I Rewired My Psycho CEO's Twisted Mind

My As A CEO

Axel’s POV

"I'm so sorry about this, Helen! I had no idea she was going to come over here." My eyes widened, hoping Helen would forgive me. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, and I wiped them off with my hands, not caring at that moment. I couldn't bear the thought of losing the best model Ethereal magazine has ever had because of my fiancé's childishness.

Ethereal magazine had impacted so many lives, especially in Sundale. My parents established it 30years ago. They gave everything they had to build Ethereal into what it is today, and they never once risked the business for anything. Mama and Papa didn’t have an easy start. They had to fight and do hard labor to find something to eat.

Mama always told me I was lucky, so I shouldn’t mess up and ruin what they spent years building. In Mama's words, “I will disown you and drag you through the mud if you ever let Ethereal Magazine fall to second place. You must always keep it at the top, no matter what.”

I’m 28 now, and I refuse to let its glory fade while I’m in charge. Mama never made empty threats. Whatever she said she would do, she did—and sometimes even worse. I had seen the devil, and he lived in Mama’s eyes. When I was young, I’d heard her yell and threaten to cut people’s eyes out if they didn’t listen, and some who betrayed her were never seen again, but Mama was never questioned. She wasn’t just my Mama—she was the Mama of Sundale.

I introduced Maeve to my parents, but they didn't care who I was marrying, all they cared about was how I was running the company.

I had to call both Helen and Maeve into my office to avoid prying eyes. My office was massive, filled with an array of paintings and artwork—my obsession. It wasn't just an office; it was my sanctuary, a place where I could escape the worries of the outside world.

"Your wife has embarrassed me not once, but twice! I can't be taking this s**t from you!" It was clear Helen wasn't ready to accept my apology — why did Helen say the word “wife”? Maeve was still my “FIANCÉ”.

She just stood there, looking at Helen as if she was about to devour her. I turned to Maeve, my chiseled jaw dripping with sweat, my suit clinging to me, drenched. "What the f**k is wrong with you, huh? I wonder why I chose someone like you to be my wife." Her face fell as I yelled, but I didn't care. My main focus was on getting Helen to forgive me.

"Everything I do is because I love you," she said, tears glistening in her eyes as she stepped closer, reaching for my cheeks. In a moment of rage, I pushed her away hard, and she stumbled, hitting her ribs on the edge of the office table.

She cried out in pain… I felt a slight tinge in my chest. Was it empathy? I couldn't tell, but I quickly shoved those feelings away.

No way I could be feeling this—falling for another woman was off the table, not after what Giselle put me through.

Giselle was my first girlfriend. She was from a middle-class family, and we dated when I was 22 years old and she was 21. I loved and trusted her with all my heart. Unfortunately, she had a threesome with my two best friends from high school on my bed. Can you believe that?!? That memory? It plays on repeat in my mind, a scene I witnessed with my own eyes. Ever since that day, I’ve vowed never to treat another girl with the same kindness I gave to Giselle.

After my relationship with Giselle, I had always been with powerful, wealthy women, just like me, but those relationships never lasted; they thought I wasn’t sane enough. However, that wasn’t true. They were obviously insecure about how wealthy and handsome I was, so they made up excuses to flee from me. Those women walking out of my life never stung because I never loved any of them, not after what Giselle did to me.

When I met Maeve, I felt different. I was convinced she wouldn’t leave like the others— I wasn't saying this out of love, but because if she did disappoint me, there would be nothing left for her to hold on to. That made it so easy for me to treat her any way I liked.

“It will never repeat itself, Helen.” My breath was shaking heavily, and I didn’t care about my fiancé groaning in pain on the floor of my office. Helen walked out without a word. She held a straight face, but I couldn’t be sure she had truly forgiven me. All I could do was hope for the best.

I turned my attention back to Maeve, who was still on the floor crying in pain. My rage was over the top, and at that moment, she irritated me.

Why did I even pick her to be my wife? She didn’t even measure up to my standards; those thoughts flooded my mind, but I also reminded myself why I chose her — I could control her how I liked and wouldn’t worry about her cheating on me.

I scooped her up from the floor, her body brushing against the edge of the table as I leaned in close, my lips just a breath away from hers. Our eyes locked—mine fierce, hers wide and innocent—like I was about to give her a wet kiss. "Don’t you love this perfect life I’ve given you?" I whispered.

"Um, um," she replied, her mouth slightly open, her eyes glued to my lips. I could feel her soft breath dancing on my moisturized lips.

I leaned in, my lips brushing the tip of her ear as I whispered, "If you don’t want this life of luxury to vanish before your eyes, you better act like a good girl for daddy." Pulling away, I straightened my suit and cleared my throat, saying firmly, "Don’t let me catch you in this office when I get back."