CEO masher

request? I thought the role of parents was to show wisdom and my father comes with one of those? See me married before I die to make sure his marriage to my mother didn't mess me up? Holy shit. I'm not messy. I'm a good son, he said it himself. And please, man, I'm 25 years old. Who gets married at 25? This is the beginning of life. But it was his last request, Tina said when I told her what my father really wanted. Maybe he won't have time to ask you for anything else. I really hope not. Pretend you're married, honey. Take some photos with a model, bring them to him to see.

Show that you care about his last wish in life. My gasp wasn't just disappointment, it was also impatience. What model would feel good collaborating with me to deceive a dying man in his final moments of life? I don't think any. No one is that cruel, even professionally. But here I am, in my office, surfing the internet trying to find someone who can cooperate with this because there's no way I'm calling any woman I know. They would confuse the whole damn thing. They would think it was indirect, that I wanted to ask them to marry me and I made a "joke". I don't understand women's minds, no one does, not even them; but I can bet that it would happen. So, when I've been browsing for too long searching, my cell phone beeps with a notification. I take it to see, opening the messages from my friend Samuel. He swears at me in greeting and asks if I forgot that today is the day for him to choose his wedding suit. Yeah, I actually forgot. I leave the notebook with my search aside and get up to go find my very passionate friend, who sends a photo with our other friends, all giving me the middle finger. I smile. Two of us have already gotten screwed in this wave of love; my turn I pass with flying colors. I prefer to pretend. It's better to deceive my father with a false bride than to see myself trapped forever, forever, by someone's side. I'm out. Chapter 1 Victoria 10:42h Where are you? 10:51am I saw that you are online. Answer me at 11:03 am You won't answer me, right? I'll go there then 11:04h I'll find your new address and you'll see me 11:04h whether you want it or not 11:05h you do the shit and you want to disappear ______________________________________ My eyes wander over the messages sent earlier and I take a deep breath many times – so many times when possible in an attempt to calm down. He couldn't find it, could he? He's not even from the police! Only authorized personnel can collect addresses, right? Of course you do, Victoria. Stop worrying. I get up from the sofa and go to the window, pulling the curtain a little and watching the activity on the street. I don't think he'll find me here, in a place so full of people. And I'm no longer recognizable. Now I have brown hair, not black. Apparently, I'm thinner too, as I'm having to buy new clothes in smaller sizes. The cause of this? Probably the days I spent eating soup to save money for the rent on the new house: in another neighborhood, far away from it, trying to feel free again. And I also got two tattoos. On the left thigh and another on the right shoulder. I'm no longer the Victoria I was months ago. Months in which I was still close to him, in that relationship that suddenly became suffocating. I suffocate. And that's all we had, that's what I realized later. When I met Jacob that rainy morning at a bus stop before going to work and he offered me company under his umbrella, I could not have imagined that this man would later be so inconvenient, with distorted ideas. I thought about refusing the offer to be with him escaping the rain, after all, he was an unknown man at a bus stop. There was only him. And me. I also tried to take into account that he looked strange. I don't know if it was his appearance, his look, the combination of the two with emphasis on that cap he was wearing and which made a statement together with the large and apparently heavy jacket that covered his body. But, at first, he didn't give an impression of comfort being around him. Then I remembered that my mother was the one who used to judge people by their appearance and I ignored that – my instincts. I went under his umbrella and we started talking. Jacob didn't seem very friendly at first. He told me to be careful when I stepped on his sneakers, to stay still so he didn't get too wet and to stop rubbing his arm too much, which bothered him. That was very uncomfortable and I made any excuse, going to the other spot where there was a seat, to get away from him. Then he grabbed my arm, smiled and apologized. He said he was having a bad day and offered me his umbrella so I could be alone – which I didn't accept, of course. But I accepted his apology, which was my biggest mistake. I should have run away, but since I don't have a crystal ball, I really thought it was the result of a bad day on his part. We started talking calmly and, carried away by the moment, I ended up giving him my number when he asked me. He said he had recently moved and friends of his had stayed behind. That's what life as an adult means, renouncing yourself, he explained. Real friends don't take the time to see each other, I should have paid attention to that. But I didn't. I gave my number and we started chatting on WhatsApp. Because of my work, a photographer for PEARL, a famous and acclaimed magazine, it took me a while to say yes to his invitations for dates. Until it finally happened. On a Friday night, when I just wanted to relax, we went to a bar. We talked, laughed, drank, danced and kissed. And then came another date and another, several more until I was asked to be his girlfriend. It was more of a normal relationship until the third month, when Jacob started wanting to know who was texting me, asking to see my cell phone, asking when I was going to give him a copy of my house key, also insisting on knowing if I didn't. I trusted him, and that question always scared me, because I didn't trust him like I thought. And whenever I refused any of these things or hesitated too much, he became irate. He once pulled the cell phone out of my hand so hard that it hurt. And since that day, I had to hide my applications and avoid talking about very personal topics on WPP. When I realized, I was already feeling trapped, almost hanging in the will of a man I didn't love and who gave me nothing but fear. I said I wanted to finish, he accepted. All at peace, were his words

getting to work, it takes me longer, but I'm trying to find freedom again. The one I had before my path crossed with Jacob's. Chapter 2 Nathan - I'll do this for you - Camila asks herself to correct the spreadsheet that she herself made mistakes, leaning over my desk to the point of throwing her ass in my face. And for a moment my focus stops being trying to find a cruel enough model who wants to cheat on my father with me and starts being my hot secretary who always wants to give it to me. What can I say? Camila has an endless fire and I'm not going to complain about that.

It might be what I really need: a fuck that makes me take everything my father says out of my head. You are a good son. I want you to be happy. What a joke. If he wanted me to be happy, he would have worried about it when I was a child, not now, an adult and the owner of my own nose. I get up from my office chair and grab Camila's waist, just to turn her around and place her body on the table. Her smile guarantees my success and I undo it when I kiss her sweet mouth, she offers me her tongue and lets out moans that help me much more in trying to forget my father who is about to die. I open her blouse, lower the cups of her bra and dirty her nipples in my mouth. She screams, my hand digging under her skirt, finding her panties and moving them out of the way. He only cares now because there is only me to continue his name in the business sector. - Oh, Nathan... Yes, like that - Camila moans, making me return my mouth to hers. I kiss her in time with the touches of my fingers in her sex and when I notice her panting, I pay attention to opening my pants and freeing my cock. My hands go to the desk drawer and I take out one of the many packets of condoms. With a desk like this, very available, it's good to keep a stock nearby. - Faster - Camila asks as she takes off her panties and adjusts herself on the table, her legs open in the very face of temptation. - Fuck me now, Nathan. I do what she wants. I thrust myself into her body with a single thrust, the scream she lets out making me give another and another; a strong back and forth begins when Camila falls onto the table and I rest her legs on my shoulder. Everything is lucid then. Yes, things are very clear when it comes to sex, causing and having pleasure. But then they distort when I come back to reality and realize that I'm going to have the weight of carrying my father's name, his companies and a spotlight that I didn't ask for. One word: fuck. - Oh, like that! To be continued! Quite a lot, ouch. Tasty. Nathan, hm-hm... I let myself be carried away by Camila and her moans, her orgasm making me go faster, harder, angrier, until I myself manage to reach my climax, squinting my eyes and feeling the condom to fill. - Oh! - Camila sighs, stroking herself, a smile on her mouth as I pull out of her. - I love it when you fuck me hard. What does it matter if I'm happy? Why does he care now? Because he will die, is a very easy answer. - I need lunch - I say and quickly follow Camila to sit down, looking at me with disappointment as I get rid of the condom and tie it before heading to the bathroom in my office. - Go back to your seat, please. I don't want to keep anyone waiting. But the thing is, I don't want to hear Camila's post-sex sighs and compliments. She has that. Make me feel like the best guy in sex. Throw my ego up there. Which is cool, up to a point. Until the point where she starts to bother her. At the end of the day, I don't go home. Nor do I accept Camila's invitation to go to her dinner. I don't need more time with her. What we go through in the office is enough. As I enter the bar, my cell phone notifies me of a new message. I pick it up to check it out while taking a seat on one of the stools near the counter. I order a shot of whiskey, remembering Tina communicating that my father's health complications were also triggered quickly by the large amount of alcohol he consumed. Screw this? I'm not him. As the bartender gets my drink, my view wanders to the cell phone screen. Samuel sent me a photo of the new house, letting me know that I needed to attend the opening lunch. It's a law and I'll be arrested if I don't go. This makes me smile. And it's not even because I want to make fun of my friend. I feel happy for him and Ryan. Really. If they needed to find someone to complete them, great, they did well, may they always be very happy. Which isn't my case, fortunately either. Alone I am free; alone there is no one waiting for me with a series of questions that demand why; alone I only decide for myself, I speak for myself, I think only about myself and I don't have to worry about anyone else, just myself. And this thing about falling in love, creating bonds, emotional and loving bonds with another person... NO. It seems more like a curse than a blessing. I really don't want that. None of that. Let me be Nathan Russell, a good son and apparently not happy, and that's fine. I confirm to Samuel that I am going to his housewarming, congratulating him on his new achievement, then I send him a photo of the drinks shelf in front of me; putting away cell phone when my whiskey is brought. A good night, which the four of us friends would agree on back in the day. Victoria I gave myself the freedom to leave the house without caution. After all, I'm in a new, distant neighborhood, living in a new house, close to always busy streets; So I don't need to worry. Jacob would never find me. Unless he's from the police. And he isn't. His job is in a factory operating machines and has nothing to do with the police. Grounded and confident in this certainty, I head to one of the bar stools. It's busy, but not busy enough like on a Friday around ten at night, for example. I ask the bartender for water with lemon, who leaves with a smile and a "that's it"; A loud laugh next to me caught my attention. I look at the man in the suit, head slightly tilted forward, moving the glass in his hands, his black hair falling forward as the sound of his laughter stops echoing and he limits himself to a smile. It's not Jacob. Jacob has brown hair and is taller. And he also doesn't have a laugh like that, which is pleasant to hear. - Who comes to a bar to ask for water with lemon? - He asks and his eyes come to meet mine. He's beautiful, I'm impressed. Despite being noticeably younger. Straight dark hair, thick eyebrows and long eyelashes in a measured and perfect set with dark eyes. Perfection exists, it seems. - I'll come - I reply, my throat dry. I want to believe that the walk from my house to here was a bit long, but there's also the chance that I was moved by this man's beauty. Younger than me, for sure, but he's a mature man. Very well formed. - You don't drink alcoholic beverages? - he asks as if rambling.

that's the thing - he laughs -, women tend to be more responsible. - That's what you're saying. He shakes his head, his eyes boring into mine and I get goosebumps all over. It's an enigmatic look but at the same time it consumes me and sends me a telepathic message that I want you. Or maybe the message is mine. I'm wanting it. Which is not my fault. It's my body speaking for me. I left Jacob, and even before that, we had nothing. As I noted: I just suffocate. I didn't want him, he wasn't looking for me. Even if he looked, I wouldn't want him.

I don't know if I was betrayed, probably, but I don't care. Right now, I don't care about anything because this man's physical beauty has caught my full attention; younger and with penetrating eyes, he made me light up and remember that it had been a long time since I was with someone. More than two years, which is understandable when you're single, but dating like I was a year ago, it's strange to say the least. "Yeah," he nods. - I'm saying, yes - his body turns to face mine, my eyes restless in disturbance because his way of attracting is absurd. - My name is Nathan - he introduces himself. - And you? I shake my head. I wouldn't like to introduce myself, but he's so... So. And he left me feeling like sparks ran through my body. Have some respect for yourself, Victoria. You are a 29-year-old woman, not a teenager who is taken by a guy's good looks. - I'm someone - I smile, thanking the bartender when he brings my water and I can solve my dry throat. - Ah - Nathan gives a broken laugh. - It's okay, you don't need to tell me your name. She must be married, right? - he doesn't wait for an answer, adding: - I didn't want to give a bad impression, sorry. And it didn't work, I almost say. I'm just disturbed by its beauty and the way I was awakened in silence. - I would also be very insecure if I were married to a beautiful woman like you and saw her giving confidence to an asshole at a bar - he rambles again, making me look at him after taking a few sips of my drink. His smile challenges me not to respond, which is impossible. - Do you live here? - I decide to ask, looking for a more concrete subject area. If we're going to talk, let it be about something irrelevant. - No - his face takes away some of the subtlety. He sips some of the drink in his glass, his eyes becoming distracted ahead. - My father lives nearby. He's about to kick the bucket. - Wow, I'm sorry - I sympathize. - No, you don't need to feel it - Nathan responds immediately. - He's not those things to me. It won't be very difficult to deal with the fact that your heart stops beating. The last sentence is punctuated with a smile and he takes another sip of his drink. But I'm impressed again. It's your father, he should feel something for saying that. For this neglect. If he doesn't feel it, it's because something was wrong. - Aren't they attached? - I dare to ask. Okay, listening to someone's rant wasn't what I had in mind when I decided to leave the house to clear my mind; but, if that's what it has, that's what it will be. - Depends on what you call attachment - he raises his eyebrows and turns his penetrating eyes to me. Maybe it's the contrast of the long eyelashes and thick eyebrows that make her look so striking, but either way, it's a look worthy of all the attention. I divert mine, choosing to drink more lemon water. I feel more grounded doing this than facing him. - He called me to make one last request - Nathan says, not bothering to return to my question about attachment. - He wants to see me married, but, you know, I'm not going to do that shit just because he wants me to. I look at him again. - You seem irritated - I comment. - Is he a rebellious son? He smirks, leaning forward a little. Not much, just to the point of making my breath suspend for a millisecond due to the projection of the almost. It almost reaches me too close. - I'm a good son, my father said so himself - he confides in a low voice. - Were you a good daughter to your parents? It's a really weird question, but if I wanted to know about him, it would be okay to answer that about myself. "Yes," I say. - I was always a good daughter. My parents don't say that much, considering that it wasn't, and isn't, the easiest thing in the world to pay attention to seven children. But, it's noticeable, I think. That I'm a good daughter, I mean. - Seven? - Nathan whistles. - Cum. This is what it means to enjoy populating the Earth. I laugh. A sincere laugh. Free. Light. And it's the first since I can remember after Jacob. - Yes, seven. I think in the past the pastime was dating. He smiled. - It should be - he agrees. - What's your hobby? - Ah - I say as if it were something banal to respond. - I'm a photographer, so I think this is my hobby: taking photos. - Don't you like anything else? He looks fleetingly interested, which makes me smile. - Good yes. I like to try to paint the flowers I photograph sometimes. I don't come close to real beauty, but I try. It's fun. "Real beauty," he repeats, his eyes narrowing, as if examining me. - Like yours? - Mine? - I laugh again. - You are so pretty. Lovely. I'm pretty sure that's your name. Your parents saw you and had no doubt that it would be the perfect name for their daughter, where all the beauty remained. Did I get it right? My laugh now is one of embarrassment. It was a lame thing for Nathan to say, but it's been a while since I've felt this light, and I've had someone flirt with me, so I have a free pass to embarrass myself and Nathan has a free pass to be lame. - No no. My name is Victoria. And only after saying it do I realize that I introduced myself without realizing it. Chapter 4 Nathan - Victoria - I repeat. - With that name, she was born victorious. The hot girl next to me lets out a murmur. I didn't say the right thing or she completely disagrees with the words that left my mouth. Regardless of what it was, I don't think it will be difficult to get her to my house in a few minutes. I'm needy is clearly written on her forehead. Even though she makes a great effort to hide it, by not saying her name at first, it's not like she shows disinterest. - You have brothers? - Victoria chooses to ask rather than scold me. - Only child. How good, right? Imagine two, three or seven - I smile - children being raised by a father like mine, who didn't even remember he had a son. I came to the conclusion that he must hate my mother. - Why? - she finds it strange. - For putting me in the world and consequently in his life. - Oh - Victoria takes a moment to digest my answer and adds a question: - By the way, how is she dealing with the fact that her father is almost... passing away? I smile. - I don't know, I don't know about her - I disdain. - He left, that's all he said to me when I managed to find him to ask - I look at my empty glass, the glass suddenly looking interesting. - Not that I care, I'm not going to blame an attitude that I don't understand. My father must not have been the best husband either. Good father was not.