A Night Stand With The CEO

SERENA'S POV After a long shift at the care home, I finally made it back to our small apartment. My feet ached, my head throbbed, and the only thing on my mind was a quick shower and crawling into bed. I swung the door open, and the scent of something delicious hit me so hard I froze in the doorway. There, laid out on our rickety kitchen table, was a feast. Plates of colourful dishes, rich stews, roasted chicken glistening under the low lights, bowls brimming with rice, and an array of vegetables that looked like they’d been plucked straight from a garden. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had anything remotely this lavish. “Mum?” I called, setting my bag down, still staring at the table in disbelief. “What…what’s all this?” My mum appeared from the kitchen, a warm smile on her face. Her hair was tied back, and she was wearing the apron I got her for her birthday, now covered in flour. She seemed…happy. Really happy. “Oh, you’re home, darling. Just in time!” She came over and pulled me into a hug, patting my shoulder. “Sit down! I’ve made all your favourites.” I pulled back, still staring at the spread, an uneasiness growing in my stomach. “Mum, this must have cost a fortune,” I murmured, glancing at her. “Where did you get the money for all of this?” She hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, before meeting my gaze with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s from your dowry.” My world stopped. I blinked at her, my brain refusing to process her words. “My…what?” “Your dowry, Serena,” she repeated, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She said it so casually, but I could see the flicker of guilt behind her eyes. I took a step back, my mouth dry. “Mum, when did I ever agree to marry someone?” My voice sounded strained, higher than usual, and I had to grip the back of a chair to steady myself. “Oh,Serena, it’s not what you think,” she said, reaching for my hand, but I pulled it away, feeling a whirlwind of emotions stirring inside me, confusion, fear, betrayal. I searched her face, looking for a sign that this was some kind of joke, but she looked away, her expression tight. “Then what is it, Mum? Because it sounds an awful lot like you’re selling me off.” Her face softened, and she shook her head. “It’s not like that, Serena. It’s…it’s a way to secure our future.” She took a deep breath, and her voice grew softer. “Julian Rosewood…he is a kind man, very wealthy, and he can provide for us in ways I never could. You’ve been working so hard, sacrificing so much. You deserve to live a life where you’re taken care of.” “Did I just hear that right? The Rosewoods?” I scoffed. “Julian Rosewood? You want me to get married to a disabled man?” “Mum!” “Calm down Serena… He's paralyzed, I know that. But… does it matter? I mean… our debts, it's been cleared off, every single one of it Serena. It's what you've been working so hard for.” “I don’t care, Mum” I snapped, fighting the tears threatening to spill over. “I am the one working my ass off, not you. I don't complain about paying all the debts dad piled up for us before his f*****g accident.” I took another step back, feeling a sharp stab of anger. “I can’t believe you would do this, Mum.” She looked down, her face crumbling. “I did it because I love you, Serena. I want what’s best for us. Our debts are piling up Serena.” She walked over to the table and picked up an envelope, showing it to me. “We had two weeks to leave this house… but now we have the money to pay back the banks. Doesn't this make you happy?” “Happy? You sold me off to a man who might never walk again because of money, mum.’ I yelled, ignoring the fact that I could be disturbing our neighbours. “I didn't sell you off, you're going to be happily married to him. It's for your own good, our good.” She shot back at me and immediately walked to the table, sitting by the meals. “Well, maybe what’s best for me is getting to make my own choices.” My voice was a whisper now, my words trembling with the intensity of everything I was feeling. The betrayal, the disbelief…it all crashed over me like a tidal wave. She stared at me, but this time I turned, grabbing my bag and heading for the door. I needed air. I needed to be anywhere but here, surrounded by a meal I could no longer stomach and the promise of a life I never asked for. “Serena, wait—” Her voice broke, but I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after learning that the price for my future had already been paid, with or without my consent. “Fine, go ahead and do whatever you want. Your wedding is tomorrow, you had better have that in mind.” My mum's voice echoed behind me, I felt my heart breaking into multiple pieces. I couldn't believe my life has been laid out like this, it wasn't what I envisioned for myself. I stumbled into the nearest bar, the faint glow of neon lights casting a haze over everything. The place was quiet, a few scattered patrons nursing their drinks alone in the corners, but that was exactly what I needed. Somewhere I could drown out the ache in my chest. I made my way to the bar, slumping onto a stool as I waved over the bartender. “Something strong,” I muttered. “Just…keep them coming.” As the drinks started to flow, the bitterness of my mother’s betrayal began to blend with the sting of the alcohol. Every sip took me a little further from the shock, from the feeling of being sold off to some stranger. A wealthy, disabled man, she’d said. A man I didn’t know, a life I’d never wanted. I swirled the ice in my glass, laughing bitterly. Was this what my life had come to? I don’t know how long I sat there, stewing in my anger and sorrow, but it wasn’t long before a dangerous idea started forming in my mind, fueled by both desperation and alcohol. If my mother wanted to sell me off, then maybe I’d make sure I didn’t come without complications. Maybe I’d ruin her perfect plan. My gaze drifted around the bar, searching, until I spotted him. A man, seated at the far end, dark hair, sharp jawline, and a quiet intensity about him. He was handsome, probably the most attractive person in the room, but he wasn’t making any effort to draw attention to himself. He seemed…still, waiting for something. Or someone. Good enough. I stood up, taking the last swig of my drink and straightening my spine, gathering my courage as I walked toward him. I was tipsy enough to be bold, bold enough to be reckless. I planted myself in front of him, leaning in with a challenging smile. “Hey handsome,” I said, and he lifted his gaze, his eyes piercing but unreadable. “Would you like to f**k me? Just for tonight…”