudly, grabbing a velvet throw pillow and burying my face into it to muffle my anxiety. “I got a call from HR this evening telling me to come to the headquarters tomorrow morning. The salary is absolutely crazy, Jade. It’s a life-changing money. But if I mess this up, we’re right back to stressing out the second the club has a slow week. Doesn’t mean I want to stop midnight dancing.” Jade pointed a French fry at me, her mouth full as she chewed. “You’re nasty.” She smirked at my last statement. “And you’re gonna kill it, bestie. You’re brilliant, you’re fine as hell, and you've got that signature ‘I’ll beat your ass if you f**k with me’ bad b***h vibe. But listen to me, just don’t let an ounce of Ember slip out tomorrow. Keep her locked away in the closet.” She wiggled her eyebrows, a wicked smirk spreading across her face. “Though... if Alessandro gets one good look at you... whew. That man is trouble with a capital T, honey.” “Stop playing with me, b***h” I said, chuckling as I pulled the pillow away and sat up straight. “I’m going in there as the most boring, professional version of myself. I’m wearing my glasses, a modest, simple office outfit, little to no makeup, and a soft, submissive voice. No sass or attitude. Just compliance: ‘Yes, sir. Of course, sir. How can I assist you today, sir?” Jade burst out laughing so violently she almost choked on her food. She had to slam her drink down on the table and frantically pat her chest, tears pricking her eyes. “You? Quiet and submissive? Baby, that is the biggest cap I have heard of in my entire life! The second someone tries you in that office, that sharp-ass mouth of yours is gonna run like it always does at the club. You can't hide that fire, Em.” “I can behave myself perfectly if there’s a massive bag of money attached to it,” I shot back, grinning despite the anxiety clawing at my chest. “I need this stability, Jade. The private clients pay heavily when they actually show up, but it’s too damn inconsistent. One dry spell and we’re scrambling to make ends meet again. I am so tired of living paycheck to paycheck, even when we’re technically doing okay. I want a real future, but still want to have fun at the club.” Jade’s teasing smile softened, a flash of fierce and protective warmth entering her eyes as she looked at me. But the mischievous sparkle didn't fade for long. She leaned forward, waving another fry around in the air for dramatic emphasis. “Okay, okay, I hear you. But real talk though... if he looks at you during that interview like he wants to slide your panties off and eat you alive right there on the table... just say yes to whatever he asks. Let that man bend your fine ass over that big, fancy desk in his office.” I aggressively threw a crumpled paper napkin directly at her face. It bounced harmlessly off her bare shoulder. “Jade! Shut the f**k up! I’m not trying to get fired before I even get payroll set up. This is a real, high-stakes corporate environment. It’s not the VIP lounge where we dance for rich, desperate creeps who think their black Amex buys a woman’s soul.” “Have you actually seen Alessandro Rossi in person, though?” she asked, her tone suddenly dropping into a surprisingly serious tone. I shook my head, my heart giving a strange, unbidden flutter. “Only in magazines. Why?” “Well, I f*****g have,” Jade said, her eyes widening as she recounted the memory. “He came into Midnight Silk a few weeks ago for some private afterparty. Let me tell you, pictures do not do that man justice. He is lethal, dangerous, and fine as all hell. I actually heard a rumor among the older girls that he low-key owns a massive stake in the club, but nobody can prove it because it’s all hidden behind shell companies.” A cold prickle of apprehension traced its way down my spine. The thought of my billionaire boss having any connection to the dark, hedonistic underground world I survived in made my stomach churn. I hope to God he never sees me at the club. That would be absolute chaos. “Him being a regular at a place like Midnight Silk just means he’s nasty behind closed doors, which is exactly why you should have a little fun with it,” Jade cackled, ducking out of the way as I threw another napkin at her. She took another deep, satisfied gulp of her latte. “Just f*****g imagine it, Em. You bent over his desk, those cute little glasses still resting on your nose, your pencil skirt hiked all the way up to your hips, while he—” “Stop it right now!” I yelled, covering my ears with both hands, cracking up so hard my ribs ached. “I am already a nervous wreck. I do not need your filthy fantasies running through my head when I’m trying to answer serious business questions tomorrow morning.” Jade’s grin only widened, clearly thriving off my embarrassment. “Too late, bestie! It’s locked in your brain now. Just picture it: Mr. Rossi, with that deep, dripping-wet, sexy-as-f**k Italian accent, growling, ‘Miss Laurent, come into my office and take dictation.’ And you reply all breathy, flushed, and sweet... ‘Yes, Daddy.’” I laughed so hard my stomach felt like it was tearing, my cheeks burning a bright, hot crimson. The absurdity of Jade’s mind, mixed with the rush of sugar from the latte, was completely overwhelming. “You are literally the worst best friend in the history of the universe. I swear to God,” I gasped, wiping a tear from my eye. “I am going to go into that skyscraper tomorrow, get this job, be the most flawless, quiet secretary NYC has ever seen, pay our bills on time every single month, and keep my two worlds strictly separate. No mixing business with pleasure. Period.” Jade raised her plastic Starbucks cup high into the air, her face deadpan as she made a dramatic toast. “To the perfect, quiet secretary... who is certainly gonna end up with her billionaire boss’s tatted hand wrapped around her throat and up her skirt by week two. Mark my f*****g words, Emma Laurent.” “Jade, you are wild as hell!” I shouted, chuckling as I chucked a throw pillow at her chest. “What? I’m just speaking facts! Powerful, ruthless men like Alessandro Rossi don't play fair, babe. They see something beautiful that they want, and they f*****g take it. And you, my love, are completely unforgettable. That face, that golden skin, that body, that massive ass... and especially that fierce mouth you try so hard to hide. Trust me, the billionaire isn't f*****g ready for you.” We spent the next hour sitting cross-legged on the couch, demolishing the McDonald’s burgers, nuggets, and fries while practicing intense corporate interview questions. We cracked jokes left and right, the atmosphere light, but the underlying stakes never truly faded. Jade was fully committed to the bit, playing the role of a stern, tyrannical executive. She sat up straight, contorting her pretty face into a fake, scowling expression, using a forced, ridiculously deep voice that sounded nothing like a billionaire CEO. “Miss Laurent,” Jade barked in her terrible, deep-voiced impression, “how do you handle exceptionally difficult, aggressive personalities in the high-stress corporate workplace?” I sat up straight, narrowing my eyes and adjusting the imaginary glasses on the bridge of my nose. “With absolute patience, unwavering professionalism, and a bulletproof work ethic, sir.” Jade snorted loudly, breaking character for a fraction of a second. “Boring as hell, next! Try again. What if your billionaire boss is blatantly staring at your fat ass the entire time like it’s his next f*****g meal?” “I would politely and professionally remind him that I am there to execute administrative tasks, not to be objectified, sir,” I replied in my rehearsed corporate voice, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from bursting into a fit of laughter. Jade clapped her hands together dramatically. “Okay, there’s my girl! Perfect answer! But we both know that if he’s as fine as the internet says he is, that polite little reminder is gonna come out real breathy, weak, and wet. ‘Please, sir, my eyes are up here...’” She batted her long eyelashes for comedic effect, tilting her head back. We dissolved into another fit of breathless laughter, the suffocating stress of the upcoming morning melting away into the cozy apartment air. This was exactly why I loved having Jade as my roommate and my sister. No matter how dangerous or chaotic our lives got between the club and the private clients, she always made everything feel survival-grade, and infinitely fun. Later, as the clock ticked past midnight, we cleaned up the empty fast-food bags and wiped down the sticky counter. Jade’s playful energy finally settled, getting a little more serious as she leaned her hip against the counter, watching me closely. “You’ve got this, Em. For real, though,” she said, her voice dropping to a quiet sincerity. “You are brilliant, you’re beautiful, and you deserve a real, honest shot at something stable. Something better than shaking your ass and entertaining rich, entitled assholes every single night.” Then, a familiar smirk crept back onto her lips, her eyes lighting up with that predatory club energy. “Speaking of which, I’ve got an exclusive booking with this tech-bro client tonight. The geek is paying me four grand flat to dance for him in the private VIP suite for a couple of hours. He is completely obsessed with me, constantly texting my burner phone about how he can’t wait to see me perform. It’s gonna be easy money, and honestly, kinda fun. These rich, desperate dudes love throwing fat stacks of cash when you give them a little attention and act like they’re the only men in the world. I’m gonna twerk a little, maybe give him oral, and walk out with my designer bag significantly heavier. Easy f*****g work.” I shook my head, a warm smile tracing my lips as I tossed the last of the trash into the bin. “Just please be safe out there tonight, Jade. Keep your eyes open. And go make that f*****g money.” “I always am, babe. You know I love to run the damn show.” She stepped forward, pulling me into a tight hug. “Now get your fine ass to sleep. You’ve got a billionaire to impress in the morning. And remember... professional Emma only. Keep Ember locked the f**k away.” I hugged her back just as tight, drawing strength from her. “I will. Thanks, bestie.” I turned and walked down the short hallway to my bedroom, the apartment suddenly quiet except for the low, distant hum of the city traffic outside my window. I stood in front of my full-length mirror for one last minute, adjusting my posture, smoothing down my shirt, and practicing my most polite, non-threatening smile. “You are professional, quiet, and grateful,” I whispered fiercely to my own reflection, staring into my dark eyes. “You’ve got this, Em. You have to.” But deep down, in a dark, neglected corner of my mind, a small, terrifyingly dangerous part of me couldn't help but wonder... what would happen if Alessandro Rossi saw right past the glasses and the modest skirt? I quickly pushed the forbidden thought away, climbed beneath the covers of my bed, and forced my racing mind to submit to sleep. Monday morning was going to change everything.