The CEO's Regret: Darling, Don’t Leave Me novel Chapter 177

Chapter 126: Crossing a Line.

Alexander

I don’t like to lose control, Thever have. Much less… When it comes to someone I thought I understood perfectly… Clara.

I lay my hands on the desk, watching the open reports in front of me. Figures, projections, movements… everything in order.

Too much in order. And that’s precisely what bothers me.

Because when everything seems perfect… It’s when it’s easiest to break it, I turn the page calmly, stopping at details that I wasn’t so interested in before.

Small mistakes, questionable decisions. Nothing serious, yet, but enough, enough to begin with.

“Interesting,” I murmured.

I lean forward a little more, marking a line with the pen.

It is not a critical error, but it is a decision that I can question. And that’s all I need.

I see her before she sees me. Clara walks down the corridor with that confidence she has always had. People greet her, some even straighten up a little when she passes.

She is still the owner, the one in charge. But now… there is something different, softer. More… distracted. And I know exactly why.

Ethan.

My jaw barely tightens, so it’s true. It was not an impression, nor was it a coincidence.

She’s already there… there again. I exhale slowly, perfect. So this is going to be easier than I thought.

“Clara,” I call her.

She stops, turns. And for a second… I see it.

That small reaction, full of something akin to discomfort, but it’s not… nor guilt. What is it? I don’t know

what it is, but it seems like caution.

Interesting.

She walks towards me with a firm step.

“Alexander.”

She says in a formal tone, very correct, distant.

I smile barely.

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“Do you have a moment?”

She nods.

“Of course.”

I gesture to the nearest meeting room. She doesn’t say anything, but she enters.

I close the door behind her.

I put the documents down on the table, calmly arranging them. There is no hurry… This is not something that should be done urgently.

This… it is done well.

“I’ve been going through some reports of the expansion,” I begin.

She takes a seat in front of me, attentive, professional.

“And?”

She asks directly. She always has.

I slide one of the documents to her.

“Here,” he pointed out. “This decision.”

Clara lowers her gaze, checks. She doesn’t say anything, silence.

She doesn’t say anything right away.

“It’s not a mistake,” I add. “But it is… risky.”

She looks up at me.

“It’s calculated.”

I nod slowly.

“Of course.”

I lean back in my chair.

“But lately you’ve been making several decisions… “calculated“.

I use my fingers to make quotation marks in the air.

“And when they pile up… they cease to be strategy.”

pause, I observe her.

“They become impulses.”

There it is, the first crack. A small, but intentional one.

Clara holds my gaze.

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She does not shrink, stre does not justify herself

I know what I’m doing.”

Of course she knows, she always has. That’s why this is more interesting.

I tilt my head slightly.

“Sure?”

She doesn’t say anything. The word floats away… It is not aggressive, but it is not innocent either.

“Because from the outside,” I continue, “it seems that your focus is not quite here.”

I leave it at that, without saying his name. Without mentioning anything directly.

But it is not necessary.

She understands it, I see it in that small change in her expression. It is minimal, but enough.

“My focus is where it needs to be,” she replies.

Her tone remains firm.

But now… More content, more measured.

I nod.

“I hope so.”

I leave another document in front of her.

“Because when there are partners involved,” I add, “we can’t afford distractions.”

Silence again. But this… it weighs more, because now it is clear.

I don’t say it, but I say it all.

I watch her waiting and measuring. Because this is not about a report.

It’s not about numbers, it’s about control. About position, about reminding her… where we are.

And what she stands to lose.

Clara takes the document, reviews it. She breathes… And when she looks up… there is no softness

anymore.

Only clarity.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

I smile. There it is… The Clara I know.

“I’m saying it.”

I lean forward a little.

“You just don’t want to hear it.”

Her eyes don’t leave mine.

“Then be clearer.”

I exhale gently, well. If that’s what she wants…

“Don’t mix personal matters with business”

Direct, bluntly, without softening it.

The silence that follows… it’s different. Denser, more real.

“Because if you do,” I add, more quietly, “it doesn’t just affect you.”

I let the sentence remain incomplete, there is no need to finish it.

She understands, she always understands.

I lie down again, calm, controlled.

“And I’m not going to allow a bad personal decision… affects what we build here.”

I stare at her.

No blinking, no yielding. Because this… It’s not a warning. It’s a line, and I just marked it.

“What exactly do you mean?”

Her voice cuts through the air, bluntly.

I look at her, she doesn’t look down, she doesn’t dodge. Clara has never been one of those who retreats easily… And that, before, I liked.

Now… I use it.

“I don’t understand what this has to do with my personal life,” she adds.

There it is, the line I was waiting for her to cross.

I tilt my head slightly, observing her calmly. I don’t answer right away.

I let silence do its thing, to weigh, to make it uncomfortable.

“It has more to do with it than you think,” I say at the end, in a calm tone.

Too quiet.

My fingers gently tap the table, marking a slow, controlled rhythm.

“When someone starts making bad decisions in one area,” I continued, “it’s a matter of time before that seeps into others.”

I observe her carefully, each micro–expression. Every reaction.

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“And at this level.” Ladd, “there is no room for error.”

Clara barely frowns, she doesn’t like it. I know… But she can’t easily disarm it either.

Because I’m not accusing, I’m insinuating: And that… It’s much more uncomfortable.

“You’re still not clear,” she says.

Its tone lowers one degree, firmer, sharper.

I barely smiled, very slightly.

“I don’t need to be.”

I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

I don’t look away. And this time… I don’t make it softer either.

+25 Ponts

“The only thing I’m interested in,” I continue, “is that your personal decisions don’t start to affect this.”

I point out the documents between us, the company, ours.

“Because now it’s not just you,” I add. “Now we are partners.”

I let that word weigh, to fall where it has to fall.

“And I can’t allow you to affect me with your-” I pause for a moment, as if choosing the word. “Stupidity.”

There it is, direct. No frills.

The silence that follows… it’s colder. More tense, but I don’t move, I don’t retreat.

I hold her with my eyes, completely serious now.

“If you want to make mistakes in your personal life… Do it,” I say, barely shrugging my shoulders. “It’s none

of my business.”

A lie. But she will not know.

“But here…” I tap the table gently with a finger, “that has consequences.”

I lean back in my chair.

Calm. As if I had not just crossed a line.

“And I’m not going to pay for them.”

I watch her, waiting. Measuring… Because this is not a discussion, it is a movement.

And I want to see… how she responds.