The office looked even colder in the morning light.
Tall glass walls reflected the city skyline, every beam of sunlight swallowed by steel and shadow. I stood there in my fitted black dress, the silk fabric clinging to my frame like armor. If yesterday had been my undoing, today had to be my rebirth.
My marriage to Adrian Blackstone—the man who held my family's ruin in his palm—was less than twenty-four hours old, and already the world knew. Newspapers screamed the headlines:
"Blackstone Marries His Secretary."
"Contract Marriage or Love?"
"Heiress Turned Secretary, Now CEO's Wife."
Whispers followed me through the lobby like hounds. Every employee's gaze burned into my back as I walked past reception. I could hear them murmur:
"She's just the secretary. How did she catch him?"
"Do you think it's real? No way he loves her."
"She's nothing compared to his ex—"
I tightened my grip on my purse. My heels clicked on the marble, sharp and steady, even as my heart raced.
If I showed weakness now, I'd never survive.
When the elevator doors slid open, he was there—Adrian, standing like a king in his dark three-piece suit. Not a wrinkle dared touch his shirt, not a single strand of his raven-black hair out of place.
His eyes—those storm-gray eyes—landed on me, and the world seemed to shrink until only the two of us existed.
"Mrs. Blackstone," he said smoothly, his voice velvet over steel.
My jaw clenched. "Don't call me that in here."
His lips curved, a dangerous hint of amusement. "Why not? You are my wife. Or have you forgotten already?"
I stepped inside, the doors closing us in. The confined space seemed to thrum with unspoken tension. His cologne wrapped around me, expensive and dark, laced with something almost… predatory.
"I didn't forget," I said evenly. "But this is work. And in this office, I'm still your secretary. Nothing more."
He tilted his head, studying me like a puzzle he'd already solved. "If that helps you sleep at night, Elena."
The way he said my name made my chest tighten.
I hated him. I hated how calm he was while my life spun out of control. I hated the cruel smirk on his lips, the arrogance in his posture. And yet—
—I hated how my body betrayed me even more.
The elevator pinged. Saved by the bell.
We stepped into the executive floor, where the entire staff suddenly found reasons to stare. Secretaries froze mid-call, assistants paused mid-typing, and even senior managers lifted their heads as we walked past.
Adrian ignored them, his long strides purposeful, powerful. I followed, shoulders squared, matching his pace.
Inside his office, he finally turned. The heavy door clicked shut behind us.
"Sit," he ordered.
I bristled. "I'm not a dog."
His lips twitched—half irritation, half amusement. "Then stop baring your teeth and sit down, Elena."
For a moment, we simply stared at each other, the silence crackling with challenge. Then I sank into the chair opposite his desk, spine straight, eyes unflinching.
If he thought I'd cower, he was sorely mistaken.
He lowered himself into his chair with practiced grace, steepling his fingers. "There are conditions to this arrangement."
I crossed my arms. "You already own my freedom, Adrian. What more could you possibly demand?"
"Your performance," he said simply. "In this office, you will do your job as my secretary. In public, you will play the role of my wife. Convincingly."
"And what do you get out of it?" I asked bitterly.
His gaze hardened. "Control."
That one word chilled me.
"Control over me?"
"Control over the narrative," he corrected, though his eyes never left mine. "The board, the shareholders, the press—they'll all be watching us. Any slip, any weakness, will cost us both dearly."
"Us?" I laughed coldly. "You mean me. You've already destroyed everything I had. What more do I have to lose?"
He leaned forward, and suddenly the space between us was charged, electric. "Don't be naïve, Elena. You're not the only one trapped in this game."
For the first time, his mask cracked. Just a flicker—something darker, something broken, hiding beneath the marble perfection of Adrian Blackstone.
It unsettled me.
Before I could press, his phone buzzed. He answered with a curt, "Blackstone," then gestured for me to leave.
But I didn't move.
Instead, I stood and walked to the window, staring down at the city. The glass was cool under my fingertips, the world sprawling beneath me like a chessboard.
That's what this marriage was. A game of chess. And I refused to be anyone's pawn.
"Fine," I said over my shoulder. "I'll play my role. But don't expect me to obey."
When I turned, his eyes were on me again, unreadable, unshakable.
"Careful, Elena," he murmured after hanging up the call. "Defiance makes you look tempting."
My heart skipped.
I told myself it was anger. It had to be.
The morning crawled forward in silence, broken only by the click of my keyboard and the occasional low rumble of Adrian's voice behind closed doors. He was in meeting after meeting, ruling this empire of glass and steel like a monarch.
I thought marriage might change things—that suddenly, people would treat me differently. But as I passed through the executive hall with folders in hand, the whispers grew louder.
"She's still doing secretary work? Pathetic."
"Married to the boss and still a servant."
"I give it a month before he dumps her."
My nails dug crescents into the papers I carried.
I wanted to whirl around, to slice through their gossip with the truth—that I hadn't begged for this, that I hadn't sold myself for his money. But dignity was the only weapon I had left.
So I walked into the boardroom with my head high.
Inside, Adrian was already seated at the head of the long mahogany table, exuding effortless command. Around him sat half a dozen board members—men and women in expensive suits, their eyes sharp, calculating.
And then there was her.
Claudia Harrington. Senior executive. Brilliant, ruthless, and Adrian's rumored lover before me.
Her scarlet lips curved as she saw me. "Oh. The secretary joins us. How quaint."
I froze for a heartbeat, the sting sharp and cutting. But Adrian didn't flinch.
"Elena will be taking minutes today," he said, his tone clipped, unreadable.
Claudia's smile widened, venom hidden behind sugar. "Of course. How fitting."
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I forced myself to sit near the end of the table, pen in hand, ignoring the way their gazes stripped me bare.
The meeting began—numbers, forecasts, contracts. I scribbled, eyes fixed on the page. But Claudia's barbs kept landing, disguised as casual remarks.
"Perhaps we should keep this discussion simple enough for everyone to follow."
"Not everyone here understands corporate strategy, after all."
And once, with a glance that burned through me: "Some of us are here for merit, not… other talents."
My grip on the pen tightened until my knuckles turned white.
I wanted to scream. To tell her she had no idea what I'd endured, no idea how it felt to have everything stolen, only to be shackled to the man responsible.
Instead, I stayed silent. Until Adrian spoke.
"Elena," he said suddenly, his voice like a whip crack. "What's your take on the acquisitions report?"
Every head swiveled toward me.
My heart stopped.
He couldn't be serious. I wasn't supposed to speak in these meetings. I was supposed to be invisible.
Claudia's smirk grew razor-sharp. "Yes, Elena. Do enlighten us."
A trap. It had to be.
But Adrian's expression gave nothing away.
I swallowed hard, mind racing. I had read the report last night, hours after the chaos of the wedding. Not because I had to—but because I refused to walk into this company blind.
So I lifted my chin and spoke. "The Harrington merger looks profitable on the surface, but their debt ratio is masked by inflated projections. If we buy now, we inherit liabilities that could sink us within five years."
Silence.
Then a ripple of surprise swept through the room.
One man coughed awkwardly. Another blinked at his papers as if checking them again.
Claudia's smirk faltered.
Adrian leaned back in his chair, his storm-gray eyes locked on mine. "Continue."
I did. My voice steadied as I outlined figures, loopholes, and risks I'd spotted, the words flowing faster than I expected. Every eye was on me, but for the first time, it wasn't disdain. It was… respect.
When I finished, the room stayed quiet.
Then Adrian spoke. "Well done."
The two words hit me harder than they should have.
Claudia's nails scraped lightly against the table. "Impressive," she said sweetly. "For a secretary."
The venom was still there, but weaker now. Her dominance had slipped, if only slightly.
And I—I felt something ignite inside me. A spark I hadn't felt in years. Power.
The meeting ended, chairs scraping back, papers shuffled. The board members filed out, some giving me nods of acknowledgment. Small, but real.
Claudia lingered. She leaned close, her perfume cloying, her whisper sharp enough to cut. "Enjoy your little victory, darling. Adrian always tires of his toys."
My chest burned, but before I could retort, Adrian's voice cut through.
"Leave us, Claudia."
Her smile stiffened. She turned, heels clicking as she exited.
The door shut. Silence wrapped the room.
I stood frozen, pulse hammering. Then I turned on him. "Why did you do that?"
Adrian's gaze was steady, unreadable. "Because you're not just a secretary. And it's time everyone knows that."
I shook my head. "No. You set me up. You wanted me to fall."
"If I wanted you to fall," he said softly, dangerously, "I would have let Claudia devour you alive."
His words tangled inside me, sharp and confusing.
Before I could answer, he rose. Tall. Towering. Dangerous.
He walked toward me slowly, deliberately, until the space between us disappeared. My back hit the edge of the table, his presence caging me in.
"Do you know what you looked like in there?" he murmured.
My throat was dry. "What?"
"Untouchable." His eyes darkened. "And infuriatingly tempting."
My breath caught.
This was wrong. Every instinct screamed at me to push him away, to remind myself he was my enemy, my captor.
But his hand brushed against mine on the table—barely a touch, yet fire raced through me.
I clenched my fists. "Stay away from me."
His lips curved, slow and knowing. "If that's what you really want, Elena… why are you trembling?"
I shoved past him, gathering my papers in a frenzy. My heart was hammering so loud I could barely hear my own footsteps as I fled the room.
But his voice followed me, low and certain, threading into my veins like poison.
"You can't run from this, Elena. Not from me."