Oops I Banged the CEO novel Chapter 30

“Do you think this is a bit… awkward?” Yvonne hesitated, fully aware of the power and privilege that came with wealth.

One word from Marico, and someone would instantly handle everything for them.

Still, William was more than just an assistant—he was Marico’s right-hand man, a respected figure at the company.

Yvonne couldn’t help but worry their marriage might be exposed just like that.

“It’s fine, really. I’m guessing you’re not a fan of big crowds anyway,” she said softly, not pushing the matter. “I’ll just send over some of your favorite foods—I can cook for you.”

“Alright.” Marico unlocked his phone and handed it to her. “Find William’s number and tell him.”

He kept his eyes on the road, his expression as unreadable as ever, dark hair framing his sharp, handsome face. There was an effortless authority about him, the kind that came from years at the top.

“I’ll call… Mr. Hamilton, but didn’t we agree to keep our relationship private…? William is your assistant and—”

“He’s my closest confidant. He knows far more than you think.”

The meaning was clear: there was no need to hide anything from William.

Even so, Yvonne felt uneasy. William held real sway in the company, and here she was, a mere junior employee, about to give orders to the CEO’s trusted man.

“How about I make the call and you just tell him what you want?” she offered tentatively.

“Let’s just eat out, then,” Marico said flatly, clearly not in the mood for debate.

Yvonne thought that eating out sounded even riskier, so she steeled herself and dialed. She told William that they’d be having dinner at home and asked him to pick up some of Marico’s favorite ingredients and have them delivered.

“What about you? Is there anything you want? Tell William,” Marico said, glancing at her as they waited at a red light, his voice low and calm.

Yvonne blinked, caught off guard by the question. Her eyes, bright and clear, seemed momentarily lost. “I’m not really picky. I don’t have any particular favorites.”

After all these years of living off the kindness of others, she’d almost forgotten what she actually liked. Just having enough to eat had always been a luxury—choice was never an option.

“Then just order the most expensive stuff,” Marico replied, blunt as ever. He never agonized over choices—either he wanted everything, or he’d go for the best.

“Maybe send over some ribs… or pork knuckle? Do you eat organ meats?” Yvonne asked quietly.

She’d heard the saying: it’s easy to get used to luxury, but hard to go back. If she spoiled her palate now, would she struggle with simpler food later?

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