After Secretly Dating My Boss for 7 Years, I Finally Kicked Him Out of My Bed Chapter 2

Me: “…”

What the hell?

This stoic, “old-school” man could blush?

And damn, it was sexy.

Unfortunately for me, I’ve always been weak when it comes to good looks.

I studied his handsome, restrained expression—the way he sat perfectly upright, his white shirt buttoned all the way to his neck—and felt my lips curl into a mischievous smile.

In seven years of dating, Holden had always been so rigid. Even in our most intimate moments, he was precise and methodical. Same time, same place, same positions, every single time.

I never expected that on our last night together, he would make such an audacious request.

Excitement bubbled up inside me.

Smiling, I slipped into the nightgown right in front of him, then straddled his lap.

Holden’s entire body went rigid, his eyes darkening as he struggled to remain composed.

“Relax,” I teased, brushing my lips against his ear. “Don’t panic.”

I didn’t want him to suddenly bolt and ruin my fun, so I whispered soothing words to keep him grounded.

Everything unfolded naturally, just like the past seven years—except this time, Holden seemed determined to shed his uptight image. He tried things he’d never done before, as if letting go of his usual restraint.

Then, caught up in the moment, he murmured softly, “Scarlett.”

Not “Ms. White.” Scarlett.

But so what?

At the end of the day, men like him always pull up their pants and leave.

So, I’ve always believed in beating them to the punch.

I opened my eyes the next morning, sunlight streaming through the windows.

With a sigh, I turned over and kicked Holden off the bed.

The thud was satisfying.

For a man who’d spent his life as a powerful CEO, this was probably the first time he’d been literally kicked out of bed by a woman.

Holden sat on the floor, stunned.

I stretched lazily, then spread my arms with a smile. “Sorry, Mr. Holden. As of today, this apartment—and everything in it—is mine. That includes this bed.”

I gestured toward the door.

Holden’s jaw tightened, his expression growing colder. For the first time, I didn’t back down. I met his icy glare head-on, refusing to budge.

Finally, he stood up, straightened his clothes, and regained his usual aura of cold authority.

But as he reached the door, he suddenly turned back.

Looking down at me with an unreadable expression, he said, “Ms. White, once I leave, I won’t be coming back.”

He paused, his tone softer but still distant.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything else to say to me?”

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