Craving My Ruthless Ceo novel Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Splashed A Drink On My Boss

Ana’s POV

Roman Blackwood, my boss, stood beside Zetrov, deep in conversation. He looked devastatingly handsome, outshining Zetrov, the celebrant.

“Your Zetrov,” I whispered tightly, “is talking to my boss.”

“The CEO of Blackwood Industries,” I said through gritted teeth. “Yes. Him.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my God. What’s he doing here?”

I sank lower on the barstool, trying to hide behind my glass. “I was about to ask the same thing.”

Zoe blinked, still whispering. “He’s literally a billionaire, Ana. Of course he’d be here.”

My stomach twisted. “Oh no. No, no, no. If he sees me here, dressed like this, drinking, he’ll fire me. He actually will.”

Zoe tried not to laugh but failed miserably. “You’re overreacting. You’re off the clock.”

“You don’t get it,” I hissed, panicking as I adjusted my glasses. “He hates distractions. He’ll think this is one. He’ll think I’m one.”

Zoe snorted softly, swirling her drink. “Relax. He’s not going to fire you for having a life. Just don’t do anything stupid like spilling your drink on him or…..”

“Zoe,” I whispered urgently, “he’s looking this way.”

She didn’t even glance up. “He’s not looking at you, Ana. Relax.”

“Zoe…..”

Her voice suddenly dropped. “You’re right….. shit. I think he has spotted you.”

My stomach plunged. “What? No, no, no…..” I ducked slightly, grabbing my glass as if it could shield me. “I can’t face him. We have to leave. Now.”

Zoe caught my wrist before I could even move. “We can’t just leave because your boss showed up,” she said calmly, her tone maddeningly reasonable. “You’re an adult, and you’re off the clock. I think, rather than hiding, you should face him.”

“Are you insane?” I hissed, panic rising in my chest. “I can’t face him. I’m….. I’m too scared of him.”

Her lips curved into a teasing smile. “Or maybe you’re just too into him.”

“Zoe!” I glared at her, heat rushing to my face. “You’ve completely lost it! I’m already on the verge of losing my job, and now you want me to make it worse by throwing myself at my boss? He’s a billionaire, Zoe. I’m just….. plain Ana.”

“That’s not true,” she countered, leaning closer with a knowing grin. “Tonight, there’s nothing plain about you. That dress, your curves, your hair, God, Ana, you look stunning.”

She trailed off mid-sentence, her eyes darting past me. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Oh….. he’s walking now.”

“What?” My head jerked up.

“He’s walking towards us.”

My heart stuttered painfully. “Shit, what do I do? Zoe, what do I do? I’m tipsy, and…..”

Zoe’s grin widened, though her voice trembled slightly. “He’s getting closer. You better work up some courage, because you’re going to need it.”

And then, instead of helping, she started gushing under her breath. “Oh my God, he’s even more handsome in person. That suit, that face, he looks like a Greek God in that three-piece.”

I could barely breathe. My palms were clammy, my pulse wild. I reached for the nearest shot glass, then another, and downed them both before she could stop me.

The burn hit fast, sliding down my throat like fire, spreading warmth to my chest, my head. The room tilted slightly, the music louder, the lights softer. My nerves dulled just enough to keep me from bolting.

Zoe stared at me, wide-eyed. “Ana, what did you just do?”

I swallowed hard, forcing a shaky breath. “Liquid courage,” I muttered, straightening my back.

And then I saw him. Roman Blackwood. Walking toward us with that slow, confident stride that made the entire room seem to tilt in his direction. The crowd parted, eyes followed, but his gaze was fixed solely on me.

Zoe leaned close and whispered, half-laughing, “Okay, okay, he’s here. Just smile. Don’t panic. And for God’s sake, Ana, don’t do anything stupid like spilling your drink on him…..”

I let out a nervous laugh, eyes still on Roman. “I just hope not,” I muttered. “You know how clumsy I can be.”

He was closer now.

Shit. I turned away for a second, trying to steady myself, then sat up straighter. My head felt a little fuzzy, my lips still tingling from the alcohol, but I lifted my chin anyway, determined not to let him see how much he affected me.

If I was going down tonight, I’d at least face him head-on.

“Anna Winters.”

Even through the haze of alcohol, I knew that voice. Deep, commanding, too smooth to be anyone else’s.

I turned, and there he was… Roman Blackwood. My boss. Even up close, he was unfairly handsome. The white shirt beneath his suit jacket clung perfectly to his broad shoulders, the top buttons undone just enough to hint at the firm lines of his chest. The dark fabric of his jacket framed him perfectly.

He reached out, but I jerked my arm away. “Like hell I am,” I snapped.

Roman’s jaw tightened. “Don’t test my patience any further.”

Zoe quickly stepped between us, her voice soft and pleading. “Roman, please don’t be upset with her. It’s all my fault. I dragged her out here, and now I feel terrible that she might get in trouble because of me.”

Roman didn’t even look at her. “The trouble could be mitigated,” his voice was even, “if she follows me calmly.”

Zoe turned to me and whispered, “Come on, Ana. Please. Follow your boss. Don’t make a scene.”

I was tipsy, too warm, too emotional, too reckless. “No,” I blurted out loudly, shaking my head. “I’m not following him.”

Roman’s eyes hardened. “You agreed to follow the rules,” he said, irritation clear in his voice. “Those reports are due tomorrow, and I’m sure you haven’t finished them.”

I almost laughed. He had no clue. I’d already wrapped up every single page, putting in hours of effort he’d never believe I was capable of. Yet here he was, looking at me like I was some careless girl wasting his time.

“Well,” I shot back, mustering more courage than I felt, “why don’t we wait until tomorrow to find out?”

He paused, disbelief crossing his face. He clearly wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by me. But I stood my ground.

“You’re coming with me,” he ordered, like I was supposed to just obey, no questions asked.

I tilted my head, pretending I hadn’t heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

He stepped closer, his tall frame looming over me. “I said you’re leaving with me, Ana.”

I rolled my eyes, a thousand reckless ideas sparking in my mind. I turned slightly, pretending to reach for my bag, but my hand brushed the half-full glass sitting on the bar instead.

His words kept echoing, that calm, arrogant tone, like he owned the ground I stood on.

When I turned back, his chest was right there. Perfect shirt. Perfect man. Perfect reason to make a mess.

“Well,” I breathed, a sweet smile curving my lips, “if you insist.”

I tilted the glass and splashed the drink before he could react, dark amber spreading across his pristine white shirt, dripping down his chest and into his jacket. Gasps rippled through the nearby crowd.