Owned by the CEO

Shadows and Secrets

♥ Chloe ♥

By the time I stepped into my apartment, my legs felt like lead. The gala had been flawless, or as flawless as I could make it. No disasters, no security breaches, no uninvited guests slipping through the cracks. And yet, even hours later, my mind was still buzzing with every detail. The way Jethro’s eyes had swept over the room, sharp and calculating. The way he had nodded at me, just once, when everything was in place. And the way Juliette had appeared. Wrapped in scarlet silk, her arm draped through his like she owned him. I kicked off my heels and sank onto the edge of my bed as I dropped my bag beside me. I should have gone to sleep. Every muscle in my body screamed for rest. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Jethro Jotham. The man who kissed me one night and assigned me to run his billion-dollar event the next. The man who left me reeling without even trying. With a frustrated groan, I reached for my tablet. If I couldn’t quiet my thoughts, maybe I could drown them in information instead. The search bar blinked back at me from the glowing screen.

Jethro Jotham.

I hit enter, and pages of results appeared in seconds.

The Sovereign Tribune had an entire section dedicated to him: “The Ice King of Velmora City: Everything You Need to Know.”

I scrolled past the flashy headlines.

“Jotham’s Empire: From Tech to Luxury Real Estate”

“Who is Jethro Jotham? The Mysterious Billionaire Everyone Wants to Know”

“Five Years of Jethro and Juliette: Power Couple or PR Arrangement?”

That one made me pause. Five years. I clicked it open and skimmed the article. Juliette Langdon, heiress to Langdon Pharmaceuticals, had been publicly linked to Jethro for half a decade. The tabloids loved them, a cold, untouchable tycoon and his elegant, perfectly poised companion. But there was no mention of engagement. No rumors of weddings or future plans. Strange. I closed the tab and kept scrolling until another headline caught my eye.

“Tragedy Strikes the Jotham Family: Miranda and Blake Lost at Sea”

I froze. The article dated back three years. Miranda and Blake Jotham, Jethro and Mandy’s parents, had been sailing off the coast of the Indigo Isles when a sudden storm hit. The yacht was found capsized two days later. No survivors. My chest tightened as I read. Jethro had taken over Sovereign immediately after their deaths, solidifying control of the company during what must have been the darkest time of his life. Mandy, I realized, had only been in college then. The thought of her, so young, losing both parents, made my throat ache. I decided to search for Mandy’s name next.

Mandy Jotham.

Her social media accounts popped up instantly. The first photo I saw was of her laughing on a sunlit balcony, her wild, light brown hair tumbling around her face. Her captions were full of emojis and warmth, nothing like her brother’s cold, calculated demeanor.

“Graduation day 🎓✨ Next stop: joining big brother at Sovereign as a designer. He doesn’t know what he’s in for. 😈”

I smiled faintly at the screen. The more I read, the more it hit me how different they were. Mandy was vibrant, open, and easy to read. Jethro was the opposite. Every public photo of him showed the same expression: unreadable. His posture was always perfect, his gaze sharp, his mouth a flat line. Even the paparazzi shots, candid’s of him leaving high-end restaurants or stepping out of black cars, didn’t crack the mask. But I had seen a flicker of something beneath that mask. The night he had kissed me. I shoved the thought aside and forced myself back to the screen. The gossip sites were even worse.

“Velmora’s Most Eligible Bachelor?”

“Inside Jotham’s Inner Circle: Who Really Knows Him?”

“Is Juliette Langdon the Future Mrs. Jotham?”

The comments section was vicious, filled with speculation about his wealth, his private life, and even his parents’ accident. I shut the page before I could spiral. This wasn’t helping. If anything, it made Jethro more of a puzzle. A man with the world at his feet. A sister he clearly protected. A partner who didn’t seem to hold his heart. And yet, behind all of it, a man who stood in a penthouse and kissed me like he had been holding back for years. I set the tablet down and pressed my palms over my face. What was I doing? I couldn’t fall down this rabbit hole. He was my boss. This wasn’t some story where the assistant melts the CEO’s icy heart. Except it didn’t feel like he had a heart to melt. It felt like he had buried it years ago, under board meetings, power plays, and glass walls. And I was terrified to admit I wanted to find it.

“Enough,” I muttered to myself as I finally stood up and got undressed. Once I was in something much more comfortable, I headed straight for the kitchen. I had been far too stressed out to eat, and I was hungry. I grabbed a tub of my favorite cream cheese and a box of crackers before I made myself comfortable on the couch. I switched on the TV and channel-hopped until I saw the gala being aired. I smiled despite the nervous tension that coiled in my stomach.

“Good evening…glitz, glamour, and a touch of magic lit up the night as the city’s elite gathered for the highly anticipated Sovereign Heights Gala, held at the penthouse of none other than Jethro Jotham. The black-tie affair, hosted under a canopy of crystal chandeliers and golden roses, was nothing short of breathtaking. Guests were treated to a five-course gourmet dinner, live classical performances, and a surprise appearance by international jazz sensation Kim Lou. Organizers say the gala raised over 12 million in support of youth arts programs across Velmora, far surpassing their fundraising goal. The guest list included celebrities, philanthropists, and business leaders, all praising the event’s elegance and flawless execution,” the reporter smiled, and I shivered. It had been as spectacular as she had just described. “It was a night to remember…an evening where generosity met grandeur, and a community came together in style for a worthy cause,” I flipped the channel. I hadn’t been the one to tell the selected reporters anything. Had it been Sara who had revealed the grand amount the event had raised? Or had it been Jethro himself?

“f**k that,” I muttered as I found a comedy to watch instead. I spread cream cheese all over the cracker before I shoved the entire thing in my mouth. Five-course meal, yes, but I had barely eaten. On top of my nerves, Jethro had kept looking at me. I swear I had felt his eyes on me more than anyone else. Or was that wishful thinking? I shook my head as I prepared another cracker. I wasn’t going to think about it. Not about the gala and certainly not about Jethro. Enough was enough. Right?

♥ ♥ ♥