Oops! I Became the CEO’s Nemesis!

The first thing Noah noticed when he woke up was the ceiling. It wasn’t his cracked, faded dorm ceiling with glow-in-the-dark stars. It was marble. Marble. With gold trim. “Okay…” he croaked, blinking at the chandelier. “Either I’ve been kidnapped by a billionaire, or heaven has very questionable taste.” A voice echoed from somewhere nearby. > “Sir, the car is ready for your meeting with Mr. Reid.” Noah sat up so fast he got whiplash. A man in a black suit stood at the door — tall, stiff, professional. Behind him, floor-to-ceiling windows framed a skyline of glass towers. “What—who’s Mr. Reid?” Noah asked, voice squeaking. The man looked scandalized. > “...Your rival, sir. The CEO of Reid Corporation.” Noah froze. Wait. Reid Corporation. Mr. Reid. Ethan Reid?! He scrambled out of bed, tripped over silk sheets, and face-planted into a pile of newspapers. The front page headline read: “Tech Mogul Lance Wilder Declares War on Reid Corporation!” And beneath it — a smug photo of himself. “No, no, no, no…” Noah whispered, flipping through the pages. Every picture was the same man — sharp suit, sharp jawline, sharper reputation. Lance Wilder. The villain from Love & Business. And, apparently, his new body. He stumbled to the mirror. A stranger stared back: messy blond hair, expensive watch, expression set to smug rich brat. “I’m the villain,” Noah said weakly. “I’m literally the CEO’s evil ex-best friend. In the novel, this guy goes bankrupt, gets humiliated, and—oh my God—dies choking on champagne at the final gala.” His assistant coughed. > “Sir, should I cancel your meeting with Mr. Reid?” Noah’s panic levels shot up to a solid 999. “No! I mean—yes! I mean—maybe we can… make peace? Buy him a coffee? Hug it out?” The assistant blinked, utterly confused. > “You… want to buy Mr. Reid coffee?” “Sure. Coffee solves everything,” Noah said, forcing a grin. “Let’s be friendly rivals!” Noah stepped out of the elevator, rehearsing his lines. “Hi Ethan, long time no—oh God, no, too casual. Mr. Reid, good to—no, too stiff. Hey, bro—oh, shut up, Noah!” The elevator doors opened. And there he was. Ethan Reid. Six feet of calm danger in a tailored suit, eyes cool as midnight steel. The kind of man whose handshake could probably bankrupt a country. He looked up from his tablet. > “Lance Wilder,” he said flatly. “I was wondering how long it’d take for you to crawl in here.” Noah’s brain short-circuited. Oh wow he’s even hotter in person—wait focus! He burst out nervously, “I come in peace!” Ethan blinked. “…What?” “I mean—no more rival nonsense! Let’s be, uh, business friends?” Noah said brightly, extending his hand. Ethan stared at it like it was a snake. > “Are you drunk this early in the morning?” Noah laughed awkwardly. “If I say yes, will you be less mad?” A pause. Then — to his utter shock — Ethan’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile. > “You’ve lost your mind, Wilder. But this should be interesting.” As Ethan walked past, brushing close enough for Noah to catch the faint scent of cedar cologne, one thought looped in his head: If I don’t die from embarrassment, the novel might kill me first.