My CEO Next Door

When I returned from studying abroad, my childhood sweetheart had already become a billionaire tycoon, passionately involved with my lookalike stand in.

His mother came to me and said, Ten million dollars. Get back with my son.

I politely declined. Ma'am, you of all people should know. A proper lost love should remain like the dead, thoroughly buried.

"One hundred million. Do we have a deal?"

"Absolutely, ma'am! Customer satisfaction guaranteed!"

On the day I landed back in the country, my phone rang with a long lost number.

Looking at the caller ID, which I had saved as "Sugar Mama," I smiled and picked up. "Hello, Mrs. Montgomery."

Indeed, my ex boyfriend's mother was my biggest investor. She was the angel sponsor who had funded my entire education abroad.

"Sally, I will give you ten million dollars. Get back with my son."

"What are you talking about, Mrs. Montgomery? Oliver and I broke up three years ago. Besides, have you checked the market lately? Even inflation has driven up the price of basic goods."

"Thirty million. Just get rid of that little girlfriend of his."

"Ma'am, you of all people should know. A proper lost love should remain like the dead, thoroughly buried. How could I possibly interfere with their beautiful romance?"

Knowing my true colors, she went silent for a few seconds before gritting her teeth. "One hundred million. Do we have a deal?"

As expected of my primary investor, she was incredibly generous.

I agreed instantly. "Absolutely, ma'am. Customer satisfaction guaranteed."

Having secured my promise, she hung up immediately, as if spending another second talking to me would shorten her lifespan.

Two minutes later, my phone pinged with a bank alert. A deposit of thirty million dollars had cleared.

What a wonderful loyal client, so efficient with the upfront retainer.

I tapped on my account balance, beaming at the long string of zeros. It was absolutely beautiful.

Meanwhile, the massive screen at the airport terminal was broadcasting the entertainment news: [Montgomery Group's CEO Splashes Fifty Million on Luxury Mansion for Actress Giselle.]

I looked up and caught sight of a very familiar face.

Three years had passed, and Oliver had somehow grown even more handsome. The boyish softness had completely faded, replaced by the sharp, commanding aura of a mature man.

His features were colder and more defined than before, and that rare, gentle warmth only flickered in his eyes when he looked at the woman beside him.

Standing next to him was Giselle. Her striking, glamorous face bore at least a fifty percent resemblance to mine.

I could not help but chuckle.

So, Oliver, you resorted to the classic lookalike substitute trope too.

Three years ago, my parents died in a car crash. The family business collapsed, and I, barely an adult, was left an orphan, ruthlessly kicked out of my home by a pack of greedy relatives.

In the pouring rain, Oliver had held me tight against his chest. "Sally, do not be afraid," he had promised. "I will protect you."

I had clung to him, desperately soaking in his warmth.

Back then, he was too young. He had nothing to his name, nothing but a raw, honest heart.

And he had offered that heart to me on a silver platter.

But a pure heart is often the most fragile currency.

So, when his mother cornered me and slid a ten million dollar check across the table, demanding that I walk away, I barely hesitated before accepting.

The day I left, Oliver called me countless times, begging over and over.

"Sally, please do not go. I can take care of you, I swear! Please, do not leave me!"

For a guy who had always played the protective older brother figure, his voice cracked with tears for the very first time.

I comforted him gently, telling him to be a good boy, and then immediately blocked his number.

After sending my resume to the jewelry design firm under the Montgomery Group, I rented an apartment nearby. Then, I opened my laptop to catch up on everything that had happened over the last three years.

What I found blew my mind.

For the first two years, Oliver had fought his way through the corporate ranks. He went from a dismissed rookie to the undisputed, iron fisted CEO in record time.

My childhood sweetheart had transformed into a ruthless tycoon, even managing to strip his own mother of any real power in the company.

As for how he met Giselle, it was a classic, melodramatic story.

A year ago, before Giselle hit the big time, she was tricked by a shady agent into attending an upscale cocktail party.

The agent wanted to trade her for favors, and some sleazy executive wanted a fresh young starlet. Clueless and vulnerable, Giselle became their prey.

Enter Oliver, who swooped in to play the hero, saving the damsel and effortlessly winning her heart.

Since then, the famously stoic and aloof CEO seemed possessed. He escorted Giselle to every high profile gala, throwing prime roles, sponsorships, and connections her way without an ounce of secrecy.

Though they had never officially confirmed their relationship, the public already treated them as an item.

"The billionaire and his starlet," I muttered, scrolling through fanfictions written by netizens. "Wow, these bloggers really know how to spin a tale."

Though exaggerated, most of the rumors held a grain of truth, aligning with the high society gossip everyone whispered about.

Take Giselle's background, for instance: an orphan who graduated from a second rate college but worked her way up from an extra to a leading lady. A truly inspiring rags to riches story.

Then there was Oliver's doting nature: buying her rare gems, designer gowns, and villas, while securing top directors for her projects.

And finally, the drama: Oliver's mother despised Giselle, prompting him to openly clash with his mother several times for his girlfriend's sake.

Reading all this, I finally understood why my loyal investor had contacted me the moment my plane touched down.

Back then, when Oliver merely wanted to stay with an orphaned heiress like me, his mother had treated me like dirt and paid me to disappear.

Now that he was actively defying her for a rising actress, she probably wanted to erase Giselle from the face of the earth.

I settled into my new place with the golden retriever puppy I had just bought from the pet store, stroking his fluffy head. "Cash! Cash! Who is a good boy?"

My phone rang, breaking the quiet.

"Miss Sally? Your resume has cleared our screening. When can you start working with us?"

"Tomorrow morning works perfectly."

Hanging up, I planted a kiss on the puppy's snout. "My lucky charm! Cash is really coming in!"

The next morning, I dressed in a sleek power suit and walked confidently into the Montgomery Group headquarters.

"Oh my gosh! Are you Sally?"

The second I stepped into the design department, a girl with a bouncy ponytail rushed over, her eyes sparkling. "I am Sophie! I am absolutely obsessed with your work! Especially the Rose Sonnets collection! I cannot believe I get to work with you! I am screaming!"

I smiled. "Thank you. That collection is my personal favorite too."

After all, the muse behind the Rose Sonnets was none other than Oliver.

Sophie was incredibly warm, immediately filling me in on the office dynamics and the juicy workplace gossip.

Slowly, I began to adjust to my new environment.

Two days later, Sophie rushed back to my desk, whispering frantically, "Did you hear? The big boss is coming down for an inspection this morning!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Which big boss?"

"Mr. Montgomery! Word has it he is bringing his little actress girlfriend along too."

Oliver and Giselle?

Hearing this, I grabbed my makeup bag and headed straight for the restroom.

I thought it would take a while to cross paths with Oliver, but the opportunity had presented itself on a silver platter.

When meeting an ex, one must never lose the battle of style.

As the news of Oliver's arrival spread, the entire floor buzzed with nervous energy.

But the moment the department head led a striking man and woman out of the elevator, the room fell dead silent.

Oliver held Giselle's hand, their fingers tightly intertwined, projecting an undeniable aura of intimacy.

Sophie nudged my back. "Hey, don't just stand there! The manager wants the design team in the conference room!"

Snapping out of it, I followed her inside.

Oliver sat at the head of the table, his posture immaculate, the sharp lines of his tailored suit accentuating his commanding presence.

As we walked in, his gaze drifted toward the door. When our eyes met, I wondered what his reaction would be.

Instead, he merely spared me a cold, indifferent glance before looking away.

It was as if he were looking at a complete stranger.

A sudden pang of bitterness flared in my chest. Suppressing the feeling, I took a seat.

Our department head bowed politely. "Mr. Montgomery, Miss Giselle, the design team is all here."

Oliver arched an eyebrow at Giselle. "Take your pick."

Giselle turned to us with a radiant smile. "Sorry to bother you all. Oliver insisted on having a custom piece designed for our anniversary, so I will be relying on your talents."

What a lovely public display of affection.

"Ugh, the stench of romance is suffocating," Sophie muttered in my ear. "Wait, is it just me, or do you and his girlfriend look strikingly similar? Am I seeing things?"

Before I could answer, Giselle spoke up. "I heard that Sally recently joined the team. May I meet her?"

Under the collective gaze of the room, I stepped forward with a polite smile. "Hello. I'm Sally."

Giselle looked at me, her eyes widening in mock surprise. "I adore your work! I didn't realize we not only share the same taste but also look so much alike!"

A provocation? It certainly felt like one.

I had not expected Oliver's little actress to be so bold.

But that was fine, I was not exactly a saint either.

"Yes, and I'm equally surprised," I said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Meeting Oliver's burning gaze, I smiled. "Three years later, and your taste hasn't changed a bit, Mr. Montgomery. No matter how much you shop around, you always end up choosing the same model."

Giselle's smile faltered.

Oliver stiffened, his dark eyes locking onto mine, filled with mock hostility. "Well, unlike some people, I don't change my mind like the weather, heartless and cruel."

The surrounding colleagues began to sense the underlying tension, exchanging looks as their inner gossip mongers practically screamed with excitement.

"You certainly have a sense of humor, Sally."

Eager to cut the conversation short, Giselle stepped between us, blocking Oliver's view.

She forced a tight smile. "Then it's settled! I'll leave Oliver's anniversary gift in your capable hands!"

She emphasized the words anniversary gift heavily, as if to remind me of her secure position.

Too bad for her, I did not feel provoked in the slightest.

"My pleasure," I replied coolly. "Just remember to wire the thirty percent retainer first."

Business was business. If she wanted my expertise, she had to play by my rules, and the boss's girlfriend was no exception.

The conference room went dead silent.

Our balding department head shot me a look of pure horror.

I could practically read the words written across his forehead: Are you insane?

Oliver stood up, his towering figure casting a heavy shadow over the room. He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Don't worry. You'll get your money."

With that parting shot, he turned on his heel and strode out.

The department head sighed heavily, turning to me. "Sally, what did you see in Mr. Montgomery's departure?"

I played dumb. "That he is tall and handsome?"

"Wrong! You saw a man ready to murder someone!" the manager barked in frustration. "A golden opportunity was handed to you, and you threw it right back in his face!"

As the manager stormed off, my coworkers cast pitying or mocking glances my way.

Only Sophie looked genuinely worried. "Sally, being honest isn't a crime, but in corporate life, you need to watch your back."

"Me?" I pointed to myself, amused. "Oh, don't worry about me. I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve."

Before Sophie could reply, my phone vibrated on the desk, displaying an unknown number.

I offered an apologetic smile and stepped away to answer.

A man's voice spoke. "Miss Sally, I'm Mr. Montgomery's assistant. The boss would like a word with you."

I scoffed. "Are billionaires always this arrogant? Can't even make his own phone calls?"

Silence stretched on the other end.

Two seconds later, a familiar, gravelly voice cut through the receiver, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "Sally, if you want your retainer, take me off your block list."

I tapped my forehead, realizing I had completely forgotten about that.

Come to think of it, Oliver's number and social media profile had been sitting in my blocked contacts for three whole years. It was high time to let him breathe.

As soon as I unblocked him, I looked up to see Sophie staring at me with pure curiosity.

"Was that the boss? I've been dying to ask, what is the history between you two?"

I closed my eyes and summarized it in three words: "My ex. We loved."

Sophie's jaw dropped so low it could have hit the floor.

That evening, while I was out walking Cash, my phone buzzed with a bank transfer.

I tapped it. A new message sat at the top of my chat screen, sent from a contact labeled simply with the letter O.

His deep blue profile picture looked vaguely familiar, stirring up distant, hazy memories.

That summer had been incredibly hot. I had been obsessed with a melancholy love song about star crossed lovers.

I used to walk around with my headphones on, humming about how a bird and a fish falling in love was just a beautiful tragedy, while frantically sketching ocean views on my tablet.

Whenever I was buried in my work, chewing on the end of my stylus, Oliver would come over to pester me.

Back then, I still had some baby fat on my cheeks, and he loved to pinch them. "Do you really love the ocean that much? I will buy you an island one day so you can look at it every single second."

I would glare at him. "How many times do I have to tell you? Hands off the face!"

The boyish teenager would grin, looking absolutely smitten. "But you're so chubby, like a cute little woodchuck."

That wasn't exactly flattering.

In a fit of pique, I had sketched a drawing of a boy sitting alone on a deserted island, pointing to the figure to threaten him.

"Call me a woodchuck again, and I'll dump you on a deserted island!"

Pulling myself back to reality, I stared at the image on my screen.

Oliver was actually still using that very sketch as his profile picture.

But wasn't he terrified of deep water?

A sudden tug on the leash snapped me out of my thoughts. Cash barked twice toward a storefront, then looked back at me with big, pleading eyes.

I looked up to see the pet store where I usually bought his kibble and treats.

"You greedy little thing, you have an incredible memory," I laughed, stroking his head as he leaned into my hand, panting happily. "Lucky for you, your mama just came into some money. Come on, let's go on a shopping spree!"

Cash bolted forward, and I struggled with the leash, using my free hand to accept the transfer and send Oliver a playful sticker.

[Thanks, big boss!]

Since the responsibility of designing the gift for Oliver's girlfriend fell entirely on me, the department head generously granted me paid leave. I did not even have to come into the office, allowing me to focus on the project and communicate directly with Oliver.

I slept in until I woke up naturally, lounging on the couch and cuddling my puppy. Suddenly, a text alert chimed, showing a deposit of five million dollars.

I stared at the zeros in utter disbelief. Since when was my investor this generous?

Was she worried about my slow progress and sending a subtle financial push?

Nothing motivates quite like money. I propped my chin in my hand and typed out a message.

[Mr. Montgomery, are there any specific design elements your girlfriend prefers?]

Five minutes later.

Oliver: [Can't discuss this over text. Come to my office.]

Just what I wanted!

I bounded off the couch, picked out a stunning outfit, and applied some natural looking makeup.

When I walked into Oliver's office, he tried his absolute best to look professional, but I caught the sudden spark of warmth in his eyes the second I entered.

Oh, please. You're not fooling anyone.

His assistant escorted me in before quietly slipping out, closing the door behind him.

The massive office was left entirely to the two of us.

He was wearing a crisp black shirt today, buttoned all the way to the top, radiating an aura of cold restraint.

He looked incredibly handsome, and highly respectable.

Noticing my gaze, Oliver raised an eyebrow. "What are you looking at?"

I lied smoothly. "Just admiring how remarkably handsome and dignified you look, Mr. Montgomery."

He scoffed, a look of disapproval on his face. "Flirtatious."

I rolled my eyes. If you're so displeased, why are the corners of your mouth twitching upward?

I took out my tablet and showed him a few concept sketches.

"What kind of jewelry are we thinking? A bracelet or a ring is simple enough, we can just incorporate some meaningful symbols. A necklace would allow for more elaborate details."

Oliver, acting like a true tycoon, replied, "How about a full set?"

I flashed a professional smile. "Of course."

He spared me a cool glance, his long fingers tapping slowly on the mahogany desk. "Design it with the Rose Sonnets aesthetic in mind."

My smile vanished completely.

Staring at his calm expression, a sudden wave of anger surged in my chest.

"Absolutely not."

I gripped my tablet. "The Rose Sonnets collection belongs to my memories with my ex boyfriend. I doubt your girlfriend would appreciate her anniversary gift being a recycled memory of another woman."

"Is that so?" Oliver's voice dropped, his gaze turning dark and intense. "You seem to care quite a lot, Miss Sally. It sounds like you still hold deep feelings for your ex."

I nodded slowly. "Of course. After all, the dead cannot rise, and this collection is my only remaining tribute to him."

Oliver's smug smile froze instantly.

He stood up and walked toward me, his presence suddenly suffocatingly cold. "I had no idea I was no longer among the living."