The Boss's Contract Wife

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The notification from our joint credit card popped up on my screen: a charge for ultra-thin 3mm condoms. I stood dead center in a lavish five-star hotel suite, staring at Caleb. My supposedly ambitious boyfriend was stark naked, sprawled out on the genuine leather bed belonging to Tinsleymy boss's fiance.

The shock hit so fast my lungs forgot how to work.

Julian and I stood in the adjoining room, the silence between us suffocating and thick, like the dead air right before a massive storm.

When Julian finally broke the quiet, his voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated through the room. "My fiance slept with your boyfriend."

He took a slow, deliberate step toward me, his dark eyes locking onto mine and trapping me in place. "To make things fair how about you sleep with me?"

My breath caught in my throat. Me?

Chapter 1

I suspected my boss's fiance was seeing someone on the side. The proof smacked me right in the face when I dropped off her delivery.

"My back is killing me, I don't want to move." Tinsley leaned against the suite's doorframe wearing a sexy silk robe. She smiled and told me to put the garment bag holding her limited-edition haute couture dress on the leather sofa in the living room.

Her hair was still damp, like she had just stepped out of the shower. Usually, she just had me leave her deliveries out in the hallway.

The second I stepped inside, the thick, heavy scent of sweat and musk hit me. Several torn wrappers were scattered on the floor near the trash can.

The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom, and through the frosted glass, I could clearly make out a man's silhouette.

My stomach dropped to my knees. Julian is here too?

Visualizing the R-rated scene that probably happened here ten minutes ago made bile burn the back of my throat. I dropped the bag on the sofa, spun on my heels, and took the elevator down to the underground parking garage. The doors slid open, and I slammed straight into a solid chest.

I snapped my head up. Julian?!

Julian paused, his dark brows furrowing slightly, but his large hands gripped my arms to steady me.

"Boss!" I scrambled back a step. "What are you doing here?"

He politely withdrew the hands that had been holding my waist. "Where else should I be?"

My brain stalled. He should be in the hotel bathroom, or on the bed, or on the sofa. But he couldn't possibly be standing in the basement parking garage just seconds later. If he was down here in the garage, who the hell was taking a shower in Tinsley's bathroom?

I swallowed hard and probed, "Are you heading up?"

"Yes. Why?"

"N-nothing."

The realization hit me like a freight train. Julian was getting cheated on. The ruthless, undefeated billionaire CEO who terrified the entire North American business world was getting played?

Thinking about the explosive, bloody scene of him catching them red-handed upstairs, my fight-or-flight instinct took over. I needed to run and get as far away from this blast zone as possible.

He eyed me, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. "In a rush? Got a date?"

"Yeah, Caleb is waiting for me."

His finger froze inches away from the elevator button. "How is the project progress report I asked you to prepare?"

"It's ready."

"Get in the car, then." He turned his back to the elevator and tossed me his keys. "Give me the briefing."

My jaw practically unhinged. "Weren't you going upstairs?"

"I was, but I've changed my mind."

I tried to hint as tactfully as I could. "Maybe you should still go up and check?"

He shot me a cold glare that practically dropped the temperature in the garage. "Are you the boss, or am I the boss?"

Me? Fine, you're the boss. You want to walk around with an invisible cuckold sign flashing over your head, that's your problem!

The second we got back to the office, we went straight into the boardroom. During the meeting, I kept staring at Julian. The secret burned a hole in my chest until I thought my ribs would crack open. I didn't even snap out of it until my supervisor called my name to present.

Julian tapped his silver pen against the mahogany conference table. "Maeve, you've been staring for quite a while. Is the answer written on my face?"

Muffled snickers broke out around the room. My cheeks burned. I quickly connected my phone to the projector and started my presentation.

Halfway through the briefing, a notification for a charge on our joint credit card suddenly popped up on the projection of my phone screen. When I saw the item descriptionUltra-thin 3mmwhite noise flooded my brain. Any breathing adult knew exactly what that was.

Panic spiked in my veins. I lunged forward and yanked the power cord out of the socket.

"Damn, Maeve's got wild plans with her boyfriend tonight!" someone hollered from the back.

The conference room erupted in howling laughter. My nails dug so hard into my palms they almost drew blood. I deleted the notification with trembling fingers, reconnected the screen, and rushed through the rest of the report. My face was practically on fire by the time I finished, bracing myself for Julian's feedback.

The rest of the team was still biting their lips, trying to stifle their giggles. Julian's face was terrifyingly dark. A rigid, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Maeve, Saturday Night Live is really missing out by not hiring you." He leaned forward, his voice dangerously soft. "I happen to know a few producers there. Should I write you a recommendation letter?"

He swept a chilling gaze over the room, freezing the laughter instantly. "And as for the rest of you, why even bother working here? You should all go be a live studio audience. You get to laugh and make money, don't you?"

Julian pushed his chair back so hard it slammed into the wall, and he stormed out of the room. Later, my supervisor informed me that Julian had HR issue me a formal written warning letter. The stated reason: shopping on my phone during a corporate meeting.

After the meeting finally ended, a bunch of my coworkers swarmed my desk, eager for gossip.

Chapter 2

"Maeve, aren't you and the boss high school classmates? Why does it seem like he has a vendetta against you? He's always targeting you."

"Right? Your presentation was flawless, you work your ass off, and he still only singles you out to punish."

"Did you sleep with him and then dump him or something?"

I almost choked on my own spit. "Him? I wouldn't sleep with him even if he came wrapped in a bow."

The moment the words left my mouth, a tall shadow fell over my desk.

"Who exactly is Maeve planning to sleep with?" Julian asked.

My blood ran cold.

Everyone instantly scattered back to their cubicles, aggressively typing on their keyboards. No one dared to breathe.

"It's a misunderstanding," I muttered.

Julian didn't say a word. He just slammed a stack of files onto my desk and walked away, his face carved from ice.

After he left, my pulse drummed against my ribs. Seven years apart, and he was just as terrifying. And I was just as terrified of him.

Julian was the student council president at our elite private high school. Back then, I handed him a love letter, and he completely ignored me in front of everyone. Seven years later, he flew back into the country and parachuted straight in as my top boss. And Tinsley, the girl who made my life a living hell for three years in high school, was now his fiance.

Reality wasn't a fairy tale. Cinderella didn't meet a prince to save her. Instead, the prince teamed up with the evil stepsister, and together they turned Cinderella into their personal slave.

Maybe I had cursed the universe so much that it finally opened its eyes. Because somehow, Julian was getting cheated on.

A little while later, my supervisor informed me that my perfect attendance bonus for the month had been completely revoked. The reason: gathering and chatting during company hours.

My coworkers couldn't help but pity me. "He's ruthless. Why are you so unlucky?"

They had no idea he had always been this ruthless to me. I still remembered that day in high school. I handed him that letter, and he stared down at me with that flawless face, issuing a lethal warning.

"If you ever dare to hand me another cheap love letter like this, I'll have my father cancel your full scholarship sponsorship, and you can pack up and get the hell out of this prep school."

My blood had turned to ice. I was the charity case his father's foundation was funding. After that day, I was so terrified I wouldn't even walk down the same hallway as him.

He hated me, so I hid. When he dropped into our company, I shrank my existence to zero, just trying to survive and collect my paycheck.

But as my rotten luck would have it, Julian needed a personal executive assistant, and my supervisor threw my name into the ring.

"You and the boss are old classmates! Your career is about to skyrocket. You should be thanking me!"

I wanted to strangle him. I didn't just have to serve Julian; I had to wait hand and foot on his fiance too. If the hazard pay wasn't so high, I would have quit on the spot. But thinking about my paycheck made me hesitate.

Should I tell Julian what I saw at the hotel today? Should I explain the half-conversation he just overheard? I chewed on it all afternoon. Finally, grabbing a stack of documents that needed his signature, I marched into Julian's office.

He was flipping through a file, not even sparing me a glance. I slid the papers onto his desk.

"I hear you're going around telling people you want to sleep with me?" he asked.

"That's a rumor!" I practically jumped out of my skin. "I have a boyfriend."

His expression darkened instantly. "You have a boyfriend, and you still don't know how to keep yourself in check?"

How was I not in check? If he hadn't walked away halfway through the conversation, he would know the context. I mean, sure, I admit the man was built like a Greek god, but I wasn't just throwing myself at anyone. I had standards.

"I'll go clarify right now that we are strictly high school classmates."

"Your supervisor recommended you by playing the 'classmate' card too. Or did you think I would let you take a shortcut just because of that connection?"

A shortcut? Nobody in the entire building wanted this assistant job!

"Then should I have him swap me out for someone else?"

"I don't want to overcomplicate things."

"Neither do I!" I was reaching my breaking point. "Honestly, if you hadn't come back, I would have completely forgotten you even existed in high school. Truly."

His dark eyes snapped up, pinning me in place. "Forgotten?"

"Yeah. It's been seven years. Human cells regenerate entirely every six years. How could I possibly remember?"

A low, dark chuckle escaped his lips. "You say you forgot, yet you keep such precise track of the timeline? You know it's been exactly seven years?"

Motherf What the hell was his problem?

Chapter 3

Thinking about it, besides his father's family foundation fully funding my tuition at that prep school, and me occasionally bringing over cheap, handmade cookies on Thanksgiving to express my gratitude, our only other interaction was that one time I handed him a love letter. I truly had no idea how I had offended him so deeply. Was it because handing him that letter thoroughly disgusted him?

I chewed on my lower lip. "Do you remember that love letter I gave you in high school?"

Julian watched me with dark, amused eyes. "You and your boyfriend clearly have wild plans tonight. Bringing up ancient history now what, am I a part of your roleplay?"

My blood boiled. "The presentation disaster today was my fault. I apologize. But that notification was my private business!"

"I have zero interest in your private business. As for the love letter, I rejected you years ago."

"What do you mean, rejected? You didn't even read it!"

"You snatched it back. How was I supposed to read it?"

My memory clicked. He had threatened to have his father cut my scholarship, and I had been so terrified I practically ripped the envelope out of his hands.

"I didn't write that letter. My friend told me to give it to you." I scoffed. "You didn't honestly think I had a crush on you, did you?"

I was just the damn messenger. I didn't just give one to him; I acted as a delivery girl for half the guys in our grade because my friend was boy-crazy. Did he actually hate my guts for seven years over a misunderstanding?

Julian's expression froze. His jaw ticked, and it took a long time before he finally dragged his gaze away.

"I'm not that easily bored." He aggressively scrawled his signature across the last document, shoved the stack toward me, and dropped a casual bomb. "Your boyfriend. Does he treat you well?"

The whiplash caught me off guard. I blinked. "He's fine."

"What does 'fine' mean?"

He was overstepping, massively. "He's mature, reliable, hard-working, and ambitious. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

His dark eyes locked onto mine. A sharp, unreadable emotion flashed in his gaze, but a second later, the icy mask was back in place.

"Is he? Is he really as great as you claim? With your lack of brainpower, don't dive in headfirst"

This guy was out of his mind. "Keep your nose in your own fiance's business and out of mine. I work for you. My boyfriend doesn't."

"As your employer, I'm simply reminding you not to put people on a pedestal. When it all blows up in your face, don't come crying to work and ruining my team's productivity."

Heat flushed my vision. "Julian, you and Tinsley really are a match made in hell."

"Excuse me?"

"You both get off on crushing people under your shoes. So sorry my existence offended your eyes for three years in high school. The files are signed. I'll get the hell out of your way."

I spun on my heels and marched toward the door. Fueled by blind rage, my high heel slammed violently into the heavy, solid oak frame of his office door. The heel instantly snapped, catching in the wood, and my ankle twisted with a sickening pop. A piercing, white-hot pain shot straight up my leg.

Cold sweat broke out across my forehead. Humiliated and refusing to make a sound, I limped back to my cubicle, buried my face in my arms, and let the tears silently stream down my face.

A minute later, a familiar, low voice echoed above me.

"What's wrong with her?"

"She came out of your office crying," my supervisor whispered.

"Crying?"

Julian's tall frame went rigid. He just stood there, frozen.

That night, I waited until the entire office cleared out before I dragged my throbbing ankle toward the elevator. As I hobbled past, I noticed the lights in Julian's corner office were still blazing.

Ruthless capitalist bastard. Working himself to the bone. I cursed his entire bloodline another eight hundred times before the elevator doors closed.

When I finally dragged myself into my apartment, I dialed Caleb's number to interrogate him about that credit card notification. The truth was, Caleb and I had been in a cold war for two weeks. When Julian originally demanded I become his executive assistant and wait hand and foot on his fiance, I refused. I wanted to quit.

I told Caleb my plan, pouring out everything about how Tinsley used to ruthlessly bully me. Instead of comforting me, Caleb immediately called my mother. He weaponized my family to pressure me into staying at the job.

Watching me finally cave, he dressed it up in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Maeve, I'm only doing this for your own good. We just bought a house together. Don't be childish."

Chapter 4

Caleb and I had been together since college graduation. We never signed a marriage certificate, but when the housing market took a dip recently, we pooled our resources and bought a place together. The astronomical joint mortgage chained us together. Neither of us could afford to be reckless.

But today, right in the middle of my executive presentation, that notification for those things popped up on the shared account. I had reached my absolute limit. I wanted to break up.

The phone rang endlessly before he finally picked up. His voice was gravelly, like he had just woken up.

I didn't waste time on pleasantries. "What the hell did you buy using our joint credit card?"

Dead silence on the other end. It took him a long time to process the confrontation. "Maeve, we just bought the house. I wanted to celebrate with you."

Two weeks of a bitter cold war, zero reflection, zero apologies, and his grand strategy for making peace was buying condoms to 'celebrate' with me?

"You can celebrate by yourself."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means we need to seriously reconsider this relationship."

He cut me off. "Maeve, I already pulled some strings and got your brother that alumni recommendation letter for his Ivy League application. It's done.

As for this breakup talk, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear it. Just calm down, okay?"

My breath hitched. My mother had been relentlessly pressuring me to beg Julian's father's foundation for help with my brother's application. I refused to be a charity case again and shot her down.

And Caleb somehow solved it? He knew exactly where to twist the knife. Sensing my hesitation, he struck while the iron was hot.

"I was wrong before. I didn't consider your feelings. I've missed you so much these past two weeks. Let me come over to your place right now, okay?"

"Don't come over."

"Oh. Okay. Call me if you need anything. My phone is on twenty-four seven just for you."

I ended the call. A barrage of texts flooded my screen a second later. I ignored every single one of them and stared at the ceiling until dawn.

First thing the next morning, my phone buzzed. It was Julian demanding my location for an urgent file. He sounded incredibly impatient.

Ten minutes later, his sleek SUV was idling outside my apartment complex. He ordered me to get in.

My brain was still buzzing from sleep deprivation as I started briefing him on the drive. When I finished, his dark eyes dropped to my ankle.

"What happened to your foot?"

"I twisted it."

There was no way in hell I was telling him the truth. If he found out I was limping because I tried to kick his solid wood office door, I would actually die of humiliation.

"Were you crying yesterday because of what I said?"

"Of course not!" I forced a bright, fake smile. "My cat died."

"You still love cats that much?"

I froze. Raising a cat? I could barely afford to feed myself.

He was talking about how I used to play with his family's expensive purebred whenever I went to his estate. The pathetic truth was, I was drowning in so much inferiority and awkwardness that nobody else wanted to talk to me. The cat was my only option.

Whatever. A filthy rich heir like him would never understand.

"I guess," I brushed him off, effectively killing the conversation.

When we pulled up to the corporate headquarters, my supervisor spotted me getting out of the CEO's car and practically threw his neck out winking at me. A second later, my phone buzzed with his text.

[ So, how is it? Working right next to the big boss must be incredible, right? ]

I stared blankly at the screen and typed back:

[ I want to die. ]

The next day, another text from him:

[ When you get promoted to the top, don't forget the little people. ]

I replied:

[ I want to die. ]

The day after that:

[ When are you sending me those presentation materials? ]

I replied:

[ I want to die. ]

Except, twenty minutes later, Julian, who was supposed to be out of state on a business trip, suddenly stormed back into the office. He immediately summoned me and my materials to his suite. Why the massive rush?

A fine sheen of sweat coated his forehead, like he had literally sprinted here. I grabbed the files and scurried into his office, bracing my shoulders for a brutal dressing down.

Instead, he just stood there staring at me for five agonizing minutes. Finally, he forced out a single, stiff sentence.

"Good job on this."

Me? It wasn't until much later that I checked my phone and realized my fatal mistake. I hadn't sent that last 'I want to die' text to my supervisor. I had sent it directly to Julian.

Ever since that catastrophic misfire, Julian's behavior took a bizarre turn. His moods swung like a pendulum. One second he would be tearing into me over a microscopic error, and the very next second, he would tightly clench his jaw, forcibly swallowing his rage.

"Forget it. Just get out. I need a minute to calm down."

I spent days racking my brain over it before realizing I wasn't the problem. It was Tinsley. Honestly, what man could maintain emotional stability knowing his fiance was cheating on him?

Chapter 5

A few days later, I dropped off another meal for Tinsley. She demanded I drive her to the corporate headquarters.

"Where's Julian? He never shows up, just sends you every day. What is that supposed to mean?"

"Take that up with him. I just work for him."

"Work for him?"

"Yeah."

She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Maeve, after all these years, are you and your mother still bloodsucking charity cases?"

Excuse me?

"Tinsley. First, I paid back every cent of Julian's father's scholarship money in college. Second, I didn't even know his family owned this company when I applied.

I earned this job. If spending the last few years abroad didn't teach you basic human decency, you can get the hell out of my car."

"Hilarious." Tinsley scoffed.

"Everyone knows this company only hires Ivy League grads. How exactly did you get in? If Julian's father hadn't pulled strings, your resume would have gone straight into the shredder."

"The job listing required a bachelor's degree."

"And you actually bought that." Tinsley pulled out a designer lipstick and popped the cap. "I'm just giving you a friendly warning.

Don't think being Julian's little assistant gives you a shot at some pathetic Cinderella fantasy. He and I are getting married soon. Didn't he tell you?"

"Why would he tell me? It's not like I'm the bride."

Her hand jerked. A streak of crimson lipstick smeared across her cheek.

"Maeve, you really are a delusional bitch! The bride? How dare you even think it?" Tinsley shrieked.

"Watch me. I'll make him fire your pathetic ass today."

I slammed my foot on the brakes. Tinsley pitched forward, smashing her freshly painted face right into the back of the passenger seat.

"Then go tell him to fire me."

Half an hour later, Tinsley was holding court in Julian's executive suite, playing the perfect billionaire's fiance. While Julian was stuck in a board meeting, she strutted around handing out expensive artisan pastries to the team, chatting everyone up and putting on a sickeningly sweet show.

"God, I honestly thought the Devil himself didn't even like women," a coworker whispered. "And now he's getting married."

"Tinsley is old money too," another chimed in. "A perfect match for the boss. The ultra-rich only play with the ultra-rich."

The gossip fired back and forth around the room. I kept my mouth shut and stared at my monitor. Suddenly, a loud gasp broke the chatter. One of the junior analysts had accidentally dropped a pastry right onto Tinsley's designer heels.

"Miss Tinsley! Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I'll wipe it off for you!"

The analyst practically dropped to her knees, but Tinsley grabbed her arm and pulled her back up with a gracious smile.

"No, no. It's completely fine."

"But they're ruined"

Tinsley's eyes cut through the room and locked straight onto me. "Maeve, you do it. Come wipe my shoes clean. You were always so good at this in high school."

Adrenaline kicked my heart against my ribs. Back in our prep school days, she and her rich little clique loved forcing me to wipe the mud off their shoesand I had to use my own uniform to do it.

I had been a terrified, broke scholarship kid. I had no choice but to take it. Years later, she was still the exact same venomous snake.

"Well? Come wipe them. Or do you want to lose your job?" Tinsley smirked, marching over and planting her dirty heel straight onto the seat of my office chair.

I snapped. "Tinsley, back the hell off."

"You're my fianc's assistant. You're basically a twenty-four-hour glorified maid. This is your job."

"A maid?" A cold, hard laugh ripped from my throat.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

"Nothing. Just remembering a crazy little ghost story." I stepped into her space, leaning directly into her ear.

"That day at the hotel? You told me your man was in the shower. But what a crazy coincidenceI bumped into Julian in the parking garage right after.

Should I go ask the boss what happened? Do you think your suite is haunted?"

Tinsley's face drained of all color. "What kind of garbage are you making up?"

"Sure. Let's say I'm making it up."

She dug her manicured nails into my arm and violently yanked me into a corner. "If you breathe a single word of this, I will absolutely destroy you."

I met her furious glare with a dead-eyed smile. "If I'm making it up, why are you shaking? Got some dirty little secret you're trying to hide?"

"Maeve, I am warning you." She hissed, her voice vibrating with panic.

"If you try to poison him against me, I will make sure your life is a living hell. Do you hear me?"

Chapter 6

"I believe you. But if you piss me off again, if I'm going down, I'm dragging you straight to hell with me."

I yanked my arm out of her grip and walked away. Did she really think I was still afraid of her? I had already made up my mind on the drive over.

If she pushed me to the edge, I would take the mutual destruction. I'd slam the evidence of her cheating right in her face and see how arrogant she could be then.

I got back to my desk, stared at the expensive matcha pastry she had handed out, picked up a heavy metal letter opener, and sliced it right down the middle.

"You know, it's funny how much you love fake, artificial things. Fake friends in high school, artificially colored pastries now. I guess cheap, imitation garbage just suits your aesthetic."

Tinsley's jaw locked, her eyes practically vibrating with rage. "Maeve, you"

I didn't even bother looking at her. I scraped the sliced pastry straight into the trash can. The moment I looked up, I froze.

Julian was standing right there.

Panic seized my chest. I shrank back. In high school, I was terrified he'd have his father cut my scholarship.

Now, I was terrified he'd fire me. I really was as spineless as ever.

Tinsley's face shifted into a triumphant, sickly sweet smile, and she lunged toward him. "Julian!"

The romantic embrace she expected never happened. Julian raised a stiff hand, physically blocking her from touching him. His face was carved from ice.

"What are you doing here?"

Tinsley's smile cracked for a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovered, forcing a laugh and aggressively wrapping her arms around his bicep. "We're having dinner at your grandfather's estate tonight, did you forget?"

Julian didn't even look at her. Instead, his dark eyes cut straight to me. He forcibly ripped his arm out of her grip, stepping back as if she were a walking disease.

"Did I say I was going?"

Tinsley swallowed hard, the humiliation suffocating the air around her. "Are you busy, Julian? I can wait for you to finish."

Second-hand embarrassment made my skin crawl. Julian completely ignored her existence. He dropped two words into the freezing silence.

"Come here."

He was looking right at me. Me? I jolted, my eyes going wide. Was he actually going to fire me right now?

I swallowed the lump in my throat and followed him into his suite, bracing myself for a bloodbath. I'd expose Tinsley's cheating, I'd threaten Julian to keep my mouth shut in exchange for my jobwhatever it took.

I wasn't going down without a fight. In the heat of the moment, I wanted to quit, but reality was a cold bitch, and my massive bi-weekly paycheck was too good to lose.

The second the heavy oak doors clicked shut, Julian shoved a glossy dossier into my hands.

"There's a business dinner for a joint venture tonight. Review the files."

Wait. He wasn't firing me? He was taking me to a business negotiation?

"Boss, I'm just an executive assistant. I don't negotiate deals"

"Didn't you minor in French in college?"

"The counterparty is a representative from a top-tier French luxury conglomerate."

That made sense. Wait. How the hell did he know I minored in French?

His dark eyes narrowed slightly, reading my mind. "It was on your resume."

Oh.

When Julian led me back out of the suite, Tinsley's eyes practically bulged out of her skull. "Julian, bringing an outsider to a family dinner at the estate isn't appropriate, is it?"

"Who told you I was going to the estate?" His voice was lethally calm. "And don't ever come to the corporate office for personal matters again. This is a workplace, not your personal runway."

Tinsley's expensive heels stamped violently against the marble floor. "You're not going? Then what am I supposed to do?"

Julian shot me a look, signaling me to follow him. "Go back to wherever you came from."

Tinsley's face drained of every ounce of blood.

The second I slid into the passenger seat of Julian's Maybach, a call blasted through the car's Bluetooth system. It was Tinsley. Her hysterical voice echoed through the enclosed cabin.

"Julian! I don't fucking need you! You are way out of line!"

My knuckles turned white as I gripped my phone. In the driver's seat, the chauffeur's grip on the steering wheel audibly tightened. Julian didn't even flinch.

He didn't let her finish her tantrum. He just reached out and brutally killed the call.

The sheer, terrifying coldness radiating off him proved exactly why the entire industry called him the Devil. The dead silence in the car only lasted a few seconds before my own phone vibrated violently in my palm.

Tinsley ordered me to order two premium Tomahawk steak dinners for her tonight, and have them delivered to her presidential suite. Staring at the screen, a cold shock washed over me.

This was a blatant, unapologetic provocation. I was sitting right next to Julian in his own car. Was she seriously not afraid that I would just shove the phone in his face?

I deliberately left the screen glowing on the luxury steakhouse reservation page. From his angle, Julian could easily see it. He kept his head down, flipping through his files as if nothing had happened.

"Boyfriend?"

"Huh?"

I froze. I never expected him to completely misunderstand the situation.

Chapter 7

He saw me booking a dinner for two and actually thought it was for my boyfriend and me. I sat in the passenger seat, my chest tight with a suffocating knot of frustration. But with a massive joint venture negotiation looming ahead, I shoved the fury down and temporarily shelved my plan to expose Tinsley's cheating.

He looked up from his files, his dark gaze locking onto me with an unreadable shift in his demeanor. "How long have you been dating?"

"Two years."

A cold, sharp scoff tore from his throat. "Two years and no plans to get married? Aren't you terrified of ending up with nothing but wasted time?"

"Actually, we are. We're getting married at the end of the year."

The temperature in the car plummeted. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered near his ear. "Is that so?"

I don't know if it was a trick of the passing streetlights, but the ruthless aura around him seemed to crack, leaving something stark and hollow in its place. Staring at his rigid profile, a twisted knot of pity actually formed in my gut.

So what if he looked like a Greek god? So what if he was a billionaire? He worked himself to the bone, building an empire, only for another man to reap the benefits behind his back.

A heavy sigh slipped past my lips. I couldn't help but drop a careful hint. "Boss, if you have the time you really should go check on that hotel suite."

I couldn't spell it out for him. He needed to see the cheating with his own eyes. I wasn't about to paint a target on my own back without hard proof.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" His voice was low, dangerous.

"Just you two had a pretty explosive fight earlier. Is everything really okay? I mean, everyone says you guys are getting married."

"Who told you that?"

"The entire company knows?"

"Is that why your career is stagnating? Because you spend your entire day focusing on office gossip instead of doing your actual job?"

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from cursing him out. Ruthless, ungrateful bastard.

The French representatives turned out to be surprisingly cordial. I was rigid at first, my eyes darting to Julian before every single translation. But as the dinner dragged on, I realized Julian was letting me take the wheel, his silence granting me absolute control over the dialogue. I finally let my guard down and hit my stride.

Towards the end of the night, the French executives loosened up and the conversation inevitably drifted into personal territory.

"Mr. Julian, rumors say you've been in love with the same woman for years and are about to be married. I presume the lucky bride-to-be is the stunning lady sitting right beside you?"

My heart slammed against my ribs. This guy had definitely consumed too much wine. I quickly turned my head toward Julian and fed him a blatant lie.

"He says you and Tinsley make a perfect match."

Julian held my gaze for a long, suffocating second before giving his command. "Tell him marriage is a long way off."

Me? What kind of chaotic response was that? It didn't match my fake translation at all.

The French representative chuckled and pressed further. "Ah, haven't managed to win her heart yet?"

Julian's dark eyes never left my face. His voice dropped an octave, heavy with a raw, unfamiliar gravity. "She doesn't like me."

My lungs forgot how to work. Did Julian already know Tinsley was cheating on him?

The joint venture negotiations concluded flawlessly. By the end of the night, the French representative had opened an exorbitant bottle of Domaine de la Romane-Conti, and Julian had consumed his fair share. The alcohol bled the color from his face, leaving a pale, sharp exhaustion in its wake. I had only downed two or three glasses, but a dizzying buzz already clouded my brain.

When the dinner wrapped up, our entourage escorted the French executives back to their hotel to rest. That was when reality slapped me in the face. Their accommodations were booked at the exact same five-star hotel where Tinsley was staying. Hell, they were even on the same executive floor.

Maintaining impeccable business etiquette, Julian personally escorted them all the way up to their suites. The second the elevator chimed and my heels hit the thick carpet of that executive floor, my nervous system went into overdrive.

Halfway through dinner, Tinsley had bombarded my phone, demanding I order late-night room service for two, plus a six-pack of imported beer. I had deliberately ignored the texts. But if she was ordering for two, there was a massive chance she had dragged her side piece back into her suite.

Julian catching Tinsley red-handed was inevitable, and frankly, karma. But right here? Right now?

Surrounded by top-tier international executives? If they all witnessed the ruthless billionaire CEO getting publicly cuckolded, it would be a catastrophic PR nightmare. The entire joint venture could implode overnight.

The French representatives had repeatedly emphasized how the upcoming corporate merger between Julian and Tinsley's families solidified their trust in this partnership. A cold sweat broke out across my spine. Just as my panic hit a fever pitch, Julian abruptly stopped dead in his tracks.

The silence in the hallway was deafening.

"Is Tinsley staying at this hotel?"

"Ah? Yes."

"Room number."

"Suite 6607."

The air turned painfully thin. I couldn't read the dark, volatile storm brewing in his eyes, but my palms were completely slick with sweat.

"It's right down the hall." A slow, chilling smile curved his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I gave it some thought. Didn't you say I should go check on her? I think I'll go say hello."

Chapter 8

Are you kidding me? Out of all the moments to play detective, you pick the exact second we are flanked by top-tier French executives?

"H-how about we escort these gentlemen to their suites first before saying hello?" I stammered, my voice barely holding together.

Julian looked down at me, a dark amusement playing on his lips. "Why are you shaking?"

Shaking? I was about to lose my damn mind.

He didn't wait for an answer, just kept walking forward down the plush carpet. I trailed behind him, my knuckles turning white as I gripped my phone, frantically debating whether to shoot Tinsley a warning text. But then the sheer absurdity of the thought hit mewhy the hell would I protect my high school bully's cheating scandal? I really was losing it.

Watching Julian's broad shoulders stop right outside Suite 6607, the oxygen in my lungs evaporated. Just as he raised his knuckles to rap against the heavy oak, he suddenly tilted his head toward me.

"Forget it. We'll do it your way."

The whiplash almost gave me an aneurysm. "Okay."

You two toxic billionaires wage your little domestic wars and torture an innocent bystander like me. Real heroic. After Julian finally got the French executives settled into their respective suites, he leaned back against the hallway wall, his sharp gaze pinning me in place.

"Why are you sweating so much?"

"It's hot in here."

He offered a low, vibrating chuckle, watching me in silence for an agonizingly long time. My skin crawled under his intense scrutiny.

"Are you having your driver take you home, or are you going to her suite?" I blurted out, desperate to break the suffocating tension.

"To hers." He pushed off the wall and strode straight for Suite 6607.

I had no choice but to follow. But right at that exact second, room service arrived. The heavy door of 6607 clicked open.

A man's hand reached out from the darkened room to grab the paper bags. A heavy mechanical watch gleamed under the hallway sconces.

My eyes locked onto the silver dial. It looked sickeningly familiar. World War III was about to detonate, and my nerves were pulled taut.

I whipped my head around to gauge Julian's reaction, only to realize he wasn't even looking at the door. His pitch-black gaze was locked entirely on me.

"Leaving?" he asked.

"Yeah." Leaving was an understatement. I wanted to sprint out of this blast zone before the shrapnel hit me.

"Is your boyfriend picking you up?"

"I'm calling an Uber."

"It's late. He's fine with you going back alone? Aren't you terrified of the dark?"

"That's a joke. I'm a grown woman. Why would I be afraid of the dark?"

A sharp scoff cut through the quiet hallway. "So tough. Then who was it trailing behind me every single night after late study hall back in prep school?"

My breath caught. Back in high school, the walk from the bus stop to my rundown neighborhood wasn't exactly safe. Even though I knew Julian hated my guts, I brazenly shadowed him just to make it home in one piece.

"We walked in the same direction. Are you really holding a grudge because I walked behind you?"

He shot me a heavy look, a low sigh escaping his lips. "Right. The exact same direction. Across half the damn city."

My brain stalled, failing to compute his words.

"Call him. Tell him to pick you up," Julian ordered.

"Julian, you are acting insane tonight. Back off." The truth was, I didn't want Caleb anywhere near me. Our cold war was still raging, and the knot in my chest hadn't untangled.

A dark, cynical laugh ripped from Julian's throat. He pulled out a sleek silver lighter and a cigarette, snapping the flame to life.

"Back off? Or do you just not have a boyfriend at all?" He exhaled a cloud of gray smoke. "Making up an imaginary boyfriend are you still trying to get my attention?"

Motherf I usually didn't fall for cheap bait. But watching Julian blow out a drag of smoke, staring down at me with that untouchable, arrogant god complex of his, completely snapped my restraint. I ripped my phone out of my purse and dialed Caleb's number right in front of his face.

"Clean the wax out of your ears and listen."

Julian smirked, leaning closer. "I'm all ears."

The line rang exactly once before Caleb instantly sent it to voicemail.

Julian pinched the bridge of his nose with his cigarette hand, letting out a low, mocking chuckle. "Your boyfriend loves you so much he's dodging your calls?"

My competitive streak flared into a blinding, irrational rage. I aggressively hit redial. This time, the line finally connected.

Just as I opened my mouth to shove the ringing phone right into Julian's arrogant face, the heavy oak door of Suite 6607 swung wide open. A man stepped into the hallway. He was wearing a plush, white hotel bathrobe, clutching his glowing phone to his ear.

"Maeve"

Caleb?! What the hell was he doing in 6607?

Static roared in my ears, erasing every thought in my brain. My breath froze.

A large, impossibly hot hand clamped around my wrist. Julian yanked me toward the adjacent suite.

The sharp beep of a keycard. The door flying open. He shoved me inside, the heavy wood slamming shut behind us, instantly cutting off the world.

Through the receiver still pressed to my ear, Caleb's sickeningly gentle voice oozed through the speaker.

"Maeve, baby, what's wrong? Why aren't you saying anything? Did something happen? You're scaring me."

Chapter 9

Caleb's voice echoed through the massive, empty suite. It was sharp. Grating.

The alcohol I drank earlier slammed into my system all at once, mixing with the sheer, blinding panic. My stomach violently revolted.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, sprinting to the marble bathroom, and threw up until my ribs ached. I leaned heavily against the cold sink, my voice completely hollow as I lifted the phone.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at home, baby. I was just in the shower, couldn't pick up."

Right as the lie left his mouth, a muffled, distinctly female voice drifted through the receiver.

"You bastard my back is killing me"

My lungs seized. Before Caleb could spin another excuse, a large hand reached over my shoulder and brutally killed the call.

Julian tossed my phone onto the vanity. His pitch-black eyes locked onto mine in the mirror. "That's the man you're marrying?"

"Who the hell gave you the right to hang up?" I spun around, furious. I wanted to rip Caleb's pathetic, lying face right off.

He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "You wanted to listen to a live broadcast of them screwing?"

"That's my damn business. Back off!"

"Hilarious. You clearly didn't process who he's with right now, yet you're telling me it's not my business?"

The sheer volume of twisted information short-circuited my brain. Every guy I ever liked ended up obsessed with the very girl who made my life a living hell.

The betrayal felt like a physical weight crushing my lungs. And to think I pitied Julian ten minutes ago. I was the clown.

I sucked in a jagged breath. "I'm going to find him."

Julian blocked the doorway. "To do what? Scream at him? Throw a punch?"

He stepped closer. "Who do you think your fianc will protect? You, or his first love?"

I froze. "First love?"

"Tinsley played with a guy in college just to piss me off. Word was, he almost killed himself when they broke up. But she never gave a damn about some broke kid.

She dumped him the second she went abroad." Julian's voice was completely devoid of warmth. "Your devoted boyfriend is that pathetic loser."

Julian reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a thick stack of glossy photographs, and tossed them onto the counter. My eyes dropped. Caleb and Tinsley.

Twisted in the sheets. Explicit. Unforgiving.

The mature, stable, ambitious man I had been building a life with was nothing but Tinsley's disposable toy. Julian had known this entire time. My reality completely shattered.

"Now." Julian's voice dropped. "Let's chat. Your boyfriend is sleeping with my fiance. What are you going to do about it?"

"What am I going to do?" A bitter laugh tore from my throat. "Your fiance stole my man. You should be the one giving me an explanation."

Compared to my total meltdown, he was terrifyingly calm. "Let's rephrase. How does it feel having your best friend steal your boyfriend?"

"Best friend?" I scoffed. "Are you insane?"

"Weren't you two inseparable in high school? You followed her everywhere, even to the bathroom."

I let out a sharp, broken laugh. "I followed her to the bathroom because it was easier for her to slap me across the face where the teachers couldn't see. Are you satisfied now? You knew."

I stared at him, my voice trembling. "You knew they were sleeping together this whole time. But you played dumb.

You let me look like a total idiot, feeling sorry for you." I swallowed the massive lump in my throat. "If your entire goal was to watch me hit absolute rock bottom Congratulations. You won."

The dam finally broke. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks.

Julian's towering frame suddenly went rigid. "She hit you?" The casual arrogance completely vanished from his eyes. "I didn't know."

He suddenly stepped into my space, closing the distance between us. His large, warm thumb brushed against my cheek, wiping away a tear.

The touch sent a violent jolt down my spine. "Do you want to get back at them?"

I stared at him, my mind spinning. What twisted game was he playing now? "How?"

"Use me."

"Use you how?"

"I failed to keep my fiance in check. That's on me. You can get revenge however you want. Use me to get back at them."

Julian violently ripped off his silk tie, tossing it to the floor. His dark, consuming eyes locked onto mine, stripping me bare. "I'm drunk anyway. Do whatever you want to me."

"Whatever I want?" Blind, destructive rage hijacked my senses. I fisted my hands into the crisp collar of his dress shirt and violently shoved him backward onto the plush velvet sofa.

He didn't even try to resist. He just collapsed back against the cushions, looking up at me with a lazy, wicked smirk, fully surrendering himself to my mercy. He was definitely completely trashed.

"My fiance slept with your boyfriend," his voice was a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated in the quiet room. "To make things fair you can sleep with me