The CEO's Little MistressChapter 2

My first instinct was to hang up, but muscle memory took over, and I answered. Nathan's arrogant voice immediately filled my ear.

"Monica. Have you learned your lesson?"

He didn't wait for me to speak. "Here's a chance to make it up to me. Heather is exhausted after the long day, and she's feeling a bit of a chill. She needs to rest. You'll take her place at the client dinner tonight."

"If you handle it well, I might be willing to forgive your little tantrum from earlier…"

The way he spoke, as if ordering a servant, made me laugh out loud. Had he forgotten that I had also spent the entire day waiting, exposed to the same cold wind?

There was a time when a single sneeze from me would have had him draping his coat over my shoulders, fussing over me with hot ginger tea and medicine, terrified I might fall ill. Now, he spoke to me as if I were a tool, my feelings an irrelevant inconvenience.

More importantly, had he forgotten that I was severely allergic to alcohol?

In the early years of our startup, schmoozing with clients was a necessary evil. But back then, Nathan had shielded me. He would turn down any event with drinking, and if it was unavoidable, he would drink for the both of us. He’d come home staggering drunk, hugging the toilet bowl, but still find the strength to reassure me, telling me not to worry, to get some sleep.

That man, the one whose world had once revolved around me, was gone.

This time, I didn't crumble. I didn't compromise for the sake of our crumbling relationship. My voice was steel.

"I can't go, Nathan. I'm allergic to alcohol. And besides, that's Heather's responsibility, not mine."

His stunned silence was followed by a roar of fury. "I'm trying to be nice to you, and you're going to pull this crap? I pay your salary! That means you are on call for me 24/7. That is your obligation!"

A calm smile spread across my face. "Then I quit."

Before he could respond, I hung up and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time.

"Mr. Sterling, it's Monica. I'm accepting your offer."

The company was a major international design firm, a global leader in the industry. I’d met Leo Sterling a year ago on a collaboration. Just before signing the deal, I'd noticed a structural flaw in their new product—a design choice made for aesthetics that would have led to frequent malfunctions and a PR nightmare. After I pointed it out, he immediately halted production, saving the company tens of millions of dollars.

He’d become one of my few friends. After learning about the way I was being treated at Nathan's company, he had flown out more than once, trying to recruit me. He’d offered me the position of Design Director and eight figures in stock options.

But Nathan, haunted by his childhood, refused to leave the country. So, for him, I had turned it down, sacrificing my own future to stay by his side. I thought my devotion would be returned in kind. Instead, I had lost everything.

I had given him my youth, my health, ten years of my life, and in return, I didn't even get his name. It wasn't worth it. It was time to start thinking about myself.

Leo's joyful voice pulled me back to the present. "Monica, really?! We're ready for you anytime. But what happened? The last time we spoke, you were planning a wedding."

I managed a wry laugh. "Nothing much. We just broke up."

There was a pause on his end, then his voice softened with sympathy. "Monica, I don't know the details, but I know you. It's his loss. It's definitely his loss."

A moment later, a notification popped up on my phone. A fifty-thousand-dollar wire transfer.

"A little something to help you get settled, Monica. We'll be waiting for you."

I smiled, and after a brief chat about logistics, I hung up. Just as I accepted the transfer, Nathan updated his social media.