Billionaire CEO: Sweety, Don't Divorce Me!

Alice Sterling had made a terrible mistake.

Last night, she ended up in bed with her boss-and it was intense.

Not just any boss. This was Edward Hawthorne-the wealthiest man in the capital and CEO of the GrandVerse Group.

Alice rushed out of the hotel, clutching her aching lower back as though fleeing for her life.

Damn it. She was a married woman, for heaven's sake.

But honestly, her first time had been. rough. Everything hurt-not just there, but her entire body felt bruised.

When she got home and looked in the mirror, she nearly gasped. Her neck, shoulders, arms-even her chest-were covered in marks. She drew a sharp breath.

Just how wild had the night been? It seemed he had left his mark on every part of her. Edward always seemed so cold and controlled in the office-who knew he'd be like that behind closed doors?

Tears welled in Alice's eyes. Her already pale face lost even more color as a horrifying truth sank in.

She'd slept with her boss. She'd cheated.

Yes, hers was a whirlwind marriage-they'd met only once, on the day they signed the papers. Then her husband flew overseas and vanished for two years. Still. she never meant to betray him.

Full of regret, Alice stepped into the shower. She threw on a high-necked blue sweater and loose white trousers, then sent a message to her all-but-absent husband.

As far as she knew, Edward was supposed to be on a business trip to Ancorum today-which meant he wouldn't be in the office. After confirming with the hotel and braving the full-body ache, Alice dragged herself to work.

She couldn't call in sick. That would look suspicious. Besides, she wouldn't see him anyway.

.Or so she thought.

The very next moment, a familiar voice spoke behind her: "Secretary Sterling, one iced Americano for Mr. Hawthorne, please."

Alice's eyes went wide. She spun around and saw a sharply dressed man in a suit and silver-rimmed glasses.

"Secretary Brooks. What did you just say?"

It was William Brooks-Edward's executive assistant, who was supposed to be with him in Ancorum. Yet here he was, standing calmly in the office. All the color drained from Alice's face.

Adjusting his glasses, William smiled politely. "I asked you to bring an iced Americano to Mr. Hawthorne. Is this a bad time?"

Mr. Hawthorne.

Alice shot up as if electrocuted. Her strained smile nearly broke. "I-I'm just surprised. I thought Mr. Hawthorne was in Ancorum. Why is he here?"

"Plans changed. He's not going anymore," William replied smoothly. Then, in his usual mild tone, he added, "He has some matters to attend to. Would you mind getting that coffee?"

"O-of course." Her voice trembled; her thoughts were in chaos. Biting her lip, she turned and hurried toward the break room.

Forget why Edward hadn't gone to Ancorum-she was more worried about last night.

They'd all been drunk. There was no way he remembered it was her. Besides, the hotel had assured her that the room's security camera was faulty and guest privacy was strictly protected. Unless she slipped up, he'd never know.

She had to keep this secret. How else could she face him at work?

Let's be real-if the mighty Edward found out that a junior assistant had "taken advantage" of him. who knew what he'd do to her?

Taking a deep breath, Alice steadied herself, picked up the coffee, and knocked on his office door.

"Come in."

His voice was deep and cool-it cut right through her.

She flinched, opened the door, and stepped inside. "Your iced Americano, Mr. Hawthorne."

She kept her head down the whole time, terrified to meet his eyes. "Do you need anything else, sir? If not, I'll take my leave."

As she leaned forward to place the coffee, Alice caught a faint trace of sandalwood-his scent. Instantly, flashes of last night's passionate chaos rushed back, and her face burned.

"Ms. Sterling."

Edward's detached voice broke the silence once more. His gaze drifted down to her legs-long, slender, and fair.

His elegant fingers tapped lightly on the desk, once, twice. slow and deliberate.

"I noticed you're walking a bit strangely today. Is everything alright?"

Her heart skipped. She froze, eyes fixed on the floor, too nervous to look up. He rarely spoke to her-today he'd already said more than usual. And now he was. asking about her?

It was her first time last night, and the soreness lingered. Was her walk really that noticeable?

"I. bumped into the desk earlier. Must have bruised my leg. That's all."

"I see." His voice was deep, almost teasing.

His fingers stilled. Instead, he picked up the iced coffee and swirled it lightly.

"How long have you been assigned to the 33rd floor?"

She blinked. "Today makes exactly one week."

"How are you finding it so far?"

Trying hard to sound calm, Alice replied, "It's been good. I'm learning a lot working under you, sir."

Silence fell again.

Sensing something was off, she nervously glanced up-and saw Edward rise to his feet.

Before she could react, his tall frame was right in front of her, blocking the light like a shadow.

He stood well over six feet, lean and imposing. He looked down at her. "Ms. Sterling, have you lost anything recently?"

That familiar scent washed over her again. She stiffened and took a slight step back. "Lost something?"

His long fingers lifted a small object into view.

"Something like this, perhaps?"

Her eyes locked onto what he held-a silver teardrop bracelet with a tiny gold bead, engraved with her initials.

No wonder she'd felt like something was missing this morning. She'd left it. here. In his office.

"Y-yes, that's mine. I didn't realize I'd lost it. Thank you, Mr. Hawthorne."

She forced a smile and reached for it.

But just as her fingers neared, he moved his hand back slightly.

Before she could react, his other hand clasped her wrist and pulled her firmly toward him.

She nearly stumbled into his chest, heart racing. When she looked up in shock, she met his sharp, icy gaze.

Something unspoken passed between them. His eyes were cold, but they saw right through her.

"Mr. Hawthorne.?"

"Do you want to know where I found this bracelet?" Edward asked, his eyes still locked on hers. He turned her hand over and placed the chain in her palm. His tone remained flat.

"Room 2036."

"Alice. the woman from the hotel last night-was you."

He knew.

He actually knew!

Alice's usually calm and elegant composure shattered. Her face paled, her mind reeling.

Had he put it all together because of the bracelet, or had he been targeting her from the very beginning?

But she couldn't admit to anything. She'd worked too hard to get where she was-climbing her way up step by step. She wasn't about to throw it all away over one drunken mistake.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Mr. Hawthorne. This bracelet style has been very popular lately. If you found it in a hotel room, it could belong to anyone."

Worst-case scenario, she'd lose a lucky charm. So be it.

She tried to hand the bracelet back, but before she could, Edward's hand closed around her wrist, holding her firmly in place.

"Is that so?" Edward's gaze was lazy, his tone icy. "Then tell me-who does it belong to?"

Alice tried to read his expression, but it gave nothing away. She bit her lip.

"I. I can't say for sure. If it's important, I can look into it."

"And how would you do that?" Edward let out a humorless laugh, his dark eyes unreadable. "By calling the hotel again to remind them to protect your privacy?"

Her heart stuttered. He knew. He knew everything.

He had seen right through her weak attempt to cover her tracks.

Humiliation washed over Alice. If the ground could have opened up and swallowed her, she would've gladly let it. How utterly embarrassing.

But of course-this was Edward. There was little he couldn't uncover if he wanted to. That was exactly why she'd been so desperate to keep it from him. If this got out, it would be a catastrophe.

"Mr. Hawthorne, I didn't mean to lie. I just. didn't want to complicate things further."

Edward's dark eyes remained fixed on her. His grip on her wrist tightened almost imperceptibly, his voice low and cutting.

"What were you doing at The Imperial?"

As he pulled her slightly forward, Alice stumbled, nearly colliding with his chest. Flustered, she quickly took a step back, putting distance between them.

"Mr. Hawthorne, could you please let go of me? I. I can explain."

Edward studied her flushed face for a moment before finally releasing her and leaning back in his chair.

"Go on."

Clutching the bracelet, Alice met his cold, handsome gaze and drew a shaky breath.

"Last night. I was celebrating my promotion with some friends. We had dinner, had a bit too much to drink. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"My friend thought I shouldn't go home in that state, so they booked me a room at The Imperial. But I. I must've walked into the wrong room."

So that was how the night from hell had happened. And now she had to face the consequences-because some of the blame was indeed hers.

Edward's voice was cold. "So what now?"

Alice bit her lip. "Mr. Hawthorne, last night was. a mistake."

"We were both drunk. It was an accident. Something that never should've happened."

Then Edward looked up, his gaze sharp and uncompromising.

"I don't want anyone hearing about this. I especially don't want my wife getting the wrong idea. Understood?"

Alice's eyes widened. "Wait-Mr. Hawthorne, you're married?"

She'd been at the company long enough to know his reputation-the most eligible bachelor in the capital, the dream man of every socialite in the city. She'd never heard even a whisper about him being married.

Edward shot her a sidelong glance. "Curious?"

"N-no, not at all!" She quickly shut her mouth, realizing she'd overstepped.

Prying into her boss's personal life? Major professional mistake.

"You've worked your way up from an intern. You should know what questions are off-limits."

She nodded vigorously. "I understand."

Edward's sharp jaw remained tense, his voice calm but leaving no room for argument. "I'll transfer compensation to your account. After today, you're done at GrandVerse."

"Leave?" Her expression shifted instantly. "Mr. Hawthorne, what happened last night was both our faults. Like you said-it never happened, and I won't breathe a word of it. You don't need to pay me anything."

She took a steadying breath and continued, "But I really don't want to lose my job over this. Please. give me another chance."

It had taken her years of hard work to earn her position as senior secretary. She wasn't about to let one night ruin everything.

Afraid he would refuse, she added in a rush, "I understand why you're concerned, and I swear-last night was a misunderstanding. It won't happen again. I would never use it against you, and I would never interfere with your relationship. I have someone I love, someone I want to spend my life with. Believe me, I want to keep this secret even more than you do."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're in love?"

Gritting her teeth, she said, "Yes. we grew up together. I've loved him for years."

It was a complete lie. The only thing she truly loved was her career and financial stability. But if a white lie could help her keep her job, it was worth it.

Edward didn't respond. He just continued to watch her, his silence unnerving. Alice clenched her fists, gave a slight bow, and pleaded one more time: "Mr. Hawthorne, please."

Her career was finally on an upward trajectory, and her income along with it. Quitting now-even with a payout-would undo all her progress.

Finally, his deep voice broke the silence.

"Fine."

Her head snapped up, relief washing over her features.

"Thank you, Mr. Hawthorne."

He lifted his coffee, his expression unreadable as he took a sip.

"Don't forget what you said. If word gets out, the consequences will be severe."

Alice nodded immediately. "I won't. I promise."

She wasn't foolish-working among powerful people had taught her to keep her head down. Trying to outsmart someone like Edward? You wouldn't even see it coming.

His tone remained cold and detached. "You may go. I'll have the compensation transferred to your account."

Alice frowned slightly and insisted, "You really don't need to pay me, Mr. Hawthorne. Money would only make this more complicated. Let's just. leave it as it is."

Edward gave her a brief, appraising look, then turned away. "Suit yourself."

She nodded respectfully, turned, and walked out of the office. Once she reached her desk, the tension in her shoulders finally eased.

That was the longest conversation she'd ever had with Edward. The man was intensely intimidating.

He'd known everything even before she walked in-proof that powerful people never showed their full hand.

Still, it was somewhat of a relief. At least now she wouldn't have to live in constant anxiety.

She glanced at her phone. Her "husband" still hadn't replied. He was overseas-probably still asleep. Maybe he'd message back by the end of the day.

Meanwhile, William stepped into Edward's office. Seeing him focused on his work, he reminded him softly:

"Mr. Hawthorne, I've sent you Mrs. Hawthorne's number as you requested."

Edward entered her number and began typing a message, his expression thoughtful. He considered being completely direct.

He had messed up the night before-had too much to drink and ended up with someone else. That was on him, no excuses. He figured if she didn't want a divorce, she would remain his wife. But if she did, he would make sure she was taken care of.

Sitting across from him, William glanced over and smiled faintly, thinking Edward might finally be softening.

"About time you reached out to your wife. The two of you got married two years ago, and then you took off overseas almost immediately. Not exactly a honeymoon phase. Now that you're back, you're still buried in work," William remarked lightly. "Want me to pick out a gift in advance?"

Edward's fingers stilled over the screen. His sharp eyebrows drew together.

Given how fractured things were between them, showing up in person was the least he could do.

After a moment's hesitation, he deleted the entire message.

"Pick out a gift," he said flatly.

William smiled understandingly. "Consider it done."

--

The entire day, Alice tried to focus on work, but her mind kept wandering.

She had joined GrandVerse right out of university. From the beginning, she knew who Edward was-the golden boy of the Hawthorne family and the undisputed leader of GrandVerse.

His reputation preceded him: shrewd, ambitious, with an uncanny instinct for investments. Every industry he touched seemed to turn to gold.

Ironically, two years ago, just as she started, he was transferred overseas. She never had the chance to meet him-not until last week, when he returned and she was promoted to senior secretary. That was when their paths finally crossed.

He was every bit as impressive in person-the youngest and most capable executive she'd ever worked for. He made her believe true talent could shine through even the stuffiest corporate environments.

He was someone she deeply admired professionally. But now. this had happened. Just when she thought she could learn and grow under his leadership, everything had become complicated.

From the way he spoke earlier, it seemed he truly cared for his wife. She could only hope she hadn't damaged their relationship. She never wanted to be that woman.

--

As the workday ended, heavy rain began to pour outside. Just as Alice was heading downstairs, her phone buzzed with a new message.

It was from her legally wedded husband.

"Who is this?"

She froze, staring at the screen. Her heart sank.

He hadn't even saved her number.

Taking a deep breath, she gripped her phone and typed slowly, carefully:

"This is your wife-the one who signed the marriage license with you two years ago. Do you have time to return to the country? I need to talk to you."

But almost immediately, she sent a second message:

"I'm sorry. I had too much to drink a few days ago and made a mistake. It wasn't intentional, but I was unfaithful. I'm truly sorry. If you have time, let's proceed with the divorce."

Once the messages were sent, she felt a strange sense of relief. Now, all she could do was wait.

What she really wanted, if she was honest, was for him to call.

She wasn't brave enough to dial herself, but if he called-even if he yelled-maybe some of this guilt would ease.

--

Meanwhile, in the underground parking garage, a black Bentley glided smoothly out into the rain.

Through the narrowly cracked rear window, a glimpse of an strikingly handsome face appeared for just an instant.

In the driver's seat, William looked conflicted-an expression difficult to describe.

He'd received three texts today, all from the same unknown number.

The first one read: "When are you coming back? Can we meet? I've got something to talk to you about."

Assuming it was someone whose number he hadn't saved, William replied asking who it was.

To his surprise, the person texted back twice-claiming to be his wife, saying she'd cheated after drinking and now wanted a divorce out of guilt.

William was speechless. He didn't even have a girlfriend-where would a wife come from? And now he was being dumped over infidelity? Unbelievable.

Clearly, some poor woman had messed up and sent the messages to the wrong person. But honestly, not even having your own husband's number saved? That was next-level chaos.

He shook his head, glancing in the rearview mirror at the man in the back seat.

Edward had always carried an untouchable aura-elegant, detached, the kind of person people admired from a distance but rarely dared approach.

"Mr. Hawthorne, shall we head to the villa now?"

The villa belonged to Edward. He had given it to his wife after they married.

Edward glanced down at the report in his hands. "Yes."

William nodded and began to drive. Soft music filled the car-Edward's usual track, "All I Wished For."

But today, Edward looked up slightly, his brow furrowing.

Was it just him, or did the singer's voice sound faintly familiar-almost like that of his secretary?

--

Soon, the car entered a quiet, upscale neighborhood filled with standalone villas.

When the car stopped, Edward stepped out alone. He walked up to the villa's front door and rang the bell.

He waited, but there was no response. The house was completely silent. He took a few steps closer, peered inside, then pulled out a bronze key and unlocked the door.

It was already dark outside. Inside, the villa was pitch black.

He turned on the lights. The entire place was immaculate-perfectly arranged, but eerily lifeless. Even the plastic covers on the sofa remained undisturbed.

His dark eyes narrowed as he stepped into the bedroom and opened the closet.

It was empty, save for a few wooden hangers.

She had never moved in.

His expression unreadable, Edward took out his phone. His long fingers tapped the screen, and he dialed her number.

No one answered. Eventually, the call went to voicemail. His brows drew together as he let out a quiet breath and turned back toward the car.

"Find out where she's living now."

"She doesn't live here?" William looked stunned. Turning down a villa like this? That didn't sound like the woman he thought he knew.

Noticing Edward's darkening expression, he quickly added, "Right away, Mr. Hawthorne."

He worked quickly. Soon, an address came back: The Lodge Apartments.

It sounded like an ordinary residential building-nothing special.

The black Bentley soon merged back into the capital's busy evening traffic.

Edward sat with his long legs crossed casually, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, defined forearms. Delicate veins traced beneath his pale skin.

He stared out the window, his face cool and detached.

His phone remained silent.

His mood was clearly souring. Being ignored like this was not something he was accustomed to. No one dared give him the silent treatment.

With a quick motion, he redialed the number.

This time, after several rings, someone finally picked up.

"Hello? Who is this?"

It was a man's voice-deep and unfamiliar.

Edward's eyes narrowed slightly. His voice was calm, his lips barely moving. "I'm looking for Emily Sterling."

The man on the other end sounded unbothered. "Oh, Emily's in the shower. I'll have her call you back when she's done."

.Shower?

Edward's voice dropped, low and cold. "Who the hell are you?"