MY CEO

Is This is still a Game

When the game begins to bleed into your bones, it’s no longer just a game.”

Adrian Pov

Monday

He told himself he wouldn’t look for Ethan.

And he didn’t. Not really.

He just happened to glance toward the bullpen more than usual. Just happened to pause by the glass railing overlooking the floor below for longer than necessary. Just happened to tune into the sound of Ethan’s voice when he answered someone’s question or quietly laughed at a joke that wasn’t meant to be funny.

Adrian didn’t make mistakes.

But there was something crawling beneath his skin that felt suspiciously like error.

He had planned this: silence, withdrawal, emotional fog. All of it was designed. Ethan was the experiment, and Adrian was the scientist with the scalpel. He was the one in control.

Except the scalpel was beginning to tremble.

He watched Ethan through tinted glass and told himself he didn’t care. Told himself it was just the game. Told himself the weekend message had been bait—nothing more—and Ethan, like all his playthings before him, would tire and break.

But Ethan didn’t break.

He didn’t seek Adrian out. He didn’t knock on the glass door with a flushed face or watery eyes. He didn’t so much as glance at him.

That was worse.

Far worse.

Adrian sat at his desk, hands steepled in front of him, a report spread open but unread. He didn’t realize how long he’d been staring at the same paragraph until his assistant brought in a second coffee.

“You okay, sir?” she asked lightly.

He blinked. “Fine. Just focused.”

A lie.

Tuesday

He tried to bury himself in work. Calls. Reports. Meetings. More meetings. A call with a Singaporean investor that should have been routine but dragged on because he kept misplacing numbers in his head.

“What’s going on with you today?” his CFO asked with a raised brow.

“Jetlag,” Adrian muttered, though he hadn’t traveled in two weeks.

He skipped lunch, just so he could walk past Ethan’s desk on his way to nowhere. He didn’t stop. Didn’t say anything. Just walked by slowly enough that the cologne he wore might drift over.

Ethan didn’t look up.

Adrian didn’t know why that infuriated him.

He returned to his office, slammed the door louder than necessary, and told himself this was fine. Expected. The boy was obviously irritated. Confused. Emotionally scrambled.

That was what Adrian wanted.

Right?

Then why was his stomach tight all afternoon? Why did his fingers twitch to send another message? Just one more. Something vague. Something subtle. Something that might break the silence.

But he didn’t.

Because this wasn’t supposed to be that.

It was a game.

A beautiful, cruel game.

Still, Adrian couldn't keep the tension from knotting between his shoulders. His assistant noticed, hovering for a moment too long at his door, before she finally left him to his silence. The empty silence.

He stayed late that night.

Alone in the glass-walled office, the city shimmering outside like a field of stars.

And Ethan, that damned intern, occupied too much of Adrian’s mind.

Wednesday

The day of the meeting.

Adrian hadn’t meant to snap. Not really.

He’d entered the conference room like he always did—sharp suit, sharper expression. The air turned electric when he walked in, as it always did. Everyone sat straighter. Phones were pocketed. Notepads opened.

Ethan was seated in the second row, near the window. Close enough to be useful. Far enough not to look suspicious.

The presentation began.

Slides. Charts. A client proposal they’d been refining for weeks. The team lead walked everyone through the campaign metrics, performance data, and upcoming pitch strategies.

And then came the numbers.

That’s when it happened.

“Who prepped these figures?” Adrian asked suddenly, voice a quiet blade.

There was a pause.

Everyone looked at each other.

Ethan raised his hand.

Adrian didn’t smile.

“You ran the analytics?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s a thirty-two percent discrepancy here,” Adrian said, standing slowly. “This projection doesn’t align with the actual engagement averages. Did you double-check against the active client metrics from last quarter?”

Ethan hesitated. Just a second. A flicker.

“No, sir. I—I reviewed what was sent—”

“Then you didn’t check.”

The room froze.

Adrian stepped closer. Not shouting. Not loud. Just cold.

“You presented false data in front of a team that will be taking this proposal to investors next week. You put our credibility on the line. If I hadn’t caught that—”

He stopped. The silence was thick.

Ethan looked down.

Adrian stared at him for a breath longer than necessary.

Then, without another word, he turned back to the screen.

“Fix it. All of it. By end of day.”

“Yes, sir.”

The rest of the meeting blurred by.

Adrian didn’t look at Ethan again.

But he felt every breath the boy took.

Thursday

He regretted it.

No, not regret. That wasn’t it.

He was bothered.

The words had come too sharp. Too fast. The coldness had been real this time—not controlled. Not manufactured.

He had yelled.

Worse, he’d done it in front of others.

Ethan hadn’t looked at him since.

Adrian tried to ignore it. Buried himself in logistics, travel plans, executive summaries. Tried to forget the way Ethan’s shoulders had slumped after the meeting. The way he hadn’t shown up for the afternoon debrief.

That wasn’t part of the plan.

He was supposed to be confused. Vulnerable. Not hurt.

That night, Adrian poured himself a drink and stood in front of his floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city glow beneath him.

He thought of Ethan.

Of how he looked when he was focused. Of the quiet fire that sat just beneath his skin. Of the moment his voice cracked ever so slightly in the meeting.

Adrian drank slowly.

“Just a game,” he whispered.

But his throat felt tight.

Friday

He almost texted.

Twice.

He drafted messages and deleted them.

“Let’s talk.”

“Didn’t mean to go that hard.”

“You alright?”

All erased.

Instead, he stayed late at the office, walking past Ethan’s empty desk for no reason. He thought to himself, he had made a mistake with the figures, and as his boss, what I did was appropriate. Yes!! It was he said aloud to himself, so why is it bothering me so much? He stood in the hallway for a full minute before heading back.

He wasn’t in control anymore.

The game had shifted. The pieces had moved.

And now Adrian wasn’t sure if he was the player… or the one being played.

Saturday

He tried to reset.

Woke early. Went for a run. Ate breakfast on his balcony. Showered for too long.

But nothing worked.

He kept seeing Ethan’s face in the mirror.

Kept hearing the silence after the outburst.

Kept wondering why he cared.

This wasn’t supposed to be more than a distraction. Ethan was a passing interest. A pretty face with a curious mind. Someone to toy with.

So why did Adrian feel like he was the one being undone?

That night, he sat on his bed with his phone in hand.

Ethan’s contact open.

No message.

No call.

Just the weight of it.

And a single thought that wouldn’t go away:

What the hell am I doing? Is this still a game? Why do I feel this way?

Adrian hasn't felt like this for anyone in years. After his first betrayal.

Adrian walked to the bathroom to take a cold shower to forget everything, why his own mind was playing silly games with him, why he felt a ting in his chest after seeing the sad look on Ethan's face after he yelled at him at the Wednesday meeting.

Sunday

Adrian decided to go out and have some drinks. So he called his closest friend, Thorn.

Thorn; The Mr Adrian, the most sort-out guy among men and women, to what do I owe this call?

Adrian: Shutup Thorn, you can never change. Up for drinks tonight.

Thorn; Of course, it's been awhile since we drank together. But wait, what's going on with you? Because you only call me for a drink when you have problems in your love-life or when you are planning something diabolical against a prey you have in mind.

Adrian; Oh, please thorn don't start, I will tell you everything when we meet at the bar.

Thorn; cool. And he hangs up.

In Green House Bar

Adrian: Two bottles of whiskey. He turned to the waiter.

Thorn: So we are getting drunk tonight, huh?

Adrian: Looked at Thorn, with a cold look.

Thorn; don't give me that look.

A few minutes later, the drinks arrived.

Thorn: poured the drinks in both glasses and handed one to Adrian. Spill the tea bro.

Adrian: took his glass and sighed. Well, it's about an intern. Adrian started talking and telling Thorn everything without leaving anything unsaid.

Thorn; Burst out in laughter, so you mean a game you decided to play with your intern has backfired on you. Now you are confused, not knowing what to do.

Adrian; Paused, hmmmm.......mmm Maybe, but I won't say it backfired, but I don't know. It just feels weird and sickening.

Thorn; Wow, I haven't seen you railed up about a guy like this in ages. The last time you were like was when you were with. Paused, Thorn made sure to watch his words before saying what would kill me. Anyway, so do you like this Ethan guy?

Adrian; HMMM.....mmmmm I don't know, I just find him interesting and cute too. I just want to know why he isn't like everybody else. Let's say I've just been curious about him, since the very first day I saw him. Something about him just keeps me up at night.

Thorn; So you mean, you want to get to know him better.

Adrian; Yes

Thorn; Then talk to him

Adrian; No

Thorn; Why Not?

Adrian; I don't want him to know I'm interested

Thorn; idiot

Adrian; watch your mouth

Thorn; So what do you plan to do?

Adrian; I don't know!!! Stop asking me questions.

The rest of the night went by with Adrian and Thorn drinking and talking about different things, laughing, and filling each other up about the recent happenings in their lives. But Adrian still couldn't get Ethan out of his mind.