Faceless Love with Mr CEO

Prologue

"Hello, somebody help me, please! Anybody, can you hear me?" I called out, my voice echoing in the confined space.

"Keep your mouth shut and remain calm. No one can hear you," a gruff voice responded.

"Please, where am I? Why am I being tied up? I need to go back to my husband and family," I pleaded with my vision blurry.

The short, bald man gave a long, mocking laugh. "Husband? The same husband who has rejected you and sold you out?"

"Sold? What do you mean sold? He would never do that," I said, my voice shaking.

"You have been sold, and you are going to meet your new owner. So stop screaming and preserve your strength. I will bring you food later." With that, he left.

I sank to the floor as tears flooded my eyes....

Being sold for the second time, here I was, tied up in a container on a ship in the middle of an ocean, heading to an unknown destination.

The only thing I could remember was driving to the office to meet up with Carl for the investors meeting when a car ran into mine, causing my car to somersault.

Because of my negligence and rushing to get to the office, I forgot to wear a seatbelt. I was ejected from the car, landing hard on the ground.

I struggled desperately to rise but was devoid of strength, my whole body throbbing with pain until I became unconscious. Only to wake up and find myself here.

Pain radiated throughout my body, especially my face.

*************

The man in charge, I guess, came back afterwards with some bread and water, which I grabbed quickly from his hands and shoved into my mouth. I was famished and couldn't take it slowly.

I didn't wait to swallow the bread before gulping the water down my throat. After that, I fell asleep, only to be woken up by the clicking sound of the keys used to lock the container I was in.

I opened my eyes and stretched my weak body. I didn't know how long I had been in the container.

He got in and untied me, leading me out.

"Is she the one?" a deep, husky voice said.

"Yes, boss, she is," the man replied.

He walked towards me slowly and stopped right in front of me, puffing thick smoke into the air.

"She would serve just fine as my sex slave. Get her in the car," he said.

"Sex what?!" I blurted out, throwing up on his clothes....

Chapter 1

Mia's POV****************

My full name is Mia Miloslava Pankraz, and I'm 27 years old. After 3 years of struggling, I finally landed the job I'd dreamed of at LiveStrong, a prestigious company.

Living in Harburg, I'd gotten used to the cold stares and whispers that followed me in the streets.

My mother, Mathilda, used to be my world. But after my father's death, everything changed. She turned cold, filled with hatred, convinced that I was responsible.

She blamed me, as did everyone else. And I don't blame her; it was easier to pin the blame on someone else, someone who was just a child at the time. But the weight of that blame has been crushing me ever since.

When she left me, I thought maybe things would get better. I was sent to live with my grandfather, but life with him wasn't easy. He was harsh and demanding.

As I ran down the empty street, the wind whipped through my hair, and my tears streamed down my face, stinging my skin.

My heart was pounding in my chest with each desperate step to escape the nightmare unfolding around me.

People on the sidewalk stared at me with shock, and car horns blared, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered except getting as far away as I could.

It sounds insane, right? Who runs away from their own wedding?Well... me.

My only focus was on fleeing the crushing pressure and the unknown man I was supposed to marry.

My once-beautiful wedding dress now felt like a restrictive, suffocating garment.

This wasn't my happily ever after, it was a suffocating nightmare unfolding in stark white satin.

I didn't know where I was headed, but I needed to get home and change first and then run as far as I could.

I flagged down a cab, breathless and frantic. Throwing myself into the backseat, I blurted out the address, my voice ragged with panic.

"Just go, please!" The concerned look on the driver's face did little to ease my frantic state.

"Wait here. I don't have any money on me," I told the driver before dashing inside the house.

I hurried to my room, struggling to get out of the tight wedding dress that felt like a suffocating prison.

In my haste, I ripped a part of the dress, but I didn't care.

The noise outside grew louder, and before I could understand what was happening, the front door flew open with a bang. My mother walked into the room and slapped me across my face.

Before I could stammer an explanation.

"You Ungrateful bitch! How dare you! "After what you did to your father, you still have the audacity to dishonor our family like this?", you have no remorse. Have you no shame?" Her voice was laced with venom.

My cheeks burned from the slap, and I stood there, stunned and speechless, as words were heavy to come out.

"You can't do this to me!" I cried, tears streaming down my face. "I have a job now! I can pay you back for everything!"

Before I could recover from the slap, she sent another one across my other cheeks, the force pushing me backwards.

My mother's voice was icy. "Keep your mouth shut you've caused enough trouble, Mia. This is for the best."

"But I'm your daughter!" Mia pleaded. "Please, let me go. I promise I'll make things right."

My grandfather entered the room, slowly walking towards me as I retreated backwards till he pinned me against the wall, gripping my face and my hand tightly.

"Enough, Mia. You're getting married today, and that's final." Don't try anything funny. I won't warn you again. Do you understand?" he said, his voice cold and unyielding.

I nodded, swallowing the sobs threatening to break free. There was no escape. Not from him. Not from any of this. Resistance was futile.

With a cruel smile, my mother stepped forward, pretending to fix the torn dress. "Now smile," she said softly, tapping my cheek. "We can't have the guests thinking something's wrong."

I forced a smile, knowing it looked strained and unnatural. They led me out to a decorated car with wedding stickers by the plate number.

The cab driver who brought me had left, tired of waiting I guess.

I got into the car, my mother beside me and my grandfather in front, as the driver in a black tuxedo drove off, my reflection in the car window was a stranger, a ghost of my former self.

The once vibrant light in my eyes had been replaced by a dull despair.

The church loomed ahead, the grand doors already open, inviting me in to face my fate. The driver parked the car, and I was ushered out, a makeup artist quickly dusting powder on my cheeks before I stepped through the entrance.

At the church, guests were already inside.My grandfather held my hands as we walked down the aisle, flowers being thrown above us. I felt like a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter.

I couldn't help but notice how the church was overly decorated and one would know the wedding was for the rich.

My mother was radiant with joy, flashing a bright smile from the left side of the church, surrounded by a small yet distinguished gathering of high-society guests who had come to witness the occasion, despite the relatively small crowd.

"Behave yourself and smile," Granpa said through gritted teeth. I forced another smile which wasn't obvious because of the veil that covered my face as I looked forward.

I saw him from behind standing there dressed in an elegant white suit with a touch of black, fitting him perfectly.

As I took each step closer, dread filled my heart as it couldn't stop beating fast. Just then, I approached the altar, the priest a little above us, with the help of the stairs.

Then he turned to face me. He was asked by the priest to unveil me.

My heart raced as I stood there, my mind struggling to process the shock.

Immediately, he lifted the veil, and our eyes met. "Wait, what?".

We both exclaimed in unison, the entire room seemed to freeze as we stared at each other with my mouth wide open and my eyes almost popping out......

Cha

Carl's POV

Today was supposed to be the day I surrendered to my dad's persistent demands to get married, but instead of feeling excited or nervous, I just felt irritated.

I'm Carl Oswald. At 30, I'm the acting CEO of LiveStrong, a company I inherited from my father. On paper, I have everything-a powerful position, endless wealth, and the legacy of a thriving empire.

But what most people don't know is that I live with prosopagnosia, face blindness. I can't recognize faces or read facial expressions, not even my own family's. All I see are features that blur together, like pieces of a puzzle I can never solve. Voices, scents, and the way people move those are the only ways I navigate this colorless, faceless world.

I looked at the neatly arranged suit beside me, feeling a mixture of resignation and frustration. I had more important things to do, yet here I was, forced into a wedding I hadn't even agreed to willingly.

My father, a man of practicality and power, had orchestrated this whole thing. To him, a marriage was a strategic alliance, nothing more. And to me? It felt like an unnecessary complication.

I stood up, pulling the suit jacket over my shoulders, and stared blankly at my reflection. I couldn't even see my own face clearly. Just a blur of features, indistinguishable from anyone else's. My hands tightened around the collar of my shirt, grounding me in the reality of the day.

A sharp wave of panic set in. My new secretary, Miloslava, was supposed to be here by now. I'd given her clear instructions to arrive at the mansion before the ceremony. I needed her to help me with last-minute preparations, mainly paperwork, but also to help me navigate through the day.

She was the only person who could keep me from embarrassing myself in front of people whose faces I wouldn't recognize.

"Get here early," I'd barked into the phone yesterday, "I might need some last-minute paperwork sorted." But of course, she was unreachable.

I kept dialing her number, only to be sent straight to voicemail growing increasingly frustrated. She'd only started yesterday, and she was already proving unreliable.

With my condition, I couldn't afford that. I needed someone who understood the importance of being on time and dependable.

"She'll get it real hot from me when she shows up late," I muttered, shoving the thought aside for the moment.

The drive to the office was quick, but I couldn't focus. The cityscape blurred past, but all I could think about was Miloslava's absence. My world was black and white, literally and figuratively. Colors didn't exist for me, and faces were just shadows. That's how it had always been. Except... for her. Miloslava was different. She wasn't just a voice or a blur. When she spoke, there was something vibrant-something I couldn't explain. I couldn't see her face, but she brought a spark of color into my dull existence.

The office was eerily quiet when I arrived. I stopped at Miloslava's desk and, unsurprisingly, found her absent. Irritated, I stormed into my office, grabbed the necessary paperwork, and left.

On the way back, my thoughts returned to my wedding.

Why did I need a wife anyway? I'd managed perfectly well on my own all these years.

Work was my life, my passion. The constant churn of projects, the thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of a deal well struck and most importantly, getting investors to invest, these were the things that fueled me.

A wife, in my mind, was just another variable, another complication to my existence.

I didn't believe in love, not the way others did. A marriage wasn't about affection or partnership for me. It was just business, just like everything else in my life.

Yet, ironically, here I was, about to exchange vows with a woman I hadn't even met before for reasons best known to my dad.

I just needed a competent secretary, which I finally seemed to have found after sacking nearly 30 people every month. Well, don't think I'm bad-they were just incompetent. Worst of all, most of them couldn't even make a decent coffee.

The car finally screeched to a halt at the mansion.

My ever-reliable chauffeur, John, jumped out to open the door.

I stepped out to find my father rushing toward me. "Son, where have you been? It's almost time for your wedding," he said, his face full of happiness as his four eyes met mine.

"I had to quickly pick up something, Dad, but I'm back now," I replied.

"Shall we?" he said, leading the way.

I got into another car, well-decorated and we headed to the church, where a few guests were seated. I'd told Dad I didn't want a large crowd, so he invited a few friends and family, which I still found a bit large.

I walked to the altar and stood in front of the priest, waiting for my bride, with Hans behind me.

My gaze darted around the elegantly decorated church, still no sign of Miloslava. "That miss is in for so much trouble," I muttered to myself.

A few minutes later, the creaking sound of the door echoed, and as the guests and choir arose, I knew my unknown bride was here.

The choir began a soft melody, "Here comes the bride, here comes the bride."

Everything remained numb to me. I just wanted to get done with this whole process and continue working on my project at the office.

Then, she appeared veiled in white, she glided down the aisle, her face obscured by the delicate fabric. As she approached the altar, the priest prompted me to lift the veil.

I could see her chestnut hair parked in a bun, her flawless skin color. Wait, does it mean I can see things with color now? My heart lurched in my throat.

Standing before me, eyes wide with a mixture of nervousness and defiance, with a familiar smell I lifted her veil as instructed by the priest was Miloslava.

Wait what!!! My new secretary? My bride? This has to be a joke.