Dating the Bossy CEO Next Door
Chapter 31-All done

Chapter 31: Chapter 31-All done

Morrison let out a long sigh, raking a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Sorry..."

Even he was a little startled by what he’d just blurted out. Marry her? Where the hell had that come from?

Lilian shot him a furious glare.

"You’re always saying sorry, but you never actually stop doing it!"

Every time they met, he’d take some kind of advantage of her. Every single time.

And every time, he’d say, "I won’t do it again."

But then next time? He’d just go further—more shameless, more out of line.

Morrison didn’t even know what was wrong with him anymore.

The moment he was around her, all self-control just flew out the window.

He noticed the smudge in her lipstick and motioned lazily toward the inner room.

"There’s a lounge inside. Go fix your makeup in the mirror. I’ll have someone take you to HR afterward."

It was clearly an attempt to change the subject—and honestly, he needed it too.

A certain part of his body was still... reacting.

Maybe he should go yell at that smiling assistant who’d been chatting her up just now. That might cool him down a bit.

Lilian huffed and stomped into the lounge with her bag in hand.

As expected, it was decorated in a purely masculine style—minimalist, cold metal tones, sleek and businesslike.

She stood in front of the mirror, touched up her makeup, and took a moment to calm herself down before stepping back outside.

Morrison’s eyes swept over her as she returned.

Even in a plain black-and-white outfit, she carried herself with a kind of effortless grace—fresh, youthful, elegant.

She stood there like a stream in a quiet forest: clear, calm, and strangely captivating.

He’d specifically asked her to dress modestly, hoping she wouldn’t attract attention.

But even now, in that simple white shirt and black pants, she still stood out in a way that was uniquely her.

But she was already here. He couldn’t just send her home to change. And he sure as hell wasn’t about to turn her away from MOS Corp on her first day.

So he said nothing—just gave her a deep, unreadable look, then picked up the phone.

"Get Norton in here," he said.

Moments later, Norton walked in, offering Lilian a polite smile before turning to Morrison.

"Shouldn’t this be Sean’s job?" he asked, clearly confused. "Taking new employees to HR is part of internal affairs, isn’t it?"

Morrison shot him a warning glare.

"I said you take her. What’s with all the questions?"

Norton quietly led Lilian out of the office.

"This way, Miss Washington," he said politely.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Morrison called for Sean to come in.

Sean stepped in looking confused, only to find Morrison leaning back in his chair, arms folded, not even pretending to work anymore.

"Talk," Morrison said curtly.

Sean blinked. "Talk about what?"

Morrison’s gaze darkened as he stared at him.

"From the moment you picked her up downstairs... to the second the elevator doors opened and you saw me—every single word you said. Repeat it. All of it."

Sean: "..."

Was the boss trying to kill him?

Seeing him hesitate, Morrison’s voice turned ice cold.

"Or should I just pull the security footage and watch it myself?"

Sean felt a chill crawl down his spine. He immediately stood straighter and confessed every single word—verbatim.

When he got to the part where Lilian called him ’cute’, Morrison’s face darkened.

When Sean admitted he’d called Lilian both ’cute’ and ’pretty’ in return, Morrison’s expression turned positively thunderous.

And when Sean casually mentioned calling Morrison ’the Demon King’, the temperature in the room dropped below freezing.

Then came the scolding. Morrison’s voice was low but dangerous.

"You think it’s appropriate to compliment someone else’s girlfriend like that?"

"You think it’s fine to have a cozy little chat with someone else’s girlfriend like that?"

"And you think calling your boss ’the Demon King’ is okay?"

Sean had no comeback. Not a single one.

In the end, he was kicked out of Morrison’s office, sternly warned to stay away from Lilian, and docked half a month’s salary as punishment.

Only then did the storm pass.

Back in his own office, Sean could only stare at the ceiling in despair.

Okay, maybe calling someone else’s girlfriend "cute" wasn’t the best idea.

But she said it first! He was just being polite and returning the compliment!

What, was he not even allowed to talk to a girl who happened to be dating someone else now? What was he supposed to do—pretend she didn’t exist?

As for calling the boss "Demon King"...

Yeah, okay. That one, he’d take the L.

Honestly, Morrison never used to be this petty.

Everyone in the company—from Sean to Norton to half the staff—had called him that behind his back. He’d always brushed it off as just harmless banter.

But this time, Morrison had nowhere to vent his frustration...

So Sean had become the poor scapegoat who got burned.

After finishing all the tedious onboarding procedures at HR and Finance, Lilian followed Norton back to Morrison’s office.

Inside, Morrison had just managed to calm down.

He stood by the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, coffee cup in hand, back to the door. Leisurely sipping, composed, and elegant.

His tall, lean frame stood out against the glass, broad shoulders tapering to a slim waist. The finely tailored black suit he wore clung to him with effortless perfection—putting even runway models to shame.

For some reason, Lilian suddenly recalled the feeling of being in his arms...

Warm. Steady. As if she was someone... treasured.

Morrison heard the door open behind him. He turned, saw her, and smiled faintly.

"All done?"

The storm inside him—his earlier rage toward Sean, the aggressive phone call that had won him that stubborn contract—had finally settled.

He was once again the confident, cocky Morrison everyone knew... the man who played life like a game he always won.

Lilian stepped forward, but stopped a few feet away from him.

She looked up, hesitant but determined.

"Can I... start work a few days later?"

Morrison raised an eyebrow, swirling the coffee in his cup lazily.

"Oh? Why?"

Lilian pulled out her best excuse—well, technically it wasn’t even a lie.

"My brother Dave arranged a trip for me and my mom. Kind of a graduation present. He said it’d be good for Mom to relax too."

She figured that if she brought up Dave and her mother Tiffany, Morrison couldn’t really say no—even if he wanted to. And anyway, the trip had been Dave’s idea.

Morrison had no comeback for that.

Once again, she left him so annoyed he didn’t even know how to be mad properly.

Finally, he just muttered through gritted teeth,

"Do what you want."

And just like that, Lilian got her temporary freedom.

She spent the next ten-plus days traveling with Tiffany, exploring new places, laughing more than she had in months, living without Morrison breathing down her neck.

During those ten days, Morrison never reached out. Not once.

But he already had a plan.

When her trip ended, he would go pick her and Tiffany up from the airport—under some random excuse.

And when he saw her again—if his heart still moved when he looked at her, then fine. He’d continue this ridiculous, infuriating, and completely addictive relationship.

But if he saw her, and felt nothing at all...

Then that would be the end.

He’d break up with her. For good.

Morrison had always respected his own feelings when it came to relationships.

If there was attraction, he’d explore it.

If there wasn’t—then no matter how amazing the person was, he’d never force it.

Just like Monna.

Beautiful, elegant, successful—on paper, she was everything a man could ask for.

But to him, she was... nothing more than a distant colleague.

There was no spark, no heartbeat quickening, no restless nights.

So he stayed away. Respectfully, but firmly.

Then there was Lilian.

She hadn’t messaged him even once during her trip.

He told himself he didn’t care.

But for some reason, every time his phone buzzed...

He hoped it was her.

Lilian hadn’t contacted him much during her trip—

Well, except for that one phone call asking for his shirt size.

And then another one, asking which European fashion brand he liked best.

Apparently, she was planning to buy him a gift.

Morrison had casually told her his shirt size.

As for the brand, he simply said, "Anything’s fine."

And he meant it. Morrison had never been picky about labels.

To him, the best brand was the one that fit him well—nothing more, nothing less.

Still, after hanging up, he couldn’t help it.

He started wondering.

What would she pick out for him?

A tie? A shirt? Cologne?

After spending so much time around her, this was the first time he’d felt like someone was truly thinking about him—on their own.

At least she had a bit of a conscience, he thought.

She hadn’t completely forgotten about him during her grand European vacation.

Meanwhile in Paris—the fashion capital of the world—Lilian was strolling down a boutique-lined street with Tiffany, taking her time window-shopping and soaking in the scenery.

When she spotted a sleek men’s shirt in a shop window, her first thought wasn’t her brother.

It was Morrison.

She still remembered the gift he brought her from his last business trip. She’d never had the chance to return the gesture.

So now seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Of course, she wasn’t about to admit she was buying it for Morrison.

When she called him, it was in secret.

To Tiffany, she casually said, "It’s for my brother, Dave."

Thankfully, Dave and Morrison were about the same build.

So using Dave as an excuse?

Totally believable.

And with that, she could shop freely—without raising suspicion.