Making the CEO Kneel and Beg: I won’t Let Him Control Me!

"Did you see Mr. Forge came in with Valentine today? If he really cared about Anne, wouldn’t he have made sure she wasn’t coming in alone? Her arm’s still broken, isn’t it?"

I paused just before stepping into the breakroom, my hand frozen on the door handle.

"Exactly!" another voice chimed in. "Everyone's talking about it. She’s really got her claws into the CEO, doesn’t she? Poor Anne. But can you blame her? After all, who’d let go of a CEO? Imagine the power—and the perks—that come from being so close to him."

At that, I pushed the door open, cutting their whispers short. The breakroom went silent.

Without a word, I walked to the water station, filled my bottle, and then left just as quietly as I'd entered.

*

"So this is where you've been hiding."

I looked up from my screen to see Raymond standing there, brows knit and lips twisted into a faint scowl.

Normally, I'd be full of apologies, stumbling over myself to explain why I hadn’t answered his messages because of my workload.

But tonight? I couldn’t bring myself to care about his irritation. My gaze drifted past him to the wall clock ticking its way to 10:10 PM. That explained why the office had grown so quiet.

"Why didn’t you respond to my messages?" Raymond pressed, his voice clipped with impatience.

I blinked, reaching into my purse to fish out my personal phone. Sure enough, his last message was waiting on the screen.

Mr. X: [You wouldn’t complain about getting a strawberry cupcake, right?]

Just then, he set down a small, pristine package from Smile Cake—the most sought-after bakery in town, a haven for sweets lovers.

Normally, I’d be overjoyed, but tonight, the gesture left me cold. I simply returned my attention to the monitor, ignoring the neatly wrapped box.

“What?” he asked, his voice now tinged with confusion and simmering irritation. "You used to beg me to get you one of these."

"Raymond, it’s past 6 PM," I said with a sigh, my fingers still tapping on the keyboard. "I told you—I don’t eat sweets at night. I’ll get a sugar rush and be up half the night."

Before he could protest, I added, “And wasn’t it you who told me to stop wanting ‘childish’ things like cupcakes?”

There was a pause. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him open his mouth, then close it, clearly taken aback

Maybe he hadn’t expected me to push back, or maybe he was struggling to brush off his own words from the past.

But before either of us could speak again, his phone buzzed. He answered it quickly, not even checking the screen.

“My God, Ray! Why did you send me THIS many cupcakes—” The voice was loud and unmistakable. Valentine.

Raymond hurriedly lowered the volume, stepping away from my cubicle, his expression caught somewhere between guilt and panic.

Before he disappeared around the corner, he turned back, mouthing, “Wait here. Go home with me.”

I rolled my eyes and returned to my screen, already tuning him out.

*

In the end, Raymond drove me home.

I didn’t wait for him to get out of the car—he was already absorbed in his phone, grinning like a fool at whatever was on the screen.

At this point, I didn’t need to guess who he was texting.

Once inside, I went straight to my bedroom, grabbed my suitcase, and began packing the essentials I’d take back to my hometown. With my injury, though, it was slow going; every movement took twice as long as I’d hoped.

“Anne!” Raymond’s voice startled me.

He appeared in the doorway, still smirking from whatever chat he’d been having on his phone. There was a beat of silence as he took in the scene, and then his smile disappeared, replaced by a look of irritation.

“What’s this?” he demanded, incredulous. “Are you seriously threatening to leave just because you were upset this morning?”

He didn’t stop there. “I was about to tell you I’ll be going on a business trip next month. I wanted to ask what you might want, and this is how you act?”

I looked up, meeting his gaze without a hint of hesitation. “Oh, you don't need to bother bringing me anything,” I replied calmly, tucking a lipstick into my suitcase. “Really, I'm fine.”

His offer meant nothing to me now. Soon, I’d be gone from this place anyway.

"I can’t believe you, Anne,” he muttered, a note of dismay in his voice. “You know how exhausting work is, and this is what I come home to?” He loosened his tie and tossed it onto the bed along with his suit jacket.