Chapter 4: "The Secretary Wife"
503 Words
“Your job is simple,” Damian said on Monday morning.
He didn’t look at her. “Answer calls. Manage my schedule. Look like my wife.”
Aria sat at the desk outside his office. Glass walls. Everyone could see her.
“My job title?”
“Executive Assistant to the CEO.” He finally glanced up. “And Mrs. Hale.”
Right. The wife who works for her husband for free.
By 10AM, half the office knew.
By 11AM, the other half was pretending not to stare.
At 2PM, Mark from Marketing dropped by her desk.
“You’re new,” he said, leaning in. “I’m Mark. Want to grab coffee after work? I can show you around the city.”
Aria smiled politely. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Come on. One coffee won’t kill you.” His hand brushed her desk, close to hers.
The door to Damian’s office slammed open.
Damian didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.
“Johnson.”
Mark straightened instantly. “Sir?”
“My office. Now.”
30 seconds later, Mark came out pale.
“Uh... I got a transfer,” he mumbled to Aria. “Alaska. Starts Monday.”
Then he bolted.
Aria stared at Damian through the glass. He was already back on a call, like nothing happened.
At 6PM, she was the last one left. Packing up.
“Elevator,” Damian’s voice came from behind her.
They stepped in alone. Floor 70 to Lobby.
Silence.
Then the elevator jerked. Lights flickered.
Aria grabbed the railing. “What—”
“Power surge,” Damian said. Calm. He pressed the emergency button.
Nothing.
They were stuck. Between floors 30 and 29.
Aria laughed nervously. “Of course. My first week and I’m trapped with my fake husband.”
Damian leaned against the wall. Arms crossed. “You talked to Mark.”
It wasn’t a question.
“He asked me for coffee.”
“And you said yes?”
“I said no.”
The elevator was too small. Too quiet.
Damian’s cologne filled the space.
“You belong to me for the next 364 days,” he said quietly. “Remember that.”
Aria’s throat went dry. “Rule #3. No dating. I know.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He took a step closer. Not touching. But close.
“Other men don’t get to touch what’s mine. Even for coffee.”
The lights came back on. The elevator dinged.
Doors opened to a full lobby.
Damian walked out first. Didn’t look back.
Aria followed, heart pounding.
Because that didn’t sound like rule #3.
That sounded like rule #10 was already breaking.
---
At home, there was a box on her bed.
Inside: 10 new work dresses. All in her size. All expensive.
A note: _Wear these. - D_
She held up a black dress. Sleeveless. Professional.
And thought about the way he said "mine".
One week down. 51 to go.
This contract was going to kill her.
---
- Writer
