Chapter 3: Breaking Character, Breaking Rules

I tried to keep my voice steady, but the awkwardness was real. My cheeks were burning.

Of course, as a CEO in a novel, he has to save himself for the heroine!

He looked like he’d rather be mauled by a bear than let me touch him. Some things never change.

“Who?”

His confusion was so genuine, it caught me off guard. He blinked at me like I’d just spoken Klingon.

I looked at him, he looked at me. We both saw genuine confusion in each other’s eyes.

“Miss Elena Ramirez, the woman you brought home today.”

Ethan Morgan frowned and thought for a while. “Elena Ramirez? You mean that ditzy woman who spilled coffee all over me the first day we met?”

I nodded.

He didn’t seem convinced, but he let out a long sigh, like this was the final straw in a very long day.

Ethan looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Didn’t I tell HR to fire her?”

“That girl can’t even tell the difference between a copier and a shredder, and before the meeting, she shredded my contract! Why is she still here?”

Uh… the more I listened, the more speechless I got.

Honestly, in any other office, Elena would have been out the door before her coffee cooled.

But in an old-school CEO novel, it’s normal for the heroine to do all sorts of silly things.

It’s like the universe bends over backward to protect her, no matter how many disasters she causes.

Ethan kept talking as he tried to get out of bed, but the pain made him suck in a sharp breath, gritting his teeth:

“Ow. Riley! Pull my pants up!”

He sounded so desperate, I almost laughed. But I kept my face straight. Mostly.

“Do you want the bruise cream or not?”

After a moment of silence, I’m not sure if it was my imagination, but Ethan’s ears seemed to turn red. He held back for a while, and then his muffled voice came from the pillow:

“Yes.”

He sounded like a little kid admitting he needed help tying his shoes. It was almost endearing.

I rubbed my palms again. “Then brace yourself.”

To get rid of bruises, you have to use some pressure if you want to get rid of a bruise.

Ethan screamed like a stuck pig.

Elena suddenly pushed the door open. When she saw this scene, she looked like she’d just walked in on a crime scene.

Her hand holding the coffee cup trembled.

“You—what are you doing?”

“Stay away from him!”

She rushed to Ethan’s bedside and, without hesitation, slapped him across the face:

“I really shouldn’t have trusted rich guys like you. You said you liked me, but you were just playing games!”

Her handprint bloomed red on his cheek, and she looked on the verge of tears.

“People like you don’t know what respect is! You don’t deserve my love!”

With that, she ran out, her shoulders shaking with pain and helplessness.

Ethan covered his face, gritting his teeth. “Is that woman nuts?”

After I repeated three times, “You personally brought her home,” Ethan wore a look that said, ‘Am I the crazy one?’ and called his assistant and then the company’s vice president.

The verdict was—

Elena Ramirez, through her own efforts, had become his personal secretary, and their relationship was apparently ambiguous. Everyone in the company had seen it.

The VP even added, “Mr. Morgan, you said yourself, Miss Ramirez is very hardworking, and you admire hardworking people.”

Ethan was thunderstruck. After hanging up, he didn’t respond for a while. “I appreciate hardworking people, but how could I possibly appreciate someone so clueless?”

“Riley, did you know she can trip and fall even in flat shoes? Last time we went out to dinner with a client, she fell, then stood there cheering herself on.”

Elena, fists clenched, shouting slogans: ‘Elena, you can do it! It’s just a little stumble, it’s okay, nothing in the world can beat you. Go, Elena, you’re the best!’

Ethan mimicked her voice, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. The impression was spot-on.

Ethan has mastered the art of roasting people. Especially when he mimicked Elena in a soft voice, my toes curled so hard I could build a sandcastle with them.

I interrupted him, barely holding back my nausea. “Enough. I’m going to throw up.”