My possessive actor husband

SPILLING THE DEETS

Vivienne The soft, heavy click of the apartment door closing behind Vivienne felt like the official end of a fever dream, but the sheer velocity of her spiraling thoughts didn't slow down for a second as she dropped her keys onto the entryway table. She let out a long, ragged breath, her shoulders dropping three inches the moment the familiar, slightly mismatched scent of the cramped living room hit her, realizing only just then how suffocatingly intense the air inside that Mansion had actually been. Kiara’s head snapped up from the couch, her thumbs freezing mid-scroll over her glowing phone screen as her eyebrows knit together in immediate suspicion. "You're back already?" she asked, swinging her legs around to sit upright. "I literally dropped you off at the corporate tower this morning, Viv. I thought this was supposed to be a grueling, all-day onboarding nightmare." Vivienne slid her heavy leather folder onto the kitchen table, running a hand through her hair as she tried to anchor herself back into reality. "It was supposed to be." That was all it took to ignite Kiara's radar. She straightened up like a bloodhound catching a scent, her dark eyes lighting up with that predatory best-friend curiosity that meant Vivienne wasn't escaping without a full, detailed deposition. "Okay, wait. That tone means something completely insane happened. Spill it right now. How is the new gig? Did they overload you already, or was it just standard corporate brainwashing?" Vivienne hesitated, her feet feeling heavy as she walked over and slowly lowered herself onto the opposite cushion of their worn-out sofa, staring blankly at the coffee table. "It was... entirely outside the realm of normal," she said carefully, choosing the most understated words she could find. Kiara’s grin widened by a mile. "Oh, I love 'not normal.' Not normal means drama, and drama means entertainment. Start talking." Vivienne exhaled another slow breath, looking her friend dead in the eye. "I met him, Kiara. Today." Kiara blinked once, the theatrical excitement pausing for a fraction of a second. "You met your mysterious boss already? On day one?" "Yes." "Okay, wow, that is incredibly fast for a guy who apparently hides behind a wall of suits," Kiara murmured, leaning in so close her eyes practically beamed with curiosity. "So, give me the raw, unedited version. What is the man actually like?" Vivienne paused, the image of him standing under the harsh lights of his private home gym—broad shoulders, wrapped hands, and an unblinking gaze that felt like a physical weight flashing vividly behind her eyelids. "Very... direct. Cold. He doesn't waste energy on standard human pleasantries." Kiara nodded sagely, entirely unfazed. "Classic rich-guy energy. They pay for the right to skip the small talk. Keep going." "Tessa gave me zero instructions, just a calendar, so I had to piece together where he was on my own," Vivienne explained, the lingering adrenaline making her voice sound tighter than she intended. "I tracked him down to a private home gym at this massive cliffside mansion. When I walked in, he didn't even bother to greet me. He just demanded to know who I was before I could even introduce myself." "And you said?" "I told him I was his new personal assistant, clean and simple." Kiara nodded approvingly. "Good. Assert dominion early. Don't let them smell fear." "Yeah, well, my dominion lasted about two seconds because he looked right at me and said he didn't remember hiring me." Kiara paused, her expression turning sharp. "Hold on. That is beyond rude. Did you tell him his manager is the one who handed you the golden contract this morning?" "Of course I did," Vivienne said, rubbing the back of her neck. "The second I mentioned Tessa's name, he practically accepted it, but he still stared at me like I was a bizarre alien specimen that had somehow breached his security perimeter." A massive smirk spread across Kiara’s face. "That's just standard billionaire hazing, Viv. They always act like you're an inconvenience until you prove you're useful. Then what?" "Then he told me to stay and assist while he finished his training." Kiara’s eyes danced with absolute mischief, and she let out a delighted giggle. "So you just stood there like a creep, watching this incredibly wealthy man sweat and punch things?" "I did not just stand there watching him work out," Vivienne fired back defensively, heat rising to her cheeks as she remembered exactly how mesmerizing those disciplined, powerful movements had actually been. "Oh, please, you absolutely did," Kiara laughed, tossing a throw pillow at her knees. "I didn't!" Vivienne scoffed, swatting the pillow away. "I was actively reviewing his schedule. I even called him out on his next production meeting, and then... I asked him a question." Kiara leaned forward again, the playful teasing vanishing as she picked up on the sudden shift in Vivienne's posture. "Oh? What kind of question?" "I asked why he chose my resume out of the hundreds of perfect applicants," Vivienne murmured, the memory of the heavy, sudden silence that followed making the hairs on her arms stand up. "He stopped everything. He dropped his hands, turned around, and just... dissected me with his eyes for what felt like an eternity." Kiara tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly. "Okay, that sounds a little intense. What did he actually say?" "He asked if I really didn't know who he was." "Well, that's incredibly dramatic," Kiara muttered, rolling her eyes. "A classic ego trip." "Exactly. Then he told me to cancel his afternoon meeting, gave me a cryptic warning about showing up even earlier tomorrow, and told me not to disappoint him before essentially kicking me out of his house." "Your new boss sounds like an absolute joy killer," Kiara sighed, leaning back against the cushions. "I know, right?" Vivienne groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. "What a total jerk." "What's his actual name anyway?" Kiara asked casually, her interest seemingly satisfied as she picked her phone back up and began scrolling through her notifications again. Vivienne hesitated for a second, realizing she hadn't actually spoken the name aloud yet to anyone. "Umm... Henry. Henry Cage." The reaction was instantaneous. Kiara’s head snapped up with such violent force it looked like she might give herself whiplash. The phone in her hand slipped, clattering loudly against the glass coffee table as she stared, her face completely draining of color. "Wait, what? Who did you just say?" Vivienne blinked, thoroughly confused by the sudden, dramatic shift in her friend's energy. "Henry Cage... Yeah. Why are you looking at me like I just confessed to a crime?" There was a brief, agonizing silence where the only sound in the apartment was the hum of their old refrigerator. Then, Kiara’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, the information finally registering in her brain with the force of a freight train. "Henry Cage?" she repeated, her voice pitching an octave higher with every syllable. "As in the Henry Cage? global superstar, Henry Cage?" Vivienne frowned, her chest tightening slightly. "Yes... again, yes. Why is this a national emergency?" Kiara stood up so fast the couch groaned, pointing a trembling finger at Vivienne as if she needed to verify that she was actually a real person standing in her living room. "No, no, no. Shut up. You are not serious right now. Vivienne, tell me you are joking." "I am completely serious," Vivienne replied slowly, her defensive walls rising up as she looked at her friend's wild expression. "I met him today, signed the paperwork, and came home. Why are you losing your mind?" Kiara stared at her in absolute, paralyzing shock. "You met Henry Cage today, the man the paparazzi spend millions trying to photograph, and you just walked back into our apartment like you just finished a shift at a grocery store?!" Vivienne tilted her head, genuinely annoyed. "He is my employer, Kiara. He's the guy signing the check that pays off my dad’s medical bills. That's it." "That is not 'just your boss,' Vivienne!" Kiara started pacing the length of their tiny rug, her hands flying wildly through the air. "That is Henry Cage! People don't just get assigned to him by a temp agency and strike up a casual conversation while he's wrapping his hands!" Vivienne watched her pace, the first real seeds of anxiety finally planting themselves deep in her stomach. "It's still just a job, Kiara. A very well-paying, high-stress job." Kiara stopped dead in her tracks, whirling around to face her with a look of profound disbelief. "Vivienne, do you even comprehend the words coming out of your own mouth right now?" Vivienne stayed entirely quiet, suddenly feeling very small on their cheap sofa. "You are officially working for one of the most fiercely private, completely unreachable public figures in the entire country," Kiara said, her voice dropping to a harsh, intense whisper as she pointed at her again. "You found him on your first day without an address and looked him face-to-face in his own home. You are either the luckiest girl alive or you are completely, clinically insane." Vivienne shrugged lightly, trying to minimize the weight of it all, though her heart was beginning to hammer against her ribs. "That's just what happened. I didn't plan it." Kiara shook her head slowly, a mixture of awe and residual panic settling over her features. "Of course he wasn't surprised you found him. People like him live in a completely different universe, Viv. They calculate every single variable. He has millions of fans globally; girls literally lose their minds just trying to figure out what brand of sunglasses he wears." Vivienne looked down at the leather folder resting on their kitchen table, the gold-embossed logo suddenly looking incredibly intimidating. "Well, I am definitely not crazy about him, and to be perfectly honest, I didn't even know what his face looked like until I walked into that gym." Kiara scoffed instantly, a sharp, humorless laugh escaping her lips. "You live in the twenty-first century and possess a working smartphone, Vivienne. You are legally supposed to know who he is." Vivienne's eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, regardless of his IMDB page, he's my boss now. And his parting words were a very clear threat not to disappoint him." Kiara let out a short, breathy laugh, the initial shock slowly morphing into a look of deep, protective concern as she walked back over and sat down beside Vivienne, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in for both of them. "That man is used to the entire world bowing down to him," Kiara said softly, her eyes locked onto Vivienne's. "He probably thinks it's a mathematical impossibility for someone not to know his name." Vivienne glanced at her, her hands starting to feel cold. "Do you think I should be worried about tomorrow?" Kiara looked at her for a long, unbroken moment, the excitement completely fading away into something heavy and thoughtful. She reached over, placing a reassuring hand on Vivienne's knee. "I think," Kiara said slowly, each word carrying a weight that made Vivienne's stomach drop, "you are about to have a very, very complicated life." Vivienne exhaled quietly, staring at the folder across the room. And for the very first time since she had accepted the position, the illusion of the safety of a $20,000-a-month paycheck completely vanished, and she fully, terrifyingly believed her.