Elisa Morrison stared at her phone screen, her heart sinking deeper with each swipe. The comments on her latest blog post were anything but forgiving.

"How could you abandon The CEO is My Lover?!"

"Do you know how much we loved that novel? Finish it, or else!"

"Worst author ever. You don’t care about your fans at all!"

She groaned, tossing her phone onto the couch. “I should’ve deleted that draft when I had the chance,” she muttered.

The problem was, Elisa hadn’t even thought about The CEO is My Lover in over a year. It was her first attempt at writing romance—a cringeworthy, cliché-laden mess about a cold CEO and a quirky coffee shop waitress. She’d abandoned it halfway through, embarrassed by how cheesy it was.

Now, for reasons beyond her understanding, it had blown up online. Thousands of fans were demanding updates, while others took joy in roasting her for leaving it unfinished.

“Why couldn’t they love my mystery series instead?” she mumbled, opening her laptop. But curiosity got the better of her, and soon, she was scrolling through the comments section again.

"The characters feel so real! Please, Elisa, give us an ending!"

"I swear, if you don’t finish this, I’ll… I’ll write it myself!"

"How dare you create such a perfect CEO and then leave us hanging?!"

Elisa burst into laughter at that last one. “Perfect CEO? Please. Even I couldn’t take him seriously.” She reached for her coffee mug, still giggling, when the liquid suddenly caught in her throat.

She coughed violently, her vision blurring. The next thing she knew, darkness swallowed her whole.

A sharp beam of sunlight woke her. Elisa groaned, shielding her eyes as a deep, unfamiliar voice spoke above her.

“Miss Taylor, are you all right?”

She blinked, slowly adjusting to the light. A man in a crisp navy suit crouched beside her, his dark hair perfectly styled, his jawline sharp enough to cut glass.

“Miss Taylor?” he repeated, his tone impatient.

Elisa’s heart froze. Miss Taylor? That wasn’t her name. And this man—his face looked disturbingly familiar.

“Wait a second…” she whispered, sitting up. Her surroundings came into focus: a sleek office, complete with floor-to-ceiling windows and a view of the city skyline. Her stomach dropped.

It couldn’t be.

“Mr. Carter is waiting,” the man said, standing. He adjusted his tie. “Don’t keep him waiting too long. You know how he gets.”

Elisa’s mouth went dry as the pieces clicked into place. The man standing before her wasn’t just anyone—he was Jake, the loyal assistant from her abandoned novel.

And if Jake was here, that could only mean one thing.

She had somehow woken up inside The CEO is My Lover....

Elisa sat frozen on the plush leather couch, her mind racing. This has to be a dream, she thought. A bad one. Any minute now, I’ll wake up in my tiny apartment, and everything will go back to normal.

But the harsh click of Jake’s shoes against the polished floor jolted her back to reality.

“Miss Taylor, are you coming?” Jake called from the doorway, his expression as composed as ever.

Elisa scrambled to her feet. Her hands were clammy, her heart thudding against her chest. She wasn’t just in any part of her novel—she was in the lion’s den. The office of the infamous Ethan Carter, the cold, brooding CEO she had created and abandoned halfway through her story.

Her knees wobbled as she followed Jake down the hall. This was the character readers had been gushing about nonstop, calling him “perfect” and “dreamy.” The truth? Ethan Carter was anything but. He was cold, controlling, and borderline impossible. She’d made him that way on purpose—a caricature of every overused CEO trope.

And now she was about to meet him.

Jake stopped in front of a massive wooden door, the name Ethan Carter etched in bold, silver letters. Without hesitation, he pushed it open and gestured for her to step inside.

“Elisa Taylor,” Jake announced formally, his voice echoing in the vast office.

Elisa barely registered the name. Her eyes were locked on the man standing by the window, his back to her. He was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a sleek black suit that probably cost more than her rent for a year.

He turned slowly, and Elisa sucked in a breath.

Ethan Carter was even more intimidating in person. His sharp blue eyes seemed to pierce through her, his chiseled features set in a perpetual frown.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

Elisa’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She couldn’t even process what was happening. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to be her—the coffee shop waitress turned fake girlfriend turned… what was it again? Oh right, his fiancée.

“I… I....uh…” she stammered, her brain short-circuiting.

Ethan’s gaze narrowed. “Do you think I have time to wait around while you daydream?”

Her spine straightened instinctively. “I wasn’t—”

“You weren’t thinking at all,” he interrupted, his tone icy. He walked toward his desk, each step deliberate. “Miss Taylor, let me remind you of your role here. You’re here to support me, not waste my time. Understood?”

Elisa blinked, stunned. Oh, my God. He’s even worse than I wrote him.

Her pride kicked in before she could stop herself. “I’m not a mind reader, Mr. Carter. If you want something, maybe you should try being less vague about it.”

Jake, who was still standing by the door, visibly winced.

Ethan’s eyebrows shot up, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Interesting,” he murmured. “I wasn’t aware you had a backbone.”

Elisa’s face flushed, but she bit her tongue. What was she supposed to do? Argue with her own fictional character? That will be insane..

Before she could respond, Ethan leaned against his desk, crossing his arms. “We’re done here. Jake, take her back to her office. And Miss Taylor?”

She looked up, her breath catching.

“Don’t test me again,” he said, his voice dripping with warning.

Elisa’s stomach sank as Jake motioned for her to follow him out. She felt the weight of Ethan’s gaze on her back until the door clicked shut behind her.

“What just happened?” she whispered to herself as they walked down the hallway.

Jake cleared his throat. “Mr. Carter can be… intense. But you’ve handled worse, haven’t you?”

Handled worse? Elisa wanted to laugh. She had written this entire world, but now it felt like she was the one completely out of control.

And if this was only the beginning, how on earth was she going to survive the rest of the story?

Elisa slumped into the chair at her new “office.” It was a cozy but modest space tucked into the corner of Carter Enterprises, filled with neatly stacked paperwork, a sleek laptop, and a coffee cup engraved with “Miss Taylor.”

The problem was… none of it felt like hers.

“Miss Taylor, here are today’s files,” Jake said, placing a thick folder on her desk with a polite smile. “Your first meeting with Mr. Carter starts in an hour.”

“Wait, meeting? What meeting?” Elisa asked, her voice rising in panic.

Jake gave her a strange look. “The charity gala planning. You’ve been handling it for weeks. It’s crucial for Mr. Carter’s public image.”

Elisa’s mind raced. Weeks? Oh, right, the gala! I wrote that subplot to force the CEO and the heroine to spend more time together.

“Of course,” she lied, forcing a weak smile. “I’m on it.”

As Jake left, she buried her face in her hands. “Why did I ever write this mess?” she muttered.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. To her surprise, it wasn’t a work notification—it was a group chat titled The Dream Team.

[Chat Conversation]

Lila: Elisa, how’s the dragon today?

Amber: Bet he already snapped at her before 10 a.m.

Elisa: You could say that.

Lila: Hang in there! By the way, you’re still coming to karaoke tonight, right?

Amber: Don’t flake again, or we’re kidnapping you.

Elisa’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. The names felt familiar—too familiar. Then it hit her: these were side characters from the novel. Lila and Amber were supposed to be the heroine’s quirky, supportive best friends.

At least I didn’t make everyone in this world insufferable, she thought, typing a quick response: I’ll try my best. Work’s a little crazy right now.

Just as she set her phone down, another notification popped up. This one made her heart sink.

Meeting Reminder: 10:00 AM – Ethan Carter and Elisa Taylor.

---

Forty-five minutes later, Elisa found herself in a sleek conference room, seated across from Ethan. He was reviewing documents with the intensity of a surgeon, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Elisa tried to focus on her own copy of the agenda, but her eyes kept drifting to him. How had she managed to create someone so aggravatingly perfect on the outside and so impossibly difficult on the inside?

“Miss Taylor,” Ethan’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Yes?” she blurted, sitting up straight.

“I asked for your input on the guest list,” he said, his tone clipped.

She blinked down at the paper in front of her. Names swam before her eyes. She hadn’t written this part in detail—she’d just skimmed over it in the novel.

“Well, uh…” She cleared her throat, stalling for time. “I think… we should focus on inviting high-profile donors who align with the company’s values.”

Ethan’s gaze sharpened. “And which values are those, exactly?”

Elisa’s brain went blank. Why does he have to ask so many questions?!

“Integrity,” she said finally. “And, um, innovation. Growth?”

Ethan leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Safe answers,” he said. “But predictable.”

Elisa bit the inside of her cheek. He wasn’t wrong, but did he have to be so smug about it?

Before she could respond, Jake entered the room with a phone in hand. “Mr. Carter, a call from the London office,” he said.

Ethan rose smoothly from his seat, his eyes flicking to Elisa one last time. “We’ll continue this later,” he said, his voice low.

As soon as he was gone, Elisa slumped in her chair, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“This is going to be impossible,” she whispered.

But deep down, a small voice reminded her: impossible or not, she had written this story. And if anyone could navigate it, it was her.