The CEO's Dirty Secret: Why the Billionaire Is Hiding?

Chapter 2: The Kindergarten Target

The silence between them at the bar was suffocating, heavy with the implication of shared history—or perhaps, a shared obsession. Rian’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, and before Ginting could demand an explanation, the man had spun on his heel and disappeared into the crowd, leaving nothing behind but the scent of expensive cologne and a sense of impending disaster.

The next morning, the neon lights and glass towers of Medan felt a world away.

Ginting stood at the edge of the Taman Beringin Kindergarten playground, gripping a mesh bag of multicolored plastic balls. His tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair was windblown. He wasn’t a corporate shark here; he was just the guy who fixed the broken shed and organized the afternoon snack rotation.

"Mr. Ginting! Mr. Ginting! The slide is stuck again!" a small voice shrieked.

Ginting laughed, heading toward the structure. "I’m on it, Leo. Stand back."

He knelt by the base of the plastic slide, wrenching a stray twig from the track. He didn’t notice the low-slung, matte-black sports car idling at the curb until the engine cut out with a sound like a predatory growl.

Rian stepped out of the vehicle, looking absurdly out of place in a crisp, tailored linen suit. He adjusted his sunglasses, scanning the playground with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

Ginting froze, his wrench hovering in the air.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Ginting muttered.

Rian sauntered toward the gate, his leather loafers crunching on the wood chips. "A little contrast in your life, Ginting? Trying to cultivate the 'good guy' image?"

Ginting stood up, blocking the path. "You’re trespassing, Rian. This is a private school."

"I’m just a concerned donor," Rian said, gesturing vaguely at the peeling paint on the fence. "I think the place could use a massive endowment. Maybe a new gym? State-of-the-art tech lab?"

"You don't care about the kids. What are you doing here?"

Rian ignored him, his eyes locking onto a woman kneeling by the sandbox. Elvina Tarigan wasn't wearing a power suit. She had her hair pulled back in a messy bun, and there was a smudge of blue finger-paint on her cheek. She was laughing, her voice light and melodic as she helped a toddler build a castle.

"That's her," Rian murmured, a flicker of genuine shock crossing his face. "The cold-hearted CEO of Tarigan Holdings is playing with dirt?"

"She’s a volunteer," Ginting said, his voice hard. "She comes here every Tuesday. It’s the one place where she isn’t thinking about your quarterly projections. Don’t ruin this."

"Ruin it? I’m here to elevate it." Rian pushed past him.

"Elvina," Rian called out, his voice smooth and projecting just enough to turn the heads of the nearby teachers.

Elvina froze, her hand still holding a plastic spade. She looked up, her expression shifting from maternal warmth to icy recognition. "Mr. Sitepu?"

Rian glided over, flashing a grin that had probably closed a dozen mergers. "I hope I’m not interrupting the... construction phase."

Elvina stood slowly, wiping her hands on her jeans. "You are. Why are you here, Rian?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about our conversation last night. I thought we both agreed that the office was a soul-sucking environment. I figured you might appreciate a change of scenery."

"This isn't a scenery change. It’s a kindergarten."

"Exactly. A place for simple minds. I have a helicopter prepped at Polonia. We could be in Berastagi for lunch in an hour. Real food, real people, not... whatever this is."

Elvina stared at him, her eyebrows arching high. "You think I want a helicopter trip to Berastagi?"

"I think you deserve more than this," Rian said, gesturing to the fenced-in play area. "Isn't this just a different kind of obligation? A different kind of cage?"

Elvina let out a short, sharp laugh. It wasn't the polite smile she’d given him at the gala; it was genuine, mocking amusement.

"Rian, look at you," she said, gesturing to his suit. "You’re sweating. Your shoes are ruined. You’re standing in a patch of mud you clearly despise."

"I can handle a little mud for a prize like you," he countered.

"A prize?" Her smile vanished. "You think I’m a line item on your ledger? You think because you bought a flashy car and know how to order the most expensive bottle of whisky, you have any idea who I am?"

"I know you’re bored," Rian insisted, though his confidence faltered as she stepped closer.

"I’m not bored. I’m happy," Elvina said. "This—this dirt, these kids, this reality—is the only thing I have that isn't bought and paid for by men like you."

"Ginting is exactly like me, Elvina. He’s just better at hiding it."

"Ginting is human," she snapped. "You’re just a suit with a wallet."

Rian’s jaw tightened. "I’m offering you a life of luxury. Everything you’ve worked to own, I can give you on a silver platter."

Elvina looked at his car, then back at him. "Do you see that car, Rian?"

"The GT-S? It’s a classic."

"It’s a loud, expensive compensation for a personality that doesn't actually exist," she said, her voice dripping with cold disdain. "It’s pathetic. And you, standing there in your three-thousand-dollar suit, look like a child trying to play grown-up in a world you don't understand."

Rian’s face reddened, the mask of the cool, collected shark cracking. "You’re making a mistake, Elvina. I can make your next acquisition very difficult."

"Is that a threat?" Elvina tilted her head, her voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper. "Because I haven't even started fighting you yet."

Ginting stepped forward, placing a hand on the gate. "Leave, Rian. Before she decides to bury you."

Rian glared at both of them, his eyes lingering on Ginting for a split second—a look of pure, unadulterated venom. He turned and walked back to his car, the gravel spraying as he accelerated away.

Ginting exhaled, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. "I’宁 sorry, Elvina. I didn't know he knew where I volunteered."

Elvina didn't look at him. She turned back to the sandbox and picked up the plastic spade.

"It doesn't matter, Ginting," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

"Are you okay?"

She stood up, her eyes wide and suddenly haunted, looking past the playground fence to the spot where Rian had stood.

"Ginting," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the children playing. "How did he know where I was? I didn't tell anyone."

Ginting’s blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"

"I’ve been coming here for three years," she said, her gaze fixed on the empty street. "And I’ve never been followed. Until today."

She turned to face him, her face pale.

"He wasn't just here to poach me, Ginting. He was here to prove he’s already inside."