Chapter 1

The new CEO, Claire Sullivan, parachuted in and fired me on her very first day.

The reason? She said I was just slacking off and not contributing anything.

I didn't even bother asking for my paycheck. I walked out like I didn't care.

After all, my family owned this company.

But when I pushed open the door, ready to start the chill life I always wanted, my jaw dropped.

The sound of water running in the bathroom and those bold red heels in the entryway made clear that something crazy was going on.

The ice queen CEO who fired me was actually living in my place.

*****

"Employee number 0713, Ethan Carter, you're fired," Claire said.

The air conditioning in the conference room was blasting.

Claire stood there in a designer suit, flawless makeup, and an aura so powerful that one couldn't even look her in the eye. Her gaze was icy, completely devoid of warmth.

She was Claire, the new CEO who had just parachuted into our company.

True to her name, Claire was like a block of ice that never melted.

Her first order of business on day one? She fired me.

My coworkers gave me all kinds of looks; some pitied me, others looked like they couldn't wait to see me kicked out.

I was the guy everyone called a couch potato. I clocked in right on the dot, was always the first to leave, and my main duties were swapping out the water cooler and running errands for everyone else.

Honestly, getting fired was pretty much expected.

Claire gestured with her slender fingers, sliding a file across the table toward me.

"Based on your attendance and performance over the past year, you've actually been a drain on the company. We don't keep dead weight," Claire said, her voice as cold as her expression.

I glanced at the file, a whole list of my crimes, and nearly laughed out loud.

Negative contribution?

Yeah, maybe.

My dad made me work at our family company, claiming it would give me a taste of real life and toughen me up.

But honestly, it didn't toughen me up at all. My biggest daily achievement was figuring out which delivery spot had the best afternoon snacks.

If my dad ever found out I got fired by the CEO he hired for a sky-high salary, he'd probably blow a gasket and jump right out of his chairman's seat.

"Got it," I said, standing up without even glancing at the file. I shoved my hands in my pockets, looking totally unfazed.

Claire's brows twitched ever so slightly, clearly caught off guard by my reaction.

She probably thought I'd throw a tantrum, beg her to let me stay, or at least get pissed. But she never expected me to just roll with it.

Claire asked, "You don't have any objections?"

"Nope," I replied and shrugged. "Honestly, I was ready to quit anyway."

With that, I turned and walked out, leaving the whole conference room speechless.

Behind me, Claire's gaze was like two sharp blades, piercing right through me.

I could feel it, but I couldn't care less.

Finally, I got freedom.

Finally, I could say goodbye to this boring office act and head home to kick back and enjoy the carefree life I always dreamed of.

I was humming to myself, didn't even bother grabbing my stuff, and just strolled right out the office doors.

The sun was shining down, warm and cozy.

I took a deep breath; man, I could practically taste freedom in the air.

To celebrate my new life, I hit up my favorite little spot, ordered a feast, and washed it all down with my stash of wine. I ate until I was stuffed, not caring if I got a little messy.

After I was stuffed, I hopped in a cab and headed back to my downtown penthouse with a killer river view.

My dad gave me this place when I turned eighteen, saying it was so I would have a spot for my future wife.

I was humming a tune as I punched in the code and pushed the door open.

"Your boy's about to live it up!" I shouted.

But the next second, my voice died in my throat.

On the shoe rack by the door, a pair of red high heels I had never seen before were boldly sitting there, demanding attention.

The heels were razor-thin, the surface gleaming, radiating a cold, intimidating aura that warned strangers to keep their distance.

My brain just short-circuited for a solid three seconds.

Did I walk into the wrong place?

I stepped back, checked the number on the door; yep, this was definitely my place.

Did my dad set me up with some kind of house fairy? Like a Cinderella?

But those heels? No way they belonged to some gentle, domestic Cinderella. They looked more like something a queen would wear to crush one under her heel.

Just as I was still puzzling over the heels, a sound that made my skin crawl echoed through the apartment.

The shower was going full blast in the bathroom.

Someone was actually in my place, taking a shower.

I snapped to attention, grabbed the baseball bat by the door, and tiptoed toward the bathroom.

Thief or not, anyone bold enough to break into my turf was about to learn the hard way why he messed with me.

The bathroom door was frosted glass, and I could just barely make out an elegant silhouette moving inside.

The water stopped.

My heart was in my throat.

The doorknob turned, and the door was pulled open from the inside.

A wave of warm, steamy air mixed with the scent of body wash rolled out toward me.

And then, right in front of me was that same ice-cold face I had seen earlier today.

Claire was wrapped in my bath towel, her long hair dripping wet and sticking to her cheeks and neck. The fierce vibe from the office was gone; now she looked almost breathtaking, like she had just stepped out of a painting.

Droplets traced down her delicate collarbone, slipping under the towel and making it impossible not to imagine what was hidden underneath.

We locked eyes, and for a moment, the whole room felt frozen.

She stared at me, stunned for a second, then those sharp eyes of hers turned instantly frosty.

And me? The baseball bat slipped right out of my hand and clattered to the floor.

I cursed under my breath.

The woman in my bathroom, taking a shower, was none other than Claire, the ice queen CEO who fired me this afternoon.