Broken by the Millionaire CEO

“The boss wants to see you in his office—he’s angry.”

“Ugh, I was worried about this.” I let out a groan and rise from my desk. “Thanks for giving me a heads up.”

“Sure thing.” My coworker nods and departs.

I’ve only worked here for a few weeks, and it’s already been challenging. I’m an accountant with almost two decades of experience, but that doesn’t seem to matter to my new boss. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever worked under. For starters, he’s college-aged and has a total frat boy vibe. This is my first time working at a tech startup, so maybe that kind of thing is normal. That said, it feels weird taking orders from a guy half my age, and I can’t help but wonder how he made his money. The guy seems to have unlimited access to capital. He’s been plowing it all into expanding the business with a reckless level of ambition. There’s something very odd about this situation.

I need to get to the bottom of it.

As head of the finance department, it’s my responsibility to speak up when he’s spending too much. I brought it up at the company meeting this morning, and I could tell he was displeased. I’ve been expecting him to call me into his office to scold me, and it seems the time has finally arrived.

“Ethan, thanks for coming. Please take a seat.” He gestures toward a chair as I enter his office.

“H-hi, Duke. What did you want to talk about?” My voice quivers while I sit down.

His brilliant green eyes focus on me, projecting a sense of authority and aggression. His sandy blond hair and honey-hued skin seem to glow in the harsh fluorescent light, giving him a sort of supernatural aura. It feels strange sitting here opposite a guy who looks no older than a college freshman, but he projects a sense of calm control that causes me to shrink in my seat. The slight frown on his masculine face makes me tremble.

“So, you’re unhappy with how I’m running my business?” His voice is deep and silky.

“U-um, no. It’s not that…”

“I understand. You’re just doing your job. It’s important to have someone who can be open and honest with me.” He relaxes, his expression becoming softer.

“Yeah…I just think we should be more careful with the expenses.” I give a nervous smile.

“But you see, Ethan, we’re a ‘growth startup’. That means we’re a first mover in the industry and we need to seize as much of the market as possible. There’s a cost to that.”

“I suppose so. I’m more used to working at established companies…”

“How about this—come over to my place for dinner tonight. I can outline my plans for the business and make sure we’re on the same page.”

“Wow, really?!”

“Absolutely. It’ll be a good opportunity for you to learn.”

“Thank you, sir!” My eyes light up. “But…I do have one question for you—where is all this cash coming from? I’ve seen transfers on the books, but they don’t make any sense. They come from a personal account owned by someone named Steve O’Neill, but I can’t find any record of him being affiliated with the company.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t concern yourself with that.” A strange, cocky smile spreads across his face. “But if you really want to know, we can discuss it tonight. I’ll give you a proper education on how this business operates.”

A full moon hangs high in the night sky, bathing my vehicle in its pale, ominous light. Towering black iron gates fly by while I drive, each appearing more opulent than the next. Huge privacy hedges grow behind the fences, blocking the view of the houses within. Whenever I manage to catch a glimpse, it makes my jaw drop. This isn’t your typical upscale neighborhood—this is an enclave of power and prestige. How the fuck does Duke live in a place like this?! His company isn’t even profitable yet. He must live at home with his parents. This has gotta be a “daddy’s money” situation.

I’ve amassed a small fortune over the course of my career. I’ve always tried to live within my means, and being perennially single has helped me save up. Even with all my money though, I know I could never afford to live in a place like this.

I locate his address and pull up to the gate call box.

“Hey, Duke? It’s me, Ethan,” I speak into the device.

“Just a moment,” a deep, unfamiliar voice replies.

The gate unlocks and automatically swings open. My eyes widen as I drive onto the property. The perimeter is lined with tall hedges and dense trees. It’s to the point of being overkill. What is Duke hiding from? This is the kind of property you’d expect a celebrity to live in—like they’re trying to shield themselves from the paparazzi.

The house itself is grand and elegant. An aged, historic property, it’s sleek and understated. Crisp, timeless brickwork lines the façade, broken at regular intervals by tall windows casting orange light onto the yard outside. The front entrance is a double door made of dark wood and adorned with gleaming brass handles and knockers.

After parking my car, I step out and approach the doorway. It opens before I have the chance to knock.

“Ethan, glad you could make it!” Duke stands inside, a grin on his face.

“Of course, sir! I appreciate the invite.” I nod and enter.

An enormous crystal chandelier hangs high above the foyer. The beams glitter and dance across the antique paintings hanging on the pale blue walls. I didn’t realize Duke was an art collector…or maybe his parents are.

A stately staircase wraps around the room, leading up to the second floor. Directly ahead, a hallway leads into what looks like a kitchen and dining room. My eyes travel along the glittering marble floors, admiring the classic elegance of the space.

But I see something that causes me to freeze up.