All Chapters of Mr. CEO, Do you think I'm pretty too?: Chapter 11 - Chapter 17

CHAPTER TWELVE Bruce's smile widened as he caught sight of the spark of curiosity in Vivian's eyes. He always loved how eager she was to learn, how her enthusiasm for even the smallest things could light up her entire face. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place, her unquenchable thirst for knowledge and her genuine interest in the world around her. “Alright, I can’t tell you everything, you know. Classified and all that,” he teased, taking another sip of his drink as he leaned back in his chair, relaxing into the moment. “But I can give you a little sneak peek.” Vivian leaned in closer, her eyes wide and focused on him. She had always been fascinated by crime stories—the more twisted and complex, the better. It was a habit she picked up in college, spending countless nights glued to her laptop, watching documentaries and true crime series. Now, with Bruce right in front of her, a real-life detective with real-life cases, she was practically buzzing

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Four years later, he got what he wanted, but Vivian looked happier now…without him in her life. Bruce watched the clock closely, making sure not to miss a second. Finally, 8pm was here and he now leaned against his car, waiting for Vivian with a smile on his face. Sometimes he wondered if it were possible to turn back the hands of time, to do things a little differently. Just about the same time Vivian had left the office. 8pm sharp. On the other side of the city, near the waters edge where the docks were, a small group gathered. It was a desolate place with barely a living soul to be seen loitering, and other than the one singular street Lamp that casted a light over a group of men in tailored suits, the entire place was shrouded in a thick layer of darkness. And at the center of these men, one was kneeling, tied up, and bloody, barely on his last breath. In the shadows, one of the men remained obscured from the light. taking a slow drag of his cigar and the embe

DAMIEN’S POV While the agency was buzzing with preparations for the annual fashion show, I was miles away on the other side of the country, sitting in a sparsely lit room filled with some of the most powerful men in the underworld. Was I anxious? Hardly. If it were to be anyone else sitting in my position, I’m sure they would have been quacking in their leather boots. Not me though. If anything, I was calm and level headed. The gears in my head were already in motion as I drank in the presence of these men. As the heir to the Sullivan name, I needed to maintain my family’s raptor. The Cosa Nostra Demanded my presence. It was a rule set in stone. When the cosa nostra called, you answered, even if your wife were in labor. That’s how serious they were. Under normal circumstances, my father would have been the one here, but here we were. I gauged the setting, causally browsing over the men as though they were books at a library. To my left and right, were six of the most notorious men i