Firstly, Thank you so so so much for all your support. Trust me it means a world to me.💜

As an aspiring writer I am, I believe you all know that your likes, comments and support have always supported me.

Writing a novel had been very challenging to me and editing it…I would in my honest opinion say— sucked. Though I still don’t know how some of you have managed to read the unedited raw drafted version of my novel, trust me when I read it—it sucked.

CEO’s obsessed with me! Is my very first completed work. In the beginning, to be true I hadn’t planned it; it was like I was going with the flow of my characters— what are they like? What would they do? And what would the outcome be?

I just kept on creating all the possible scenarios and all the possible outcomes and wrote what suited them the best. And through this whole I learnt…I’m the supreme god of their world—no kidding. I actually learnt patience…that not only my characters needed but I too needed in order to move forward.

Hope you like this new edited version of my novel. Don’t forget to show your support and non-support (critiques are also welcomed) down below in the comment section.

Till then enjoy.

 P.S I don’t know if you have read the previous version of my novel; I have added a few scenes including the addition of one whole new chapter. So, I would prefer you re-read it. Just my preference. I would still love and thank you for reading my work though.

P.S I added a few lines to the end.

P.S Not a click bait.

Love ya💜

“1. Party A and B both agree to keep the truth about this relationship a secret from their family.

2.Party B agrees to attend every occasion that Party A wants and to act accordingly.

3.Party A is not allowed to be physically intimate with party B nor in public or private. Only light hugs and forehead kisses are allowed.

4.Party A is not allowed to interfere in Party B's professional life.

5.No Party is allowed to date or show any inappropriate behavior with opposite s*x, until the contract terminates.

6.The contract is valid for a span of a year, before that no party is allowed to break the contract. In doing so that party has to pay 50,000$ as penalty.

7.Party A and B now agree to be legally husband and wife.”

"I, Ryan Scott, agree to be your contracted husband." he offered his hand for a shake, with a challenging lift in his brows.

Ignoring his hand as well as the deadly glare, I replied " I also agree ".

"Not like this, Ms. Bell "he smirked.

"I, Rose Bell agree to be Mr.Scott's contracted wife "

The last four days have proven to be hell on earth for me. It looked like all my karma had betrayed me into his trap, and I was struck with no other option to rely on.

Guess what, it's going to be worse.

But before jumping into any conclusions about the future, let me give you the clear details of my past. Not my past, but the past that got me here.

It was May 27th, the sky was clear, and weather in California more promising than any of the communist members.

I grabbed my Identity Card and got out of my tidy yet untidy room. Bidding my farewell to bestie Jane, who had been with me since the beginning of college freshman year, I was about to take my leave. She was sitting on the couch streaming ‘To All the boys,’ on Netflix when I whispered in her ear "the food is prepared, in the refrigerator. Eat it after microwaving. I gotta go ".

She passed me an okay smile, still fixing her dirty gaze on Peter (who happens to be the lead), asked me to call her later. Taking my side bag, I rushed to get out of my two room apartment.

I had been the assistant director of the publication management department of my company, Zero publications (well they are quite popular and have published countless novels, magazines, blogs and other stuffs— not quite matching the name)

And after writing and editing articles and journals and reports for three years. Now, my department wanted me to take an interview, to be published in their upcoming magazine.

It was going to be my first interview and my target was one of the youngest and richest CEOs in The United States. I grabbed a taxi and started reviewing his profile.

Name - Ryan Scott

Age -28

Height - 185cm

Weight - 75 kg

Position - Chief Executive officer (CEO), Scott Mansions.

Interests - Sports, music, business, success, money

Relationship status - unknown

Net worth - 2.5 billion

Though I have read this profile like a thousand times, the nervousness made me repeat it a time more .I reviewed the questions to be asked and started preparing them, for like they were the bible verses that I needed to be through in the church.

As I reached the Scott Mansions, reception. I was taken to his office by one of his lady employees or to better say, his secretary,Mia.

She knocked the door and a second later, a voice raspy male baritone allowed our entry inside.

Inhaling a deep chunk of air, I pushed my legs inside, and the first thing that came to my mind was Holy Jesus, he is f*cking hot.

Well, not quite a professional response, the fact was true though.

He looked nothing like the youngest CEOs (I had an image of a young boyish looking face, holding on the authority, back packed with some intelligent family background and authority). But he looked quite mature, not by the looks but by the vibes, more to say the aura, that his expression was exhibiting.

He wore a navy blue coat over the white shirt and blue necktie covered the best part of his chest.

The shoulders were broad and legs hid behind the desk that felt like I had underestimated until he stretched them out to stand. They were long, extremely long, making me feel insufficient. His lips, (that felt smooth and maybe soft) lit into a professional smile, as he pushed a hand forward, while giving his intro (as if he even needed to do that.) Work, work I repeated in my mind to distract.

Being 28 myself and that too single, you couldn’t really blame me for my over flowing erotic hormonal response. That was perfectly natural, (at least that is what I believed), until I was going to work on them and molest a guy (that isn’t a high possibility until— I was drunk).

He took me to the couch, after we had enough of our handshake and introduction.

We both sat down facing each other with his legs crossed and hands intertwined over the knee.

God! He looked so hot.

I again tried to calm my expression, not letting him know what I thought. I turned my recorder on and began the interview by introducing myself.

By the time the interview came to its end, I had already known his future plans about the company. I had skipped all the unrelated and personal questions which the company wanted me to ask.

Though I was the most curious to know but, first; I know that I had no chance with him —nor I ever wanted to have one and, second; I don't want to peek into someone else's personal life, —that's the work of an entertainment reporter and that's the reason why, I’m forbidden from stalking a celebrity.

"Thanks for your time" I smiled and called the interview over.

As I stood up from my seat, a confused look spread across his face as if he wasn’t satisfied with the interview and made it very clear when he spoke, “I guess you forget something”.

I looked around and started to search for the thing I lost. My side bag was with me, my phone resides inside it and even the recorder I had in my hand.

Till now the interview was fine, his rough but tamed seducing voice still echoed in my ears. And I thanked God for a heaven on earth. But who knows the thing I consider to be heaven could turn into hell .

Being unable to find the forgotten thing, I turned towards him with a frown.

“Oh it’s not anything, it's just….that you haven't asked about my relationship status" he said,with a smirk that well said, that ‘I know I'm an attractive man and I know everyone especially you would be interested in knowing so.’

"No, it's okay the interview was only work related, it was not designed to interfere in someone's personal life, so I'm not interested in that " I replied while giving a simple business smile, "Then I shall take my leave"

With that I started to move towards the entrance when he stopped me in the middle. The karma was about to strike, and that too without a clear warning.

“How about having dinner tonight, Miss Bell?” he smiled, then added, “if you don’t mind.”

Though he looked good, but “I'm sorry, I have to work”

I don't believe in love and relationships. It's like a dream that I have already left behind. Besides life ain’t a fairy tale but reality—it's the thing that scares me the most.

So, I refused as politely as I could, hoping for him to understand, and that’s where I went wrong. Cause with all the respect I had conjucted to form a reply was shattered through with his next sentence.

“Then how about spending a night together?” he gave a sneaky smile.

“Sorry?” my eyebrows automatically went up, with the sudden shock.

Men they are always the same, s*x is all they want. Well, the hook up culture doesn’t really fit me quite well, but before I could refuse, his guts kicked in (I wish they would have hit his balls— but guess it missed).

“I'll pay, how about a thousand dollars” he was still sitting with a totally calm face. As if I'm only a toy to him and that's the worst.

“A thousand dollars?” I repeated in shock. Was I just insulted? I tried to control my anger.

“Oh, it's less, how about a ten thousand, or a hundred thousand?” His voice which earlier seemed to be sweet, turned into a devilish one and his still calm expression, made me disgust more.

I can't handle it anymore.

I took a deep breath “ten dollars?”

“Do you think your worth is only ten dollars?” his calm expression changed into amusement while his lips curled into a smirk.

“No, it's your worth!... I'll pay you ten dollars... to leave me”

RYAN

 I asked her to enter while sitting at my desk. I tried to ignore her formal attire, high heels, sleek legs, and perfect hourglass figure. Being in a position like me I encounter women like her every other day. Her hairs were open, and a side bang covered her square face. She wore light lipstick with a little eyeliner on the top of her eyelash.

Doesn't seem pretentious.

 Not that I won’t admit, she was quite attractive—as I put it to some gentlemanly tone.

I pretended to stick my eyes on the computer screen when in reality, was eager to look into her mesmerizing gaze.

  She gave me an elegant smile before I took her to the couch.

 The interview began, and she started to ask me questions, about my plans, investment, shares, stock but didn't ask me a question out of that. Usually, all the interviews held are mostly aimed at my personal life more than the professional one— that’s juicier that’s what they say.

Though she seemed a little attracted to me, she didn’t show even quite a bit of interest in my personal life.

She looked confident at every question she asked, and seem to expect more of a serious business-related answer. An expression so calm and yet full of glory, seem to catch more of my attention. Making me regret All the years I've been fcking around*— as I put not very gentlemanly.

 I tried to answer every question she asked, the way she expected. The less she was interested in me, the more I became interested in her.

 And who says men aren’t attracted by the challenge. Her gaze flicked through some pages, in between the interview, and within seconds averted back to me. Never in the middle, her gaze lingered through my body. They were fixed— on my eyes. Challenging, like that of a tigress.

I don’t know if she was doing it purposely or was it her normal, cause if she trying to flirt even a little bit. It was hell working for me.

 By the time the interview came to an end, I had started to check her out, in detail. She wore a light blouse shirt matching with the dark shade of her pencil skirt. She looked way more attractive when sitting. I took a glance at her neck and the identity card on her chest caught my attention;

Name - Rose Bell (she already told me though)

 Age - 26

 Company – Zero publications

 Position - Assistant manager

 I repeated in my mind as if trying to memorize every bit of her information in my head. I asked her if she forgot something, but her surprised look, made me jump to the point. I couldn’t wait.

I asked if she could have dinner; that was very polite and she declined it with politeness only.

But the next one got a little freaky, I swear, that wasn’t my intention to spend a night. But something about her, something about her confident gaze, was telling me to explore. Explore her boundaries. And so I did.

 And god! The way she looked at me, astonished with disgusted. It’s like her ear went straight (could have if it was possible), her eyes even bolder. She didn’t look quite a fan of hookups— neither I was of the loveless s*x, But wasn’t still that of a saint.

 And I again played with her guard. And the result— She left me ten dollars on the desk, on her way out. Very brilliant of me!

I watched her moving into a taxi, from the glass wall of my office room.

 ROSE

 I got off the building, annoyed, and grabbed a taxi home. By the way, I even regretted leaving my 10 dollars for an idiot like him.

Seriously\, love is s*x\, and s*x is what all guys want\, so let all the handsome guys go to hell.

I repeated in my head as I finally reached home. Putting all my belongings down, I back hugged Jane who was still breaking her eye lenses over Netflix. Apparently, she had started the third series of ‘The All the Boys’ who didn’t go to hell.

 “You back,” she asked, still fixing her eyes on the television screen. I nodded and went back to my tidy yet untidy room.

After taking a cool shower, I finally e-mailed the details and recording of the interview to Mr. Shah, our department head (he looked like a big piggy).

Walking to the kitchen I took out a pre-made toast and ate it with some banana milk and since nothing else was left (besides cursing that CEO guy) I grabbed my laptop. Everyone has their pass times, some play games, some scroll through social media, some do nothing like laying on the couch binging Netflix (there are people other than Jane to think about)  while finishing the editing of some latest articles.

Not really something that I’m quite proud of though— my tendency to perfect every comma, sentence, and para wells me with anxiety to the core.

By the time I finished my work, it was already time for diner; which was nothing more than some well-cooked spaghetti with sauce ( that was the easiest to make, plus Jane liked it too)

I prepared dinner for both Jane and me; which was nothing more than some well-cooked spaghetti with sauce ( that was the easiest to make, plus Jane liked it too)— though Jane cooks better than me, according to the weekly division of our responsibilities, I was supposed to cook today.

While eating I told Jane a full descriptive view of today's scenario, which was the least she was interested in, she was way more interested in knowing about the CEO than about the interview.

I cleared all her doubts and then got to grab my pillow to sleep.

I had plans, unlike people who lay on the couch and do nothing on weekends (again, there are people more than Jane).

The next day I had to visit my grandpa, who was living as a heart patient in the city hospital.

He is in the last stage of it, sad? I know but he is the only one along with grandma whom I can call my family.

After my parent’s divorce, my mom remarried an Indian and settled there only while my father died in a car accident a year later. By the time I graduated high school, grandpa was detected to have some sort of cardiovascular disease and my grandma started spending her time visiting the hospital on a regular basis.

Every weekend I go to visit him, though my mom is still alive I rarely get a chance to talk to her plus it has now been two years since I met her.

It was eight in the morning as I walked to the bus stand and waited, waited for almost ten minutes for the bus to arrive. And as soon as it did, I grabbed one of the middle sites and switch on some Camilla Cabello songs to share my journey.

Nothing significant really happened till then— besides the fact the five-year-old sitting beside me was crying for ice cream, that her mom probably forgot to buy.

By the time I reached the hospital, forty minutes had already passed by. I walked inside the hospital building asked the receptionist for my grandpa "he is happy and fine " she smiled, as she always does. The same sentence she always says.

Then I took the lift and went straight to my grandpa's room. I slowly slid the door open (not wanting to disturb grandpa; in case he was sleeping) and to my surprise was welcomed by a male figure dressed in all black, sitting with his back to me, but face to grandpa.  I couldn't see his face.

Who was he? I wondered if I had some stepbrothers from my mom’s side— did my dad had an affair?

 Taking a step inside, I whispered “grandpa” stretching my arms for his warm bearly hug, when to my surprise no actually shock I heard a familiar voice.

“Oh...we met again, Miss Bell”. I froze.