The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

Jake continues to refuse to acknowledge me, even when we get on the flight, his earphones in and his music blaring. He submerges himself in work across the aisle from me on his laptop, laying a bag on the seat beside him, making it clear he wants space. I grit my teeth and jut out my chin in anger. Getting up and shaking my head at him in fury.

Screw you, Jake, act like an asshole and I’ll happily treat you like one.

I move down the plane, pick a seat facing away and haul out my book. Not that I can focus. I’m seething that he’s behaving this way.

Why is it always about what he wants, and I must go along or be frozen out? Sometimes he’s impossible.

* * *

“You’re not coming?” I balk at him as I slide into the car that Jefferson is holding open for me, my heart falling to my feet like a heavy sandbag. Pain constricting in my throat.

“No, I’ve to go take care of a few things.” Jake avoids looking at me, his expression hard as he gazes off across the airfield toward an approaching familiar car. He lets Jefferson take our cases and load them in the boot as I stare with open astonishment through the wide car door.

I plead, my angry resolve that has lasted through our entire

I’m the one who wants to talk.

he turns and heads off toward his car, now parked on the runway about twenty feet away, I note Daniel sliding dutifully out of the driver’s door with a confused look on his face. He obviously had orders to drive Jake’s pride and joy here and is wondering what the hell is eating his ass. Daniel looks him over, noting the tense scowl, the rigid posture, and the way he completely blanks my

a hand in a gesture that dismisses me. A wave

to the driver’s side and thumbs Daniel out of the way arrogantly, he reluctantly moves out and around the car to get in the passenger side. Taking one last look at my direction and a quick flick to

Oh, my god.

throat with the overwhelming despair inside of

door aggressively, firing it up, and revving the engine so it roars across at me. The sound is both intimidating and terrifying. I’m pretty sure that if he had something to smash right now, he would be focusing all his

car around in a show of idiocy. Hand brake spinning it, so it’s facing the other way in a blink. He slams his foot down, wheel spinning viciously for a few seconds and takes off like a bat out of hell, the air ringing with the powerful engine and squealing of brakes. The stench of burned rubber and god knows what else

actual fuck,

in the air like this, he’s obviously in arrogant asshole mode. Not since the boat, so very long ago, has he behaved this way. Surely, he won’t end things over this,

him, maybe more than I realize, but there is no need for him to behave this way