I was secretly dating my CEO online.

He had no idea that the woman he was flirting with on Facebook was sitting three cubicles away from his corner office.

Our rules were simple: no video calls, no meeting in person. It worked perfectly, until he broke his own rule and demanded to see me.

So, I dumped him.

Now, my office is a war zone. My boss's foul mood is making everyone's life a living hell, and I’m the only one who knows why.

"Take this concept draft to Alexander."

As I raise my hand to knock on his door, I’m completely panicked.

This would be our first face-to-face meeting.

————————

1

I was dating my CEO online.

Which would have been fine, except for two small problems.

First, meeting in person was never going to happen. And second, he had no idea the woman he was flirting with on Facebook was actually one of his own designers.

Lately, my CEO, Alexander Stone, had been in a terrible mood. A dark cloud followed him around our Seattle office, and everyone was walking on eggshells. Our daily Starbucks runs were practically cut in half.

He was working insane hours, which meant we were working insane hours. As long as he was in the office, no one in the design department dared to leave.

The result? We were all stuck until midnight, sporting dark circles so intense that even Fenty Beauty couldn't save us.

Here’s the thing: I was probably the only one who knew the real reason for his foul mood. But I couldn't tell a soul.

The big boss was "heartbroken." And unfortunately, the person who "broke his heart"… was me.

He just didn’t know it.

It all started two years ago, when my online boyfriend suddenly got pushy about meeting in real life.

We’d met on Facebook, in a group called "Seattle Singles."

He'd posted a cry for help: [Why can't I get a girlfriend?] Naturally, I clicked on it. The post read: [Male, 6'2", 180 lbs, 28, Harvard MBA. Currently a CEO at a tech company. Seven-figure salary, own an apartment and a Tesla in Seattle, but I'm average-looking. Never been in a relationship. So, what's the problem?]

The comment section was a train wreck.

[LOL, another catfish.]

[Is this guy living in a fantasy world? Harvard MBA, 28, and a CEO? Come on, this is Seattle, not some Silicon Valley soap opera.]

[We all know a guy with these stats is either gay or a controlling asshole.]

I was stressed out from a project and feeling a bit feisty. I shot back a reply: [Maybe your profile sounds like it was written by a robot. How about a picture?] Then I closed the tab and forgot about it.

A few minutes later, a private message from him popped up.

[Hi, can I send it to you privately?]

I love drama, so of course I said yes. [Sure,] I replied.

He sent the photo.

I almost spit my iced Americano all over my MacBook.

Did he just say he was average-looking? This was anything but average.

The picture was a mess. It was a dimly lit selfie, his phone obscuring half his face, taken from that universally unflattering low angle. His hair was a disaster, and he wore outdated, thick-rimmed glasses that just screamed "nerd."

But underneath all that… the man was damn handsome.

Even with the poor quality, I could make out a sharp jawline, a straight nose, and thin lips. Every feature practically screamed "hot."

And yet, something about him felt familiar.

"How can a guy this good-looking not know it?" I muttered, zooming in and out of the picture.

My inner designer couldn't help it. I fired off a few pointers: [Your personal branding needs a major overhaul. Lose the glasses or get modern frames. And the photo angle! Hold the phone higher, for God's sake. Also, stop wearing company hoodies…]

His reply was instant: [Thank you so much!]

I figured that was the end of it. But the next day, he sent new pictures, having followed all my advice. The day after, more pictures. This went on for a few days.

Just as I was about to mute him, he asked if he could hire me to "redesign" his dating profile. He offered to pay.

I’m never one to turn down a side hustle. I sent him my PayPal link. A moment later, a friend request popped up. The profile picture was all too familiar.

Wait a second. Wasn't that my CEO's LinkedIn photo?

My hand trembled as I nearly hit "accept." My heart plunged into my stomach. I scrambled to set all my work-related Facebook posts to "private."

My mind raced. Was my work email somehow linked to my personal Facebook? While I was panicking, his chat window showed he was typing for what felt like an eternity. Finally, a message appeared: [Thanks for all your help. I don't think I'll need to redesign my profile after all.]

Another message followed. [I think I've already found the person I'm interested in.]

I was completely speechless.

I compared his profile to the photo again—yep, it was him. It was definitely my company's CEO, Alexander Stone.

The coincidence was almost too much to believe. But the crucial thing was, he still didn't know it was me.

Over the next few weeks, I helped him polish his online persona, and he quickly became much more "charming." Just when I thought my little consulting gig was over, he confessed his feelings for me.

It started with a long, rambling essay. I skimmed to the end: [Actually, Emma, I think I'm falling in love with you.]

I replied with: [Um…]

Silence.

Then I tried: [Thanks for the compliment?]

He shot back instantly: [What?]

[I said I like you!]

I typed: [And I said I appreciate the thought.]

He insisted: [No, I'm serious.]

I replied: [I'm seriously appreciative.]

This was giving me a headache. Was this guy for real?

He seemed to pause, then asked: [Anyway, can you give me a chance?]

I left him on read.

That night, I couldn't sleep—a rare occurrence in the over-caffeinated city of Seattle.

From the next day on, the messages were relentless. Good morning, good night, and a running commentary of his day. "Just got to the office." "In a boring meeting." "Just had my third coffee."

So, this was how a CEO flirts.

Impressive.

I’d occasionally send a one-word reply, and he'd react like the company's stock just doubled.

I finally couldn't take it anymore and wrote: [For the love of God, please Google 'How to talk to women normally.']

Him: [Huh?]

I sighed. Perfect.

Things took a sharp turn a month later.

I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a post of a male model. I meant to share it with my best friend, but my thumb slipped and I sent it to him instead.

My comment was less than subtle: [Damn, I'd climb him like a tree.]

His reply? A single, ominous question mark.

By the time I saw his message, the window to unsend it was long gone. Looking at hot guys is a universal pastime, but for some reason, a wave of guilt washed over me.

Just then, a new message popped up. [Is this your type?]

It was followed by a video.

The setting looked like a private gym. The body on display wasn't a bulky bodybuilder's, but lean and powerful, his skin almost glowing under the cool gym lights. I could clearly see the perfect V-shape of his abs disappearing into the waistband of his gray sweatpants, leaving just enough to the imagination.

As for a shirt… well, he generously wasn't wearing one.

The man in the video seemed a bit self-conscious. The camera shook slightly, revealing the tips of his ears were bright red.

I typed back instantly: [More? Don't be stingy.]

He replied: [You want more? You know what to do.]

A few more clips followed, each one from a more daring angle than the last.

I had to admit, his strategy was damn effective.

I never would have guessed that my cold, ruthless CEO was such a… tease in private.

This was turning out to be unexpectedly thrilling.

Just as I was enjoying the private show, another message arrived.

[If you agree to be my girlfriend, you'll get exclusive content like this. I'll make sure you never have to look at anyone else.]

Life is about the pursuit of money, power, fame, and pleasure.

I didn't care much for the first three, but that last one was definitely tempting.

I replied: [Well… that sounds like a decent proposal.]

It was just an online thing, after all.

Of course, there had to be rules. Our rules.

No public announcements, no couple avatars, no video calls, and absolutely no meeting in person.

He wasn't thrilled, but he agreed.

And so, two years passed just like that.

As he got better at showing off, I found myself more and more addicted to his photos and videos. The man was a natural.

Just when I thought we could keep our little arrangement going forever, he brought up meeting in person again.

I shut it down immediately: [We agreed not to meet. This is an online-only thing, no real-life involvement.]

He sounded frustrated. [I know, I'm sorry, but I really want to see you.]

I knew exactly what was going on. Our company was facing a huge project deadline, and as CEO, he was under immense pressure. He was probably looking for some real-life comfort.

But meeting him meant our secret could get out. The answer was a hard no.

He pestered me for a week straight. Finally, I got fed up. I told him I wanted to break up.

He was completely stunned, as if his server had just been unplugged.

My phone immediately started blowing up with his calls. I sighed and placed it face down on my desk.

Right on cue, my design director, Jessica Miller, called my name.

"Emma, take this new project concept to Alexander."

Everyone in the office knew Jessica had a thing for the CEO.

Normally, she'd jump at any chance to talk to him.

But lately, Alexander had been a walking volcano. The last time she tried to suck up to him, he’d verbally ripped her to shreds. She’d been avoiding him ever since.

My stomach dropped. I forced a professional smile. "Jessica, isn't it a bit over my head to report directly to the CEO?"

This concept had been stuck in limbo for weeks because Alexander was never satisfied. He’d find fault with a design even on a good day, let alone now. She was clearly sending me in to be her cannon fodder.

Jessica just rolled her eyes. "Just do it and stop making excuses."

Fine.

Even though I’d practically memorized every inch of him online, I was still nervous about meeting him face-to-face. He was known for being cold, demanding, and brutally sharp-tongued.

With a deep sigh, I pulled out my phone.

He'd been spamming me with apologies ever since I suggested breaking up. He was clearly panicking, but I hadn't replied. I needed to hold my ground.

Meeting was out of the question.

As for breaking up… I wasn't entirely against it.

I reconsidered for a moment, then sent a message.

[Fine, we don't have to break up. But can you behave? I really hate it when people don't play by the rules.]

He replied instantly: [Babe, you finally answered. I know I was wrong. I'm sorry, I won't do it again.]

It was followed by a crying emoji.

I took a breath and knocked on his office door.

The man inside froze for a second, then cleared his throat.

"Come in."

When I walked in, the first thing I noticed were his slightly red-rimmed eyes.

Had he been… up all night?

He caught my gaze and awkwardly tapped his desk.

"Is that the concept draft? Just leave it there. You can go."

His tone was surprisingly soft.

Normally, he would've launched into a lecture about the chain of command. A colleague was fired last year for going over his manager's head. Of course, that guy's designs were also crap, but it was clear that at Alexander's company, you didn't skip levels.

As expected, the concept was rejected again. Jessica tossed it back on my desk with a smirk.

So, I had no choice but to stay late to revise it.

Alexander, however, seemed to be in a better mood and left on time. Since it was Friday, the rest of the designers cleared out early. Soon, it was just me and the cleaning lady.

I told her she could go, promising to lock up.

Hours later, the beep of a key card at the main door made me jump. I froze, my heart pounding.

I checked the time. It was past 10 PM. Who would be coming back now?

I told myself to be rational. This was a downtown office building, not a horror movie set.

A familiar figure appeared in the doorway. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

It was Alexander.

"What are you doing here all by yourself? Aren't you going home?" he asked, looking surprised.

I gritted my teeth. It's your fault I'm still here, Mr. CEO!

"This project is urgent," I said instead. "I figured I'd work overtime to get it done."

"Oh, that project," Alexander said, pausing. He walked over to my desk. "Let me explain my vision in more detail. It'll be easier for you to revise that way."

My heart leaped into my throat. To make up with him, I had to reply to his messages. And to avoid constantly checking my phone, I had logged into my personal Facebook on my work computer.

This was bad. This was very bad.

Alexander got closer. "Let me see your screen."

My mind went into overdrive as I slowly moved my mouse.

Just as I was about to click away, Alexander said, "Move over. Let me drive—"

"Wait!"

In a sheer panic, I shot up from my chair, knocking my iced Americano over in the process.

The coffee splashed all over the empty chair across from me, successfully startling Alexander.

He just stood there, looking a little stunned. That bewildered expression was, I had to admit, kind of cute.

It was in that moment that it finally clicked: the man who blushed on camera and the CEO who ran a multi-million dollar company were one and the same.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Sorry, Mr. Stone. I… I need to grab some paper towels to clean this up. You can take a look at my design file in the meantime." I snatched my phone from the desk and made a beeline for the breakroom.

Alexander just blinked, still a bit dazed. "Uh, sure."

The second I was out of sight, I used my phone to remotely log out of all Facebook sessions. I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

The problem with Alexander was his habit of giving me a real-time report of his life on Facebook. If I hadn't logged out, message notifications would have kept popping up in the corner of my screen. Even if I didn't open them, his cursor could have easily hovered over them, and then my cover would have been blown.

I quickly replied to his messages, then finally returned to my desk.

By the time I got back, Alexander had already finished reviewing my design. He beckoned me over to revise the plan with him.

After explaining what needed to be changed, he stood up. "I'm going to grab you another drink. Be right back."

Oh, God. He was coming back?

Defeated, I buried myself in my work.

Alexander was, without a doubt, a workaholic. With his "guidance," it was nearly midnight by the time we finished the revisions.

"This is almost there," he said, nodding. "Let's go with this direction."

I let out a breath of relief. "Great. That's good."

But deep down, a part of me was still fuming.

Just then, Alexander suddenly asked, "Do you live far? I can give you a ride."

"Huh?" I froze, then quickly waved my hand. "No, no need. I can take the light rail. It's pretty convenient."

"It's late for a woman to be taking the light rail alone in Seattle. It's not safe," Alexander insisted.

I couldn't really refuse. I reluctantly agreed.

At the same time, a Facebook message popped up on my phone. [I'm giving a female colleague a ride home. I made her sit in the back.]

I responded: [Ok.]

We sat in his Tesla in an awkward silence. I couldn't just play on my phone, so I ended up staring out at the city lights like a tourist.

"Oh, by the way," he said, breaking the silence. "What kind of gifts do girls usually like from their boyfriends?"

I froze. Oh, right. My birthday was coming up.

"Um… well, it's the thought that counts, not the gift itself," I said awkwardly.

"The thing is, I've bought gifts for my girlfriend before, but she didn't like them and even returned them to me. So I'm at a loss."

He sounded genuinely frustrated. I, on the other hand, just wanted to scream.

Seriously? I come from a normal, middle-class family. He had bought me a lifetime license for the entire Adobe Creative Cloud suite. I didn't even have a computer powerful enough to run it smoothly. Anyone who saw it would probably assume I was using a pirated version.

What was I supposed to do other than return it?

After a moment, I suggested, "You could make something by hand. Like a drawing, or a small design project. It won't cost much, but it's personal. It shows you put in the effort."

He was quiet after that. "I see. You seem quite young. How old are you?"

My heart skipped a beat. "I'm one year older than you."

"When's your birthday?" he asked.

"August," I replied.

He made a small sound of acknowledgment, then seemed a little embarrassed. "Um… I've never asked your real name—what is it?"

"Emma," I stated. "E-M-M-A."

Online, I had told him my nickname was "Ems."

We didn't speak again until we arrived at my apartment building. I politely said my goodbyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Stone."

"No problem. Head on up," he said.

I nodded and was about to leave.

"Emma!" Alexander suddenly called out.

"Yeah?" I turned back, confused. "What's up?"

"Never mind. Just get inside soon."

A few weeks later, the project plan was approved, and we landed the big client. To celebrate, the company booked a rooftop bar in South Lake Union for a massive party.

At the party, everyone was busy drinking and networking. All I wanted was to find a quiet corner and attack the mini cupcakes.

But then, someone called my name.

"Hey, everyone, let me introduce you to Emma Davis from our design department!" Jessica announced, her voice a little too loud. "Don't let her age fool you—she's incredibly talented. Alexander himself praised her work on the last project. Right, Emma?" She smiled, putting a hand on my shoulder in a show of admiration.

I knew very well that the project wasn't supposed to be mine. It was originally her task, and she had just pushed it onto me.

Online, I was a witty powerhouse. In real life, I was a professional people-pleaser.

I wasn't comfortable being the center of attention, but I forced a smile. "Oh, it was mostly thanks to your leadership, Jessica."

Her grin widened. "Mostly, but you're talented yourself. After all, you graduated from UW." She then gestured towards a man standing nearby. "Come on, Emma. This difficult new client is all yours now."