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My Possessive Billionaire CEO

Lance Haven only cares about three things: money, power and himself. That attitude has helped him amass an empire but it has also helped him make enemies along the way. Grace is a journalist whose career has been stagnant for a while now and when her editor comes to her with an assignment to uncover dirt on Lance, she hopes it will be her big break. When she becomes his secretary, the both of them clash and she finds him arrogant, but after she spends more time with him, she finds out that he's nothing like she thought he was.

tacian · Urban
Not enough ratings
12 Chs

Chapter 10

LANCE

As I lean against my desk and watch Grace leave, I wish I'd reacted differently. I know she's making up the thing of her not feeling well because she just cannot stand my presence at all.

Out of all my employees, presently and before her, she's the only one that would challenge me the way she did and still retain their position under my employ.

She's bolder than she lets on. The way she carries herself with confidence in anything she does, it intrigues me. Her piercing blue eyes when she's trying to drill me with questions, or the way they glisten when she thinks she has done something incorrectly, the way she twists her lips when she's trying to concentrate, or how she scratches her fingers on her thighs or a different surface when she's impatient.

I shake all that thought from my mind as I make my way back to my chair, I open back my laptop and frown when I see Patricia's crying video on the screen. She's just a good actor. I feel my anger rising so quickly, I exit the video and open up the emails Grace obediently directed to me.

Even a thing as common as a mail reminds me of Grace. My office is still redolent of her lavender scent, I doubt my mind can wander off to someplace else.

I pick up the remote control on my desk and hit one of the buttons which immediately turns on the monitor that contains views of several places in the building. I zoom in on one and catch sight of Grace in the lobby about to leave the building. I start to regret my pardon for her to take the rest of the day off, but I wave off the thought and get up.

I walk around my office with a slow stiff gait and a very straight face as I think of the storm Patricia has cooked up. I know that before the day ends, this whole thing would have escalated beyond control. I could lose a lot of clients, customers, even employees, if they believes Patricia's show. For this reason, I need to have a meeting with my staff to clear their doubts.

I immediately think of telling Grace to fix this meeting in the next hour, when I remember she's not disposed at the moment.

I make a muffled sigh, walking out of my office and open the door next to mine. I don't know what I'm looking for inside her office, but I act on impulse and move deeper into the small space. The air still smells like lavender. I now have a weird fascination for that scent.

I catch sight of her neatly organised desk, nothing is out of place, not a single sheet of paper is placed haphazardly. Even the pens are arranged in a pattern of brightest colours to darker ones.

I feel myself smiling as I catch sight of her glasses beside the foot of her desk. She must have dropped it when she was in a haste to leave. I pick it up and throw it in the chest pocket of my shirt. Then I go back to my office to send a mail to Emma to help with sending the mails to all employees. I change my mind about having the meeting right way. If I'm to be seen as innocent, I'd give them a little time to think about that themselves and not jump right into convincing them.

TWO HOURS LATER, when I'm done with everything I got going in the office, I get off my chair and grab my bag. I must say, I watched the clock tick every second till this moment and I didn't achieve anything, because I was thinking of how to deliver this glasses to Grace.

I could just send my driver to do that, but no, I'm clearing my desk for the day because I want to go with him so I see where she lives.

Before I kill my laptop completely, I search for her curriculum vitae in the company's mail box and write down her address. I leave my office and head for the car park.

My driver is already waited inside the car, I hop in and then voice out the address of where were going.

He looks at me weirdly through the rare view mirror, but only for a moment. His eyes flick down to the steering and he begins to drive.

We pull out of the car park and hit the main road in no time.

As we leave the cosmopolitan part of the city, we delve deeper into the rustic parts.

I have nothing against people who live in the countryside. Though there's this rustic charms of a country lifestyle, it has never appealed to me, because I've never lived such a life.

Sometimes, when I was younger, I'd stare out the windows of my father's car when we took tour of the city and I'd watch people live a life of hassle. It was either the bustling roads that caught my attention, or the sidewalks full of hurrying working-class men and women.

A lot has changed since then, the roads are now properly tarred and the sidewalks less busy.

The drive takes a left turn and we find ourselves in a quiet street. Too quiet like the one I live in. I tilt my neck to have a clear view of the small houses that line the streets and I sigh.

"I think this is it," my driver says and I turn my neck in the direction of where he's pointing.

It's a house. The house. I suppose.

I take a breath of fresh air and come out of the car. Then I walk towards the house guarded by no gates, no fence. Just a house facing the road with a bunch of flower pots with lilies in them. How's this even safe?

I hit the door bell, and a few moments later, it swings open to a young girl looking very enthusiastic about life. She's tall, lean and very giddy. I don't need to be told to know this is Grace's sister. It's the same hair shade, eye color and legendary narrow and slightly turned-up nose.

She greets me with a welcoming smile. "Hello, good afternoon. May I know who this gentleman is looking for?" She asks with hints that suggests she already knows who I'm here to see, then she sticks her head back into the house and yells for her sister. "Gracie?"

She calls her twice before Grace responds. It sounds like she's so far from the door but it doesn't take her thirty more seconds to get down to us. I hear her voice from behind the door, asking what the matter is.

"There's some really handsome guy here to see you," the young lady says with a smile and she switches places with Grace.

The young lady goes inside. Grace comes and stands partly behind the door and props her neck outside. Her brows shoot up in surprise the moment she sees me. "Uhm." She still has the surprise expression smacked on her face as asks, "What are you doing here?" She falters. "I didn't know you were coming. I didn't know you know where I live."

"Well now that you know, be nice and invite him in," I hear the lady say from inside.

Eyes raking my body from up down, Grace tells her sister to keep me company while she gets something decent to wear. Then she opens the door and asks me to come in.

I didn't know wearing mid-thigh shorts and a tank top isn't decent enough. I really don't care too much about what people wear or don't wear. I'm all about hard work and competence.

Grace disappears into a passage and the young girl offers me a seat adjacent to her as she picks up the tv remote.

"Pardon my manners," she says with little frown. "I'm Levi, Grace's biggest nightmare."

I chuckle, trying to get more comfortable on the chair as I scan the house. Not bad for a twenty-five old's apartment. "I'm Lance Haven," immediate I say that, I feel the tension grow in the room. I feel Levi's eyes fall on me and I look up to see her lips parted and her eyes flapped wide open.

She frowns and then looks at me with scrutiny. "It's a lie," she mutters, eyes staring daggers at me. "You mean the popular tycoon, owner of Saint Haven, Lance Haven or different Lance Haven." She regrets saying that and apologizes again as the lines of realization strike her face. "I'm sorry. Jesus Christ."

I clear my throat and I muster a smile. But she doesn't smile back. Instead she moves hoists off the chair she was slouched and turns till she's facing me but not close to me.

It's starting to get uncomfortable. She's gazing at me in astonishment and it's making me feel weird. I want to say something that'll make her realize I'm not a god or whatever she's thinking that is making her look at me with such admiration.

Thank God Grace walks in, because I didn't know exactly what to say to her sister. Finally, her eyes go off me and I breathe. I look at Grace from head to toe. She's now wearing a black T-shirt and black tights.

"I'm sorry, sir," Grace says, standing humbly near a chair. "Levi, could you please give us a minute." She turns to her sister and then back to me as Levi makes her way out of the house, not uttering a single word.

"What are you sorry about, Grace?" I ask her, pointing at free chair for her to take a seat in her own house. "I'm the one who showed up unannounced."

She glares at me in silence, her cheeks flushing. Then I put my hands it my pocket to bring out her glasses.

I see the instant relief as she exhales, I also see another look that hits her face. It's like sadness mixed with relief.

Walking down to me, she outstretches her hand and collects the glasses. "Thank you."

"It wasn't a bother," I assure her. "Are you feel much better?"

"Yes," she cuts in immediately. "So much."

It's very obvious she wasn't sick like she claimed. Her 'so much' doesn't even sound convincing.

I don't think I can ever be more uncomfortable than she is in her own space. She's half-seated on a very wide couch and her fingers her fiddling with themselves as she places both palms in front of her—it's exactly how she was the day of her interview.

"I'm really sorry for the way Luna spoke to you earlier, I should have doubled security,"I say, but she doesn't respond. She clears her throat with a soft sigh.

Most times, I wonder how she's so submissive but still manages to challenge me and match my energy.

Isn't is strange that whenever she's this quiet, I ache to know what goes on in that little head of hers? Yet, I've never asked. I don't ask this time, but I say something that completely changes her mood from uncomfortable to flushed. "You're a very intelligent woman, Grace. I know you understand that most things are better not spoken about." I get on my feet as I prepare to leave. "Some things are touchy subjects for people that they'd rather not dig into it."