Breaking Free: The CEO's Lost Love

Inside the Blossom Club, a young man stared at the woman occupying the main seat, admiration evident in his eyes. He cautiously massaged her shoulders, not daring to go further.

"Miss Tucker, how is it? Is it comfortable?" he asked.

Miley Tucker, nestled against his chest, responded lazily, "Yes."

Seeing this, Gavin Rowe arched an eyebrow and remarked, "Harold's back, but you're still here having fun."

Miley disregarded his comment, her attention briefly on her phone.

The image on her phone displayed her husband, Harold Wheeler, intimately close to another woman, their gentle expression suggesting a secretive flirtation under the cover of the night.

The photo, skillfully taken by a reporter, captured their closeness in a way that was suggestive but not lewd.

Harold had returned, yet he chose not to inform her.

Instead, he had left her to discover it through such an unexpected gesture.

Miley set her phone down.

Lifting her gaze, she gracefully accepted grapes from the young toy boy with her delicate fingers.

With a casual tone, she said, "We have an open marriage, after all."

In Rolrith, it was common knowledge that she and Harold didn't bind each other. To the public, they were the ideal couple, but in reality, they rarely meddled in each other's personal affairs except when necessary.

Why would Harold mind her having fun in a nightclub?

Gavin remained silent.

Miley resolved to make the most of her evening.

She ordered a series of strong drinks and drank them swiftly.

Soon, she felt tipsy and headed to the restroom.

When she came out of the restroom, the young, attractive toy boy offered his hand, asking, "Miss Tucker, may I escort you to your room?"

His gaze faintly reminded her of someone from her past.

Caught off guard, Miley caressed his cheek and said with a smile, "Sure, make me happy. Then, you'll have your reward."

As she was about to leave with him, a tall figure blocked her way.

The toy boy was stunned. "Sir..."

Miley looked up with hazy eyes. Before she could discern the man's face, he grabbed her wrist and drew her close.

A deep and mellow voice sounded in her ears, which was very familiar.

"Inform your manager I'll be taking her." The man shot a glance at the toy boy and carried Miley away.

The man's grip on Miley's wrist was so firm that it left her skin slightly reddened. She staggered after him and soon found herself thrown into the passenger seat.

The discomfort jolted her to a clearer state of mind.

As she regained her senses, she noticed the man sliding into the driver's seat, the car's light illuminating his sharp face.

Harold was dressed as he was in the photo taken by the reporter, with the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a hint of his chest. His glasses framed his intense eyes, giving him a look of cold allure yet sophisticated charm.

He looked gentle and refined, like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Miley bit her lip.

The next second, Harold lifted her effortlessly, placing her on his lap.

Miley's body was outlined by her tight dress, her buttocks pressed against his legs in an erotic manner.

She tried to get off his lap.

Yet, Harold's cool fingers tightened on her waist, firmly keeping her in place.

"You seem quite good at seeking pleasure." His voice was low and resonant.

Miley's heart skipped a beat.

Looking up, she saw her husband staring at her with an unreadable expression. He leaned closer and said in a low voice, "You'd go as far as to stay with a toy boy?"

Miley calmed herself down. "I have my needs. If my husband can't satisfy me, why shouldn't I look elsewhere?"

"You mean I didn't satisfy you?"

Harold slowly rolled up his sleeves and removed his suit jacket.

His eyes were burning with desire.

What he wanted to do was obvious.

As a matter of fact, it had been ages since they made love.

Miley offered no resistance.

The car was cramped, but Harold had a penchant for a thrill in their intimate moments.

Pressed against the steering wheel, Miley's soft sighs and moans filled the car.

"You are so horny," Harold said, his voice rough with desire.

He adjusted her position with a firm grip on her wrist.

When the sex was over, Miley was utterly exhausted.

Her fingers felt too weak to even twitch.

She slumped in the seat, Harold's coat draping over herself.

Her hand brushed against something in the coat's pocket. It was a small jewelry box.

She paused, then realized it was for a brooch.

Somehow, she breathed a sigh of relief.

The box had someone's initials, L. P.

Clearly, it was made just for someone.

"You're really quite the romantic." Miley's face darkened, turning away with a chill.

Everyone knew that Harold had a special someone, Leyla Pearson.

She was the Pearson family's illegitimate daughter and also Miley's half-sister...

This time, Harold had gone overseas with Leyla to treat her illness.

His disregard for Miley was clear. He offered her a glance and casually mentioned, "If you like it, I'll have my secretary arrange one for you."

Harold always acted this way.

He was generous with such small matters.

Miley dropped her gaze, overcome with boredom.

She returned the brooch, her eyes devoid of any jealousy.

"No need. I never share styles with anyone else."

Miley preferred not to dress in clothing or accessories that others had worn before.

Especially if it was something originally belonging to Leyla.

Soon after, Leyla made a call to Harold.

Her voice, over the phone, was gentle and sweet.

"Harold, I'm so grateful for you sending me overseas for my surgery. I might not have made it otherwise. I don't know how to thank you..."

"You're okay now, and that's what matters." Harold's response was brief.

Playing with her freshly polished nails, Miley said with a sneer, "It's simple. Pay him back with your body. After all, you've always been keen on taking what's mine. See if you can turn your brother-in-law into your husband. I'd be amused to see that."

Leyla had attempted such a thing before.

During Miley's wedding to Harold, Leyla had tried to disrupt it and even vowed to end her life.

Yet, she lacked the courage to leap from the 14th floor. Had she dared, she might have actually achieved her goal.

Miley couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity.

Leyla heard Miley's voice. She deliberately made her own louder and said, "Harold, I'm sorry to bother you. Is Miley upset with you? Please, don't fight with her over me. I understand Miley is mad about what happened with her mother. But it's been a while since her mother passed away. Why is she still taking her anger out on me?"

"Leyla, what you desire meant nothing to me." Miley remained calm. She said in an even tone, "If you continue spouting nonsense, I will ensure everyone knows who you really are."

Her voice was so cold that Leyla didn't dare to cross her again.

"Get some rest now. We'll discuss this tomorrow."

Harold ended the call quickly. He looked at Miley and said meaningfully, "You really hold a grudge."

Miley remained silent. She just looked down to hide her sadness.

If she were really vengeful, Leyla wouldn't be alive now.

Marrying Harold was never something she regretted.

What she did regret was allowing her mother to witness Leyla threatening to end her own life. Following that, Leyla and her father Joel Pearson had talked nonsense to her mother, leading to her mother's death from sheer anger.

From that point, Miley had left the Pearson family's house, changed her last name, and took charge of the Tucker Group. She harbored a hope that one day Leyla would bow down at her mother's grave and beg for forgiveness.

Yet, she had never anticipated Harold would stand by Leyla.

The journey from the club to the villa was short, yet Miley found herself lost in an unexpected dream along the way.

She was transported back to her wedding day three years ago.

On the edge of a tall, fourteen-story building, Leyla stood in the breeze, tears streaming down her face, looking like she might jump at any moment.

"Miley, can't you just let him go? You have so much already. Why must you take Harold from me, too? Dad's already on your side. Isn't that enough for you?" Leyla said.

Miley watched the scene unfold with a detached expression.

Seeing Miley's unbothered face, Leyla became more agitated and yelled, "Miley! How can you be so heartless? I curse you! You'll lose everything you hold dear!"

Eventually, the police managed to bring Leyla down from the roof, and the wedding proceeded despite the commotion.

But as Leyla had said, Miley did end up losing nearly everything.

She had lost her grandparents, her mother, and her uncle, Abel Tucker.

The nightmare seemed never-ending. Amidst the haze, she heard a deep, masculine voice.

"Miley."

The voice was familiar but lacked the gentleness in her memory. Slowly coming out of her dream, Miley opened her eyes.

She was met with a pair of intense black eyes, blurring the line between dream and reality for a moment. She grabbed at the man's sleeve and whispered hoarsely, "Hal."

"What did you just call me?"

Harold looked down and coldly grasped her chin with his fingers. His gaze sharpened suddenly.

Miley was disappointed that the person in front of her wasn't the one she thought.

"It's nothing. I was just dreaming."

Miley realized her mistake, confusing Harold for Hal in her drowsy state.

When she came back to her senses, she noticed they had reached the villa's entrance. She unbuckled her seatbelt, ready to leave the car.

But then, Harold caught her wrist abruptly. His eyes narrowed as he asked, "Miley, who did you think I was just now?"

Miley was shocked by his perceptiveness.

"There's a good-looking young guy who showed up at the club a couple of days back." She arched her eyebrows and casually withdrew her fair wrist. Noticing his expression turned sour, she said slowly, "I was wrong. You can't really be compared to a guy in his early twenties."

She lied while keeping a straight face.

Harold's expression turned gloomy. He embraced her, placing one hand on her waist and the other on her curvy hip.

"True, I'm not as young as those toy boys. However, if you're in the mood for sex, feel free to call me. After all, I'm the only one who can truly please you."

Harold caressed her backside with intent.

Miley broke free from his arms and tidied her clothes gracefully. She scoffed, "No, thank you. You should save your energy for Miss Pearson. I'm not that desperate."

For years, he and Leyla had been more than friends. It was hard to imagine them not being intimate.

He had been so passionate in the car earlier. It was hard to imagine how he would be when he was alone with Leyla.

The thought of this man possibly being with another woman made Miley feel slightly uncomfortable.

The disgust in her eyes was unmistakable. Without offering any explanation, Harold said casually, "I assumed you were out hunting for someone to have sex with at the club. If that's not the case, better steer clear of those toy boys."

His words were full of sexual hints, painting Miley as someone horny.

Miley shot him a cold look and proceeded upstairs.

The smile faded from Harold's face. He watched her ascend with a gaze that was difficult to read.

He eventually made his way up after her.

Despite their marriage being more of an arrangement, they didn't sleep in separate rooms.

Miley returned to their room and decided to shower first. After that, Harold went to take a shower.

Miley lounged on the sofa, absentmindedly turning on her laptop. That was when she noticed an email from her assistant.

She settled on the couch, legs tucked under her, and opened the email.

As she read the email, her brow furrowed, her irritation was clear. She quickly made a video call with her assistant and questioned, "Are you telling me the most Douglas Group will offer is a three percent discount?"

"Yes. They've cited our marketing strategy and financials as the reason for capping the discount at three percent."

Miley had calculated the expected benefits of partnering with Douglas Group. For Tucker Group to meet its targets, a five percent discount was crucial. Initially, both parties had agreed, but Douglas Group had unexpectedly broke their promise.

Her lips tightened, a shadow of concern crossing her face.

Lost in thought about the project, she barely noticed Harold approaching until he placed a coat over her shoulders.

Miley raised her head and saw his eyes skimming over her chest. He said, clearly annoyed, "Cover up."

Only at that moment did Miley become aware that she was dressed in a revealing nightgown.

Even though her assistant was a woman, it still wasn't proper for her to be seen by anyone else in such attire.

"Instruct the marketing team to make a new strategy first thing tomorrow. We need to push Douglas Group for an additional two percent discount no matter what."

She issued her instructions to the assistant and quickly ended the video call.

Harold glanced at the papers she was reading and inquired casually, "Is this about your deal with the Douglas family?"

"Yes."

Miley glanced at the marketing plan again, her frustration mounting.

Harold looked at her, a subtle smile playing on his lips, saying, "Your marketing plan has flaws, and the Douglas family isn't keen on granting the discount you're after."

He had pinpointed the issue precisely.

Harold positioned his hands on either side of her, inquiring leisurely, "If I lend a hand, what's in it for me?"

Despite her reluctance to acknowledge it, Miley knew Harold had a superior knack for business compared to her.

However, Harold was a genuine businessman, and he was no exception to engaging only in profitable deals.

The deal with the Douglas Group was a multimillion-dollar affair. Miley knew precisely what to do now.

She wrapped her arms around Harold's neck and gently kissed the corner of his lips. Looking up at him with her slender eyes, she whispered seductively, "Darling, I need your help."

Harold's gaze narrowed slightly as he placed a hand on her thigh and said with a hint of malice, "I remember someone recently saying I meant nothing to her in the car."

He was such a petty schemer!

He not only took advantage of the situation but also raked up the past.

"What do you want?" Miley asked, clenching her teeth.

Harold caressed her lips and guided her hand down to his lower body, murmuring in a deep, rough voice, "You're well aware of what I want."

Miley had paid dearly for the marketing strategy, letting Harold have passionate sex with her.

Upon waking up in her messy room, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

The couch, the large window, the mirror...

All those moments came rushing back. Miley shifted and winced from the pain. She couldn't shake off a bit of resentment towards Harold.

Harold was wild, to say the least. His boldness in their adventurous sex had left Miley astounded.

Yet, the hard work seemed to pay off. Harold's revisions to the plan were far superior.

This boosted Miley's confidence in handling the Douglas Group.

Before leaving for work, Miley made sure to take her birth control pills.

While searching the cabinet for the pills, her eyes fell on an old report of miscarriage from two years ago.

She was momentarily lost in thought.

Miley's health wasn't the best, making pregnancy a challenge. Plus, she had relied on birth control pills whenever Harold was careless.

However, she had forgotten to take the pills for one time two years ago, and it had resulted in an unforgettable lesson.

She quickly swallowed two pills without a second thought.

Her relationship with Harold was purely for satisfaction. They were bound to divorce in the future, and she didn't want a child tying them together.

At the office, Miley handed over the marketing strategy to her team. During the meeting, she stressed the importance of a solid deal with the Douglas Group.

Afterwards, she encountered her uncle, Sean Tucker, outside the conference room.

"You've made a fine marketing plan, Miley. Well done."

Sean's praise was soft and kind. Miley responded with a smile, "Your years of hard work laid the groundwork. Securing this deal with the Douglas Group will set our minds at ease."

"Things will work out," Sean assured her with a smile and a sigh. "But what's important for you now is having a baby with Harold. I've heard Leyla and Harold have been quite close lately."

"Those are just baseless rumors." Miley responded with a shy smile, "Thanks for your concern. Harold and I are working on it. After all, the fortunes of both the Tucker family and the Wheeler family await their heir."

Her timid smile seemed heartfelt, yet Sean found it disagreeable.

If Miley and Harold were to have a child, it wouldn't be good for them.

After a brief talk with Sean, Miley excused herself and left.

The moment she turned away, her smile vanished.

Her expression turned cold as she clenched her fists.

After Abel, an adopted son of Miley's grandparents, founded the Tucker Group, Miley's grandparents had passed away in a drunk driving accident. To protect Abel, Miley had declared him dead and had secretly sent him overseas.

Luckily, Abel had publicly stated that Miley would inherit his shares if anything happened to him.

Miley had investigated the accident, learning from Officer Alex Fuller that it likely wasn't accidental.

For years, she had been secretly investigating the details of the accident. And she only uncovered Sean's involvement.

Miley couldn't help but scoff.

She would never have known Sean was in touch with Leyla if she hadn't stumbled upon it by chance.

She would find proof one day and make Sean and Leyla regret it.

Miley took a deep breath and returned to her office. She got a text from a woman as soon as she walked in.

"Miss Tucker, we need one hundred thousand dollars."

Miley paused for a moment after reading the message.

Their conversations always seemed to go this way.

Images of a man's kind gaze flickered through her mind.

"I'm convinced they left me only as a last resort. If there's a chance to reconcile, I'll still stand by them. Miley, we can always earn more money, but once relationships are damaged, they're often beyond repair. It's always sensible to use something replaceable to preserve something irreplaceable."

Miley's throat tightened with emotion.

She quickly sent the requested funds to the woman.

"Ensure he's well cared for."

But she didn't receive any response.

Images of the man's gentle smile surfaced in Miley's mind, sending her into a reflective silence. Soon, the ringing of her phone interrupted her thoughts.

It was a call from her father, Joel Pearson.

"Miley, come home for dinner this Friday. I'll have the cook prepare something special. It's been too long since we all gathered."

Miley responded with a stoic tone, "No, Mr. Pearson. I won't be returning."

Her cold, distant voice pierced Joel's heart. Ever since her mother died, Miley had left the Pearson family's home and had never come back.

Joel had tried repeatedly to mend his relationship with his daughter, but all his attempts seemed futile.

The air hung heavy with tension. After a quiet moment, Joel let out a sigh and admitted, "Miley, It's all my fault. I failed to look after you and your mother properly. Leyla's feeling better these days. She's planning an art exhibition next week. You and Harold seem happy. I'm hoping you and Leyla can resolve your issues and stop this ongoing conflict."

"That's easy for you to say, Mr. Pearson," Miley retorted with a sharp edge in her voice.

Her father's suggestion was almost laughable.

He let Leyla get too close to Miley's husband and now expected Miley to just forgive her.

However, Miley was caught off guard upon hearing about Leyla's upcoming art exhibition.

After hanging up the phone, Miley sent a message to her bestie Karina Holden.

"Is Leyla really hosting an art exhibition next week?"

Karina was always in the know. Realizing Miley was out of the loop, she became quite upset. "Yes, and it seems your husband has been quite supportive. How else could Leyla manage an art exhibition? He's been all too generous!"

Leyla had been studying art for seven years and was, at best, a mediocre talent.

However, her young age and the scale of her exhibition hinted at more than just talent. Strong financial backing and influential connections seemed the only plausible explanation.

"I'll send over the brochures for her art exhibition. Don't get me wrong. I'm not biased, but her art is a disaster! Yet, oddly enough, one piece really stands out."

Soon after, Karina forwarded the brochures.

Miley's expression turned gloomy at the sight of the third painting.

The artwork was titled The Girl by the Seine River.

Among all the other paintings, this one truly stood out.

Because it wasn't Leyla's work.

Rather, it was painted by Faye Tucker, Miley's mother.

After initially being sent to a friend by Joel, it had changed owners multiple times, eventually disappearing from the public eye. Miley had attempted to reacquire it, but it was nowhere to be found.

Yet now, it resided with Leyla, the woman responsible for her mother's death, and it was being used to bolster Leyla's reputation.

Miley was certain Leyla lacked the means and money for such an acquisition. She asked Karina, "Do you have any idea how she acquired this painting?"

"Last month, your husband spent several hundred million at an international auction to purchase it," Karina replied.

Miley bit her lip. Her lovely face was devoid of emotion.

Then, a message from Harold popped up.

"Join me for dinner at my parents' place tonight. I'll pick you up at six."

When Miley didn't reply, Karina inquired, "What's your plan?"

What was her plan?

Miley's response was a cold smirk.

She intended to create chaos at Leyla's art exhibition!

And subsequently, she aimed to make Harold penniless!