Filed to story: The CEO’s Wife Is a Secret Boss Novel (Allison & Jeremy) Free Online
He summoned every ounce of strength within him to suppress the demons that roiled inside. It was the only way he could appear normal in front of Alyssa, rather than a creature dependent on medication to retain his humanity.
“Don’t be with Justin. Don’t meet him… Can you promise me that?” His voice was low and strained. Cold sweat covered him.
“We’ve broken up, haven’t we? You were the one who ended things. What right do you have to tell me what to do now?”
Alyssa’s eyes were red, and she provoked him deliberately, a bitter smile playing on her lips. “Does it bother you to see the person who was once yours with someone else? Are you bothered, or do you still care for me?”
“We were once lovers. I just don’t want you to get hurt again.” Jeremy’s words trembled with barely contained emotion. His hands shook, but no one saw. His urge to search for his pills almost consumed him. “That’s all I wanted to say. It’s up to you whether or not you want to heed my words. But just know that I will never harm you.” After saying that, he strutted toward the door.
“Earlier… what was that about?’ Alyssa questioned him out of the blue.
Jeremy stopped in his tracks. He closed his eyes briefly, simply responding. “Good night.”
*Jeremy, you are so good at tormenting me,” Alyssa said with a wry smile, watching as he walked away.
She curled up into herself, hugging her knees tightly. Her heart ached as she replayed the kiss, unsure whether it was born from lingering affection or some primal instinct buried deep within him.
Without love, a lifetime felt impossibly long.
Yet, it was too suffocating when there was love.
At midnight, Justin arrived at the airport in Kontina’s capital city on his private plane.
With Sheryl and Remy as company, he sat in a luxury car that sped through the night.
The atmosphere in the car was tense. Justin had taken his medications, and he rested with his eyes closed the entire way. Remy was in the driver’s seat while Sheryl sat next to him, holding her breath.
Having worked for Justin for so long, of course, she knew who he traveled all the way to Kontina to meet with.
Despite being someone who often smiled, Justin became quiet and gloomy when he thought of the man he was about to see.
The car eventually stopped outside a grand, mysterious estate. Sheryl’s voice broke the silence. ‘Mr. Justin. We’ve arrived.”
The massive, opulent gates creaked open slowly as Remy steered the luxury car into the Sedonian fortress, a relic from the Middle Ages, with casual ease.
After parking, both Remy and Sheryl got out of the car and attended to Justin.
As Justin emerged from the vehicle, his expression remained impassive, but his eyes were chillingly dark, reflecting an intensity he kept tightly in check.
His stride was steady, exuding an air of authority, eerily reminiscent of Jeremy’s presence.
He was only able to appear so because he got Sheryl to inject a dose of adrenaline before he got out of the car. This shot was one that RC Biotechnology Research Institute had recently developed.
His only purpose was to no longer look like an invalid before that man. He had to make himself presentable. “This is a private residence. Please hold on for a moment.”
This place was heavily guarded at the door. Bodyguards wearing suits and white gloves stopped them in their tracks.
With a vicious look in his eyes, Justin curled his lips into a condescending smirk. Without a word, he reached into his chest pocket and withdrew a golden-edged card, presenting it to the bodyguards.
The two bodyguards lowered their heads to examine the card. Their expressions shifted dramatically as they immediately bowed low. “Welcome, sir! This way, please.”
The change in demeanor was jarring-just moments before, they had been cold, and now they were deeply respectful. Sheryl couldn’t suppress her smile, following Justin with curiosity bubbling inside her.
She couldn’t help but glance at the card. It was a striking, gold-colored poker card, its surface etched with intricate designs and adorned with gleaming rubies. The King of Hearts was printed on it in bold relief.
An attendant led them deeper into the fortress.
Remy was expressionless the whole time, while Sheryl’s eyes darted everywhere silently.
Deep down, she was in absolute awe of the extravagance of the building’s interior design. At the same time, she tried her best to conceal her emotions as she did not want to bring about embarrassment to Justin through her callow reactions.
Growing up, she had felt the same awe when Sophia brought her in and out of Seaview Manor. When she later became Justin’s follower, she had thought his luxurious Wiktorian house in Mosgravia was the height of opulence. But this place was on an entirely different level.
In that moment, it became clear to her that she had much to learn. She had been too na?ve, too limited in her thinking.
The walls were lined with authentic paintings and priceless antiques, each item alone worth millions. It was a world that felt out of reach.
Sheryl could no longer suppress her curiosity. She asked, “Sir, where… where are we?”
Looking straight ahead, Justin answered frostily, “We’re at Kings’ Club.”
Even though Remy wasn’t paying particular attention, he paused when he heard that name.
He’d heard whispers of Kings’ Club from influential figures in far-flung parts of the world. It was known that no amount of money could buy access to this place. Only those with immense power and family prestige could hope to gain entry.
As it turned out, this was where Kings’ Club was.
“In this place, people can fulfill any desire, buy anything they want-it surpasses even the wildest imagination,” Justin continued, his lips twisting into a dark, knowing smile.
Sheryl was astounded. She questioned further, “So, was that poker card you had… an invitation card?”
‘It’s a symbol of my identity.”
“In that case, the King of Spades means…
With a grim look on his face, Justin explained, “Jack, Queen, King, and Ace are the different ranks of the VIPs of this place. J is the lowest rank; by inference, Ace is the highest of all ranks. Out of the four card suits, spades is the most honorable one.”
Sheryl beamed in awe. “I knew it. No matter where we go, you are the one who stands out from the crowd with nobility!”
With both his hands in his pockets, Remy stared at Sheryl as if she was an idiot who only knew how to flatter others.
“Are you hard of hearing? Sir has shared that Ace is above King. Out of all the Aces, there is also the Ace of Spades. That is the person with the highest rank of them all.”
Sheryl shot him a fierce glare.
Some people never change, no matter how much they alter their appearance or get a second chance at life. They still cling to the habit of sucking up to others. To Remy, Sheryl was no different than that vile woman, Alyssa.
*Remy is right. Aces are the noblest of all VIPs. Justin narrowed his eyes. “I may not be an Ace, but I am quite familiar with someone who holds the Ace of Spades.”
As they spoke, the attendant led them toward a massive door.
The door opened with a loud mechanical whirr, releasing a cloud of smoke and a heady, sensual atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the serenity outside. It felt as though they were entering a completely different world.
The room they stepped into was expansive, with rows of seats rising in tiers from the second floor upward, all facing a stage at the center. People were seated in the stands, their faces hidden in the dim lighting, making them appear as unsettling, lifeless marionettes from a distance.
But it was what was happening on the stage that nearly caused Sheryl to scream in shock. Even Remy, who had a cold and hardened demeanor, widened his eyes in disbelief.
Several naked women were confined in glass cages suspended high above the stage. Each had a choker around their neck, and their movements were pitiful-some crawled, some shivered, while others curled up in the corners of their cages.
It was a horrifying display-inhumane, humiliating. The women were treated no better than animals.
This scene laid bare the harsh reality of people being dehumanized, victims of the rich’s merciless disregard. “Is this… part of human trafficking?” Sheryl asked, wide-eyed.
Although Sheryl had been involved in many immoral deeds herself, this obscene scene was still a jolt to her, pushing the boundaries of her already skewed moral compass.
“There are transactions involved, but it’s not human trafficking.” Justin’s voice was calm, though his eyes held a trace of impatience.
‘These women would have no value if they were simply sold for their looks,” he continued. “The real value lies in the blood running through their veins and their organs.”
Sheryl, who had spent considerable time at RC Biotechnology Research Institute after becoming one of Justin’s followers, immediately grasped the meaning behind his words.
In that instant, she felt her limbs go numb. She shuddered.
She had heard rumors about the elite of Mosgravia-some of the wealthiest and most powerful individuals- draining the blood of young women with superior blood quality, conducting full transfusions with themselves, or extracting specific contents from their blood to consume.
All in a desperate attempt to achieve immortality and preserve their youth.
The realization hit her like a physical blow. The crimes being committed here were grotesque and terrifying.
Remy, too, frowned. The discomfort in his chest was undeniable as he observed the women trapped in their hopeless cages. He didn’t want to go any deeper into this place, but as Justin’s bodyguard, he had no choice but to remain at his side.
The attendant led Justin, Sheryl, and Remy up to the stands. When they got to the door of a particular private room, the attendant prompted, “This way, Mr. Walsh.’
The attendant pulled the thick, velvet curtain back and Justin entered, his expression unreadable.
Just as the curtain closed behind them, Sheryl and Remy caught sight of the man seated in the private room. He appeared to be in his 50s, yet the way he carried himself-his sharp, piercing eyes, a suit of rich red velvet, and slicked-back hair-created the illusion of someone in their early 40s.
