Chapter 1
Alex Grant and I were sworn enemies—not just business rivals in public, but privately, the kind who'd happily dance on each other's grave.
Then one day, I picked up a husky that looked like him.
I named the dog Husky Alex and had him sleep alongside me. While petting him, I'd rant about how Alex Grant was probably sterile and what a total asshole he was.
But one morning, I woke up to find the dog in my arms had turned into Alex himself—complete with an eight-pack and a death glare.
He grabbed my chin and smirked. "Enjoyed talking shit about me? So I'm just an asshole, huh?"
*****
Everyone in the business knew Alex and I were sworn enemies.
He was the hotshot tycoon, the youngest CEO at Grant Holdings. Looked like a model businessman, but scheming as hell.
Me? I founded a scrappy little studio, taking whatever jobs Alex's company passed on, barely scraping by.
By all rights, we should've just stayed out of each other's way.
But the universe had other plans. Same university, same year, different majors. After graduation, same industry. I couldn't stand his fake corporate act, and he looked down on my messy, independent style.
That was how the grudge was born.
Over the years, we kept running into each other at conferences and bidding events. Every time our eyes met, sparks flew—pure "what are you looking at?" and "so what if I am" energy.
My lifelong dream was to see even a tiny crack in that cold, perfect mask of his.
And one stormy night, that dream came true in the most insane way possible.
I'd just had a massive fight with a client and was stomping home, pissed. Passing the dumpsters outside my building, I heard a faint whimper.
Holding my umbrella, I went to check it out—and found a wet husky curled up in a cardboard box.
It was filthy, one leg looked hurt, and it was giving me the most pathetic look with those blue eyes, bright as sapphires.
That look—part hurt, part defiant, and the rest... God, I knew that expression way too well.
I crouched down and studied his face.
That sharp nose, that rebellious glare, that effortless, arrogant "you're all idiots" vibe.
My brain short-circuited as a ridiculously handsome face flashed through my mind.
Alex Grant!
This dog looked uncannily like Alex!
A crazy thought started to take root in my head.
I carried him home, gave him a careful bath, dried his fur, and treated his injury with ointment.
He didn't fuss at all, just coldly stared at me with those eyes—so much like Alex's.
That stare was making my skin crawl, so I cleared my throat, trying to get a grip and take control.
"So what if you look like Mr. Grant? Think you're special?"
I poked his fuzzy head. "From now on, you're Husky Alex. Got it?"
He let out a low whine, clearly unhappy.
I decided that meant yes.
From then on, my life now had a husky called Husky Alex.
He had super soft fur, felt amazing to pet, and acted cold and aloof. Never destroyed anything—basically a miracle for a husky.
I got addicted to petting him.
Every day after work, the first thing I'd do was grab Husky Alex, cuddle him close, and kick off my daily roast session.
"Husky Alex, can you believe it? That jerk Alex Grant snatched another deal right out from under me today! Seriously, is he nuts? He's got a giant company, but he still has to mess with my tiny studio!"
"Husky Alex, tell me—who could ever love a guy like Alex? He's over 30 and still single. There's gotta be something wrong with him. Maybe he's shooting blanks or something."
"Husky Alex, honestly—aren't you way cuter than Alex Grant? He's just a soulless corporate robot, but you? At least you wag your tail for me."
Not once did he ever wag his tail.
He'd just lie there, watching me with those deep blue eyes, his gaze all complicated—like he thought I was some kind of idiot.
But that didn't matter.
The important thing was, I'd finally found the perfect outlet for all my unfiltered emotions.
Hugging a dog that looked just like my sworn enemy and ranting about him? Honestly, it felt amazing.
Especially in winter, Husky Alex was my own personal heater—sleeping beside him was the best thing ever.
This cozy routine lasted for three whole months.
Then, one sunny morning, I woke up, stretched as usual, and out of habit reached for the spot beside me.
The familiar fur was gone.
Instead, my hand landed on something warm and firm... skin?
I jolted awake.
And there it was—a ridiculously handsome face, right in my space.
Strong brows, intense eyes, high nose, thin lips pressed tight.
Alex Grant.
My brain flatlined for three full seconds.
My eyes dropped.
Shirtless. Sculpted eight-pack and V-line gleaming in the morning light—the kind of sight that stole your breath.
And my hand? Right smack dab on his abs.
Time stopped.
I swear I'd never felt so clear-headed in my life.
Blood rushed to my head. It felt like someone dumped ice water in my stomach.
What the hell? Why was Alex Grant in my bed? Where was Husky Alex? Wasn't I cuddling him last night?
I yanked my hand back like I'd been shocked, scrambled to the far corner of the bed, and wrapped myself in the blanket.
"Y-You—what are you doing here!" I stammered, my voice trembling like a leaf.
Alex slowly opened his eyes. There wasn't a hint of grogginess in those piercing eyes—just a chill that could freeze you to the bone.
He sat up, the blanket sliding off, showing off his full bare torso.
He looked down at me, sizing me up like I was a lamb waiting for the slaughter.
Then, he slowly smirked, giving me a smile that was pure cruelty.
He pinched my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze, and asked, each word slow and deliberate, "Chloe, enjoy cursing me out?
"I heard you think I'm shooting blanks?
"And you called me an asshole, right?"