Chapter 5 The Picture perfect Girlfriend

LINA POV

The second Rhea walks out, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

My chest feels tight, like I've been pretending to breathe for the past ten minutes. I grab my pen, pretend to jot something down, but my hand won't stop shaking.

She's even prettier in real life.

Not just the "Instagram pretty" kind either. She's the type of woman that walks into a room and everyone looks. Confident, perfect hair, soft voice, that easy way she stands like she's never had to try too hard.

I knew who she was before she said her name.

When I found out my boss was Ethan Holt, I'd done what any sane woman would do...I Googled him. CEO. Billionaire. Gorgeous. And very much taken.

Her name popped up right under his: Rhea Bennett. Marketing executive. Girlfriend. Society's golden couple.

So, no, it wasn't exactly a surprise when she showed up today.

I just didn't expect her to look like that.

And seeing her in person? It's different. Real. Painfully real.

Because I know what it feels like to have Ethan's eyes on me. To feel that heat. To remember his voice when it wasn't cold or professional but low, rough, whispering my name.

And now... he's hers.

I press my lips together and focus on the computer screen, typing something useless just to look busy. But my brain is running wild.

She'd smiled at me like she meant it, but I could feel it. That tension under the surface. That quick little scan women do when they size each other up.

The way her eyes lingered on my face just a second too long.

She knows.

Or maybe she doesn't.

But she feels it. The weird, invisible thing between Ethan and me.

And honestly? I hate that she has every right to.

She's the girlfriend. The one who gets to walk into his office like she belongs there. The one he can touch, kiss, take home. The one who doesn't have to pretend that one night never happened.

I swallow hard and glance at his door. It's closed now, the frosted glass hiding everything behind it. I can still hear a faint hum of his voice from inside. Calm. Steady. Professional. Like nothing ever happened between us.

He's good at that.

Good at pretending.

I sit back in my chair and close my eyes for a second. God, what was I thinking taking this job?

It's not like I could've known, but now that I'm here, now that I see him every day...it's torture.

The way he walks. The way he smells. The way his sleeves are always rolled up just enough to show those veins that shouldn't be so distracting.

And now knowing there's her....the picture-perfect girlfriend...it feels stupid to even remember that night.

But I do.

Every damn detail.

The hotel room. The city lights bleeding through the curtains. His hands. His voice. The way he looked at me like he'd been starving and I was the only thing left in the world.

I open my eyes and exhale. "Stop it," I whisper under my breath.

This is my job now.

This is my life now.

And I'm not that girl who sleeps with her boss.

Not anymore.

A notification pings on my screen, pulling me back to reality. A calendar reminder for some meeting I don't even care about. I click it away and stare at my reflection in the black corner of my monitor.

I look fine. Normal. But inside? I feel small. Like a walking secret I can't tell anyone.

Rhea probably went back to her office, perfectly calm. She probably laughed on her drive, maybe even texted him something flirty. And me? I'm sitting here trying not to remember how his mouth felt against my neck.

It's pathetic.

But I can't help it.

Because part of me, no matter how much I hate it, still wants him to look at me the way he did that night. To lose control again. To make me forget this whole stupid world.

And another part of me wants to run far, far away before I ruin everything.

The elevator dings somewhere down the hall, and I straighten up, pretending to work again. For all I know, Rhea could come back. Ethan could walk out. HR could stroll by.

I need to look composed. Professional. The kind of woman who belongs here.

Not the kind who spent one night with her boss and still dreams about it every time she closes her eyes.

The door to his office stays closed, but I can almost feel him behind it.

I know he feels it too. That tension. That same pull.

And it scares me.

Because I can already tell...this job is going to break me.