Ordinary Human Mated to an Alpha CEO

My Mate

LOGAN’S POV

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I didn’t mean to follow her home, but how fascinating, yet enraging it was to see how close she lived. Just down the road of my estate, in a small home that probably didn’t have more than two bedrooms, yet— there was something about the way it looked that made it less crappy.

I couldn’t believe that’s where she lived. I couldn’t believe that in the seven years I’ve been looking for my mate, she just lived down the street.

And is so utterly human— breakable in so many ways, like glass and I’m supposed to be the rough hands that take care of her?

Every whisper of thought is her.

Have her.

She is yours.

Take her.

Fuck her.

And the worst part is, I really f*****g want to.

I want to have her in my arms, to make her squirm and moan and submit— but how do you tell a vanilla human that you want to break her and make her anew with one self?

I watched her throw things out of her home, and selfishly took everything and dumped it— because I knew why she did it. I saw the heartbreak in her eyes, the rage in echoing in every step, how utterly shattered she was, and even now, standing in her doorway, she has this broken look on her face that makes me want to murder someone. Not just someone, but Sean, my employee-- someone who works for me, someone I had just given a promotion to.

Aster would have asked me why I was being so f*****g stupid to come here, but I couldn't help it.

"I came to check up on you," I say, handing her the pizza box. I'm not sure how she could enjoy such junk food, but Aster said that most humans enjoy it.

Celina stares at the box, and then her beautiful green eyes flick up to meet mine, "How did you know where I lived?" She asks. I followed you home like a stalker. "Did you think I wouldn't know who lives on this street?" I grin, her eyes slightly widening in surprise. "I...you live on this street?" She asks surprised. "At the estate." I shrug, and her eyes become hard and then a little bit cold as she starts to nod, one ankle crossing behind the other. "Anyway," I murmur, extending the pizza box to her again, "I just wanted to check in." I explain.

I just wanted to have another glimpse of my mate.

She stares at the box, "I'm not hungry." I immediately frown, "Do you not like pizza?" Because if she doesn't, I'll happily go get her something else. Anything she wants. "No...I do." Her voice trails off along with her train of thought. She blinks, as if snapping herself out of a place in her mind she didn't want to be, "I'm just not hungry." Yet she's staring at the cardboard box in my hand as if it might single handedly save her life.

"Keep it, in case you get hungry." Her frown deepens, but she lifts a hand, taking it, pressing one end to her ribs, and then she just stares at me expectantly.

As if waiting for something.

Perhaps for me to leave.

But I don't want to.

I don't want to leave. I don't want to go home and not see her. I don't want to breathe if she isn't in the atmosphere around me.

"I have a proposition for you," The words just glide off my tongue like a whistle. Celina's eyes widen, only for a beat, and then she frowns, an offended look taking over her face, "I don't need a job." She scoffs, rolling those pretty olive eyes that seem to have a yellow touch to them, making it look like gold. "No," I frown back. "It's a different proposition. An opportunity, if you will." I nod to behind her, and she stares at me with intrigue and wariness that dances on the line of borderline mistrust. she stares for another moment before her shoulders slump, and she steps back, nodding her head for me to come inside.

I refrain from smiling as I enter her pretty little home, and pretty it definitely is. Everything is modern, yet colorful in the best possible way, and I just stare agape at how pretty the inside was compared to the outside. It's at least five times better.

"You have a lovely home," My compliment is honest. "Yeah, right." Celina murmurs, "It's probably nothing compared to your estate home." She sighs, but there's no resentment. There's no jealousy or anger in her voice. Turning to look at her, I find a small smile on her face, "Did you design your interior yourself?" I ask, and a beautiful rosy color creeps along her cheeks as she nods, biting the side of her bottom lip. I smile at her, unable to stop myself as a proud flower blooms inside of my chest.

My blank home could use her touch of color.

"So..." She squares her shoulders, lifting her chin, "What is the proposition you spoke of?" She walks over to her couch, and puts the pizza box down next to her cup of coffee. "I want to propose a plan for revenge." Because that's all I can come up with, and it just so happens to be something I'm very good at. "Revenge?" she looks at me with surprise, "For what he did." The little smile she did offer me if gone within a beat, replaced with anger, "I want nothing to do with him." I can't help but smile at that. "You won't have anything to do with him." That only confuses her more. "You'll be having everything to do with me, as my fake girlfriend of course, bringing me lunch, coming with me to press conferences, dinners, public dinners that will be photographed, and well...that will set him over the edge with jealousy, or rage, or fear." I can't help but smile at the idea of Sean squirming.

Celina shakes her head, "No," Her eyes roll, her body turning halfway as if she was about to walk away from me, but then she turns back, "Why would you offer me this? What will you get out of it?" I wanted to tell her that I'd make her fall in love with me, give her time to adjust to my life that will be her new one, but with her state...I just know she'd refuse upright.

"It will get people off my back and girls off my lap. Think about it," I shrug, "And if you accept, we'll talk more tomorrow."

I can't read her eyes. I can't tell if she'll accept or decline, but I'm really hoping for the former.

"And if I don't accept?" She asks with an innocent head tilt. I smile at her even though my gut knots in an unimaginable pain, "Then I guess I'll see you around." I don't give her the time to decline my offer, because I murmur a, "Goodnight, Celina." And leave before I get physically sick from the thought of her declining and do something I'd regret.