His Contracted Wife

*Gianna’s POV* The moment I stepped inside the company building, the sharp sound of my heels echoed against the polished marble floor—each click loud, merciless, and heavy, as if announcing my exhaustion to everyone around me. With every step, I released a deep breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding, as though the weight of the day had already settled on my shoulders before it even began. Another day had arrived. Another day of fatigue. Another day of headaches, deadlines, and quiet humiliation. “Good morning, Gianna,” Anne greeted me cheerfully when she saw me walking toward the elevator. “Good morning,” I replied with a smile that took effort to maintain. We stepped inside the elevator together, the doors sliding shut with a soft chime as we ascended to our floor. When we arrived, we immediately parted ways. Our desks were on opposite sides of the office, and just like every morning, we returned to our separate routines— her's lighter, mine suffocating. I slipped my bag carefully into the drawer beneath my desk and gently placed the coffee I had ordered earlier from the cafeteria, beside my computer. The steam rose invitingly, but I didn’t spare it even at a glance. There was no time to take a sip. No time to breathe. No time to rest. Every second in this place was valuable—especially when your job was being the personal assistant of a man who seemed as though he had crawled straight out of the underworld. I sat down and immediately turned on my computer, fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard as I reviewed and finalized Mr. Sinclair’s packed schedule for the day. Meetings, calls, investor briefings—his calendar was always merciless, just like him. I was in the middle of organizing his agenda when Anne approached my desk. “Gianna,” she said quietly, “Sir is asking if you’ve already finished the brochures that will be sent to the investors.” I looked up at her, my chest tightening. I released a deep sigh and reached for the neatly stacked brochures beside my desk—the same ones I had worked on until dawn. I barely remembered how or when I fell asleep last night. “I have them,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. “Are you going to bring them to him—” The ringing of the telephone cut me off. I stiffened. “Yes, sir?” I answered immediately. “In my office. Now.” The line went dead before I could even respond. My grip tightened around the receiver, my jaw clenching as irritation surged through me. Not even a good morning. But then again, I doubted there was anything “good” in that man’s mornings—or in his life at all. Judging by the constant scowl etched on his face, it was as though bitterness was the only thing keeping him alive. “The devil is calling me to his office,” I muttered as I stood from my swivel chair, clutching the brochures to my chest. “Good luck,” Anne said awkwardly, offering a hesitant smile that told me she already knew how this would go. I nodded and began walking toward his office, my steps slow but steady. When I reached the glass sliding door, I knocked three times. There was no response. Taking a breath, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Good morning, sir,” I greeted him, forcing a polite smile onto my lips. Just as I expected, there was no reaction. He didn’t look up. Didn’t acknowledge me. Didn’t even pause from whatever he was doing. “Here are the brochures you asked me to prepare,” I said, walking closer and carefully placing them on his wooden desk. He finally put down his pen and reached for the brochures. My heart pounded violently as I watched his brows slowly knit together. The silence stretched painfully—until, without warning, he flung the brochures straight at me. Paper scattered across the floor like fallen leaves. I froze. My throat went dry, my palms instantly slick with sweat as his dark, furious eyes lifted to meet mine. “This is what you stayed up all night working on?” he barked. “I don’t see anything impressive here! I specifically told you to properly highlight the private sky lounge and the infinity pool—they’re supposed to be the main eye-catchers for potential buyers! You’ve been working here for so damn long, yet you’re still lacking in every possible way!” His words struck like knives. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. It felt as though a thousand needles pierced my heart all at once, each sentence cutting deeper than the last. “What?” he snapped when I remained still. “Are you just going to stand there instead of fixing your damn work?” My body moved before my mind could react. Like a malfunctioning machine, I knelt down and gathered the scattered brochures from the floor, my vision blurring as I clenched my teeth to keep my emotions in check. When I finished, I stood before his desk again, my head bowed low. “I—I’m sorry, s-sir,” I said quietly. “I’ll fix them immediately.” I didn’t wait for his response. I turned and left his office, my steps hurried, my chest aching. The moment the sliding door closed behind me, my fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms. Anger, humiliation, and pain swirled violently inside me. He didn’t even take ten seconds to properly look at my work—yet he was quick to destroy it with words. I could accept rejection, but did he really have to throw it back at me like trash? I returned to my desk. Anne glanced at me but didn’t ask anything—my expression spoke louder than words. I dropped into my swivel chair and, in a fit of frustration, tossed the brochures straight into the trash bin. My eyes drifted to the untouched coffee beside me. I hadn’t even taken a single sip, yet my blood pressure felt dangerously high—all thanks to that evil CEO. “Do you want help fixing the brochure?” Anne asked gently from her desk. I looked at her and forced a smile. “No… but can I ask you a favor instead?” She nodded. “Sure. Anything to help lessen your anger,” she joked lightly, making me chuckle softly. Thank goodness for Anne. If not for her, I might have already lost my sanity because of that devilish CEO. “Can you handle Mr. Sinclair’s schedule for now?” I asked. “I’ll focus on fixing the brochure, and I know this will take me all night again.” “Of course,” she replied without hesitation. “We share the same job anyway. Don’t worry—I’ll take care of his schedule today.” I thanked her sincerely before diving back into my work. *** Lunch came and went, but I was still nowhere near done. I experimented with every possible angle, layout, and design just to figure out what would finally satisfy that man. I adjusted the highlights for the private sky lounge and infinity pool exactly as he demanded. I ensured the photos were crisp, clear, and enticing—designed to spark desire and interest in potential buyers. By the time 2 p.m. arrived, my hands were damp with sweat. I had to finish this today. He was still in the office, and the brochures were needed for tomorrow’s meeting for the new project. “Gianna,” Anne called. “I noticed you didn’t go down for lunch, so I bought you some food,” she said as she placed it gently on my desk. “Thank you,” I replied, still focused on the printer humming beside me. “Aren’t you going to eat? You’ll get sick if you keep skipping meals.” “I want to,” I admitted quietly, “but I’m not in the mood. I really need to finish this today.” She hesitated before asking, “What exactly didn’t Sir like about your brochure?” I lowered my voice. “Honestly… I don’t know.” Anne frowned. “Sometimes I wonder if he has a personal grudge against you. It’s like he enjoys making things harder for you.” I finally looked up at her. “I wonder the same,” I said. “It feels like he’s been targeting me since my first day. Imagine—on my very first day, he alre ady assigned me to handle a major project.” I looked back at my screen, jaw tightening. If this was only the beginning… I feared what the days ahead would bring.