The morning began peacefully—
well, as peaceful as it gets when Andrea and the CEO breathe the same air.
They both freshened up, ate breakfast, and prepared to leave.
But just as Andrea moved to join the CEO, his mother raised a hand dramatically.
"Wait. She's not going with you."
The CEO stopped mid-step.
Andrea blinked.
"What? Why?!" he asked, looking genuinely offended for once.
Mother smirked.
"Because we have plans. Girl plans. And you're not invited."
The CEO was dismissed like an unwanted ad pop-up.
He looked at Andrea—
Andrea looked at him—
And then he stormed out with his cold, CEO walk of betrayal.
After breakfast, his mother linked arms with Andrea.
"Get ready. We're going shopping."
"Shopping? For what?"
"There's a wine banquet tonight."
"A wine banquet?"
"Yes," Mother said proudly.
"This city's wineries make the richest, most legendary wine. Dark ruby red, aged in cedar barrels, smooth like velvet and strong enough to make grown men confess their sins. One sip can warm your chest for hours."
Andrea's eyes widened.
Mother smirked.
"Ever had wine?"
"No…"
"Good. You'll enjoy tonight then."
They shopped for hours—
laughing, trying dresses, gossiping like old friends.
They ended the afternoon with a luxurious lunch, the kind with dishes so pretty Andrea felt guilty eating them.
"My dear," the mother said, watching her eat happily,
"your dress is so beautiful… everyone will stare at you tonight."
Andrea's cheeks warmed with pride.
Back home, preparations began.
Everyone was dressed and waiting in the living room—
The father, the mother, and the CEO himself.
He was in a black suit tailored to perfection, sitting with crossed legs, scrolling through his phone like a man who definitely wasn't waiting impatiently for someone.
Then—
Andrea stepped onto the staircase.
And the world…
just…
stopped.
A deep midnight blue gown clung to her curves like liquid satin.
A high slit up her left leg revealed smooth skin with every step.
The back was open—completely—held only by two delicate diamond straps.
Her collarbones glowed under the warm lights,
and her hair was styled in soft waves,
her lips a glossy cherry red.
Elegant.
Beautiful.
Dangerous.
A walking heart attack.
The CEO's hand froze mid-scroll.
His eyes rose.
Locked on her.
Didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
Andrea descended slowly, heels tapping softly, the slit swaying with every step.
The CEO remembered—
her smile from yesterday,
her laughter with his mother today,
her warmth in the morning.
And suddenly his ears turned red.
Then his neck.
Then the tips of his cheeks.
He swallowed.
Hard.
Mother whispered to father,
"Look at him… completely gone."
Andrea stopped in front of the family.
The CEO still hadn't recovered.
She waved a hand.
"…Hello?"
No reaction.
She waved again.
"HEL-LO??"
He finally snapped out of it, straightened his suit, cleared his throat, and looked away like she hadn't just reorganized his entire bloodstream.
"You… look fine."
Mother slapped his arm.
"Fine? She looks breathtaking!"
The CEO avoided eye contact, ears still glowing red.
Andrea smirked.
Got him.
The banquet hall sparkled like a galaxy—
crystal chandeliers, soft classical music, and hundreds of people dressed like walking luxury runway.
Andrea walked in with the CEO and his parents, and every pair of eyes in the room turned.
Whispers followed her like perfume.
"Who is she?"
"Look at her dress—my God."
"She's stunning."
The CEO walked beside her stiffly, jaw clenched, pretending he didn't hear anything…
but he definitely heard EVERYTHING.
As the head of the family business, the CEO greeted some important investors.
Andrea stood beside him, trying to look serious.
An elderly businesswoman smiled at her warmly.
"My dear, you look gorgeous tonight."
Andrea bowed slightly. "Thank you, ma'am."
Another man, holding a wine glass, chuckled.
"You must be his girlfriend?"
Andrea nearly choked.
The CEO coughed violently and snapped,
"No."
"Absolutely not," Andrea added, waving her hands.
Everyone laughed politely.
Mother slipped a glass into Andrea's hand.
"It's sweet wine, not too strong. Just sip."
But Andrea…
Andrea didn't sip.
She gulped.
Then grabbed another glass from a passing waiter.
And another.
And a fourth.
The CEO caught her wrist on the fifth.
"What are you doing?"
"It's jusht juice," Andrea slurred.
"That's NOT juice."
"It's like grape juicehh… fancy one… so tasty…"
"Andrea, stop drinking—"
She ignored him and downed half the glass.
The CEO shut his eyes.
This girl was going to end his life.
A flashy young entrepreneur approached Andrea with an oily smile.
"Oh wow, miss… you are absolutely ravishing tonight."
Andrea blinked drunkenly.
"Huh? Thanks… I guess?"
He stepped closer—too close.
"You look a little unsteady. Want me to help you sit? Or maybe take you outside for some fresh air?"
His fingers brushed her arm.
That was the last straw.
The CEO moved so fast even Andrea's drunk brain registered it.
He gripped the guy's wrist tightly—
too tightly—
with a smile sharper than a knife.
"She's with me," he said calmly.
"But she said—"
"She. Is. With. Me."
The hall went silent for a moment.
Andrea hiccuped.
The man scoffed. "No need to be possessive, bro—"
The CEO leaned in.
"I'M NOT YOUR BRO."
The guy instantly backed off, massaging his wrist, muttering apologies as he fled.
Andrea stared at the CEO, swaying slightly.
"Why… why are you angry?"
"I'm not angry," he lied.
"You're… jealous," she mumbled, poking his chest.
He caught her hand.
Hard.
"Stop talking."
"You areeee jealous," Andrea singsonged, leaning forward like she was telling him a secret.
"Becauuuse he touched me."
His jaw flexed.
"I said stop talking."
She giggled.
Then hiccuped again.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Idiot. Come here."
With one arm around her waist, he pulled her close to steady her—
which only made the guests whisper EVEN MORE.
Andrea looked up at him, eyes sleepy and glossy.
"You're warm…" she murmured.
He froze.
"Stop. Talking."
The banquet was in full swing—music soft, lights warm, people fake-smiling like their lives depended on it. The CEO stood with a calm expression, but inside?
A volcano.
Because Andrea—his Andrea—was giggling, swaying, and dangerously close to spilling wine on a millionaire's shoes.
"Andrea," he hissed under his breath, grabbing her elbow before she toppled again.
"Stop wandering."
She poked his chest.
"I am not wandering. I am… floating."
He clenched his jaw.
"You're drunk."
She gasped dramatically.
"Noooo. I'm perfectly fine. Look—look—"
She tried to stand straight…
…then leaned sideways like a falling building.
He caught her by the waist.
She blinked up at him with big glossy eyes.
"You're warm…" she whispered.
His heart did a full Olympic flip.
"That's because you can't stand on your own."
Before she could answer, a man—some smug heir from the wine company—walked toward them.
"Is she okay? I can help her to a seat," he offered, reaching for Andrea's arm.
The CEO didn't hesitate.
His hand shot out, gripping Andrea tighter, pulling her into his side.
"She doesn't need you," he said, voice low, cold, territorial.
The man smirked. "Why? Who are you to her?"
Before the CEO could answer—
Andrea looked up at him, smiling like he was her favorite cartoon character.
"He…" she said, poking the CEO's cheek now, "…makes my heart flutter."
The CEO froze.
The man stared.
Andrea continued, completely unaware she was destroying a billionaire's sanity:
"Like—my heart does dhoom dhoom when he looks at me."
She placed her hand over her chest dramatically.
"It's very annoying. Tell him to stop."
The CEO's soul left his body.
The smug heir choked on air.
Andrea leaned closer to the CEO's ear and whispered loudly,
"And he looks very handsome today. I hate it."
The CEO forgot how to breathe.
He grabbed her wrist instantly.
"We're leaving."
"Nooo, I didn't even try the peach wine," she protested.
"You're never touching wine again," he growled.
He lifted her effortlessly, one arm under her legs, one supporting her back.
Princess carry.
Entire hall staring.
Whispers everywhere.
Andrea blinked up at him, half-asleep now.
"Why're you so warm…?" she murmured, fingers brushing his jaw.