The CEO’s Stranger Wife

Evelyn Moore learned early how to stay quiet. In her hometown, quiet meant safe. Loud dreams were things people talked about and never reached. The town was small, jobs were limited, and most people stayed because leaving cost money they didn’t have. Evelyn’s mother worked two jobs, always tired, always practical. There were no long talks about hopes or feelings. Life was about paying bills and getting through the week. “You don’t need to stand out,” her mother used to say while folding laundry late at night. “You just need to get by.” Evelyn listened. She did well in school, better than most, but there was no one guiding her toward scholarships or elite programs. She went to a state college on loans and part-time jobs, studied hard, and graduated quietly. No applause followed. Just debt and a diploma. New York came next because it felt like the only place where effort might matter. Five years later, Evelyn sat at her desk on the thirty-second floor of a glass building in Midtown, staring at a spreadsheet that wasn’t technically her responsibility. She fixed it anyway. She always did. “Evelyn,” her supervisor called from across the open office, not even looking up from his screen. “Can you print these and bring them to the meeting room?” “Sure,” she said, already standing. The request wasn’t rude. It just wasn’t respectful either. She printed the papers, organized them, and placed them neatly on the table before the meeting began. Then she left the room, even though she’d helped prepare the data they were discussing. She returned to her desk as two younger coworkers walked past her, laughing. “I can’t believe they approved my transfer already,” one of them said. “My uncle knew someone on the board.” “That’s amazing,” the other replied. “You’re so lucky.” Evelyn kept her eyes on her screen. She’d applied for three internal transfers that year. None had gone anywhere. At lunch, she ate alone at her desk, scrolling through job listings she’d already seen. Everything required experience she didn’t have or connections she couldn’t fake. Later that afternoon, her phone buzzed. It was a number she didn’t recognize. “Hello?” she answered. “Hi, this is Karen from Brightline Staffing,” a cheerful voice said. “We have a short-term placement that might be a good fit for you. Administrative support at a private foundation. Two-month contract. Interested?” Evelyn hesitated. “What kind of foundation?” “The Blackwood Foundation.” She paused again. She’d heard the name. Everyone had. “I can send you the details,” Karen added quickly. “They need someone reliable, starting next week.” “Yes,” Evelyn said. “Please send it.” That night, Evelyn packed her lunch for the next day and stared at the email confirmation on her phone. Two months wasn’t long, but it was something different. Something new. The Blackwood Foundation building was nothing like her office. The lobby alone looked like it belonged in a museum. Clean lines, quiet voices, expensive art on the walls. Evelyn adjusted her blazer as she checked in with security. “Name?” the receptionist asked. “Evelyn Moore.” The woman typed, frowned slightly, then smiled. “You’re cleared. Elevator on the left.” Evelyn didn’t notice the slight pause. She just nodded and walked away. Her onboarding meeting was brief. A woman from HR handed her a folder. “You’ll be assisting with donor records and scheduling,” the woman said. “Your background is impressive.” Evelyn blinked. “I’m sorry?” “Your education,” the woman continued, flipping through papers. “Columbia, correct?” Evelyn felt her stomach tighten. There it was. The mistake. She glanced at the file in the woman’s hands. Ivy League. Not hers. “Oh,” Evelyn said slowly. “Yes.” The word came out before she could stop it. The HR representative smiled. “That explains why you were recommended. You’ll fit in well here.” Evelyn nodded, her heart pounding. She told herself she’d correct it later. Once she proved herself. Once they saw her work. Her desk was placed near a window. That alone felt unreal. She spent the first day organizing donor files, learning the internal system, and answering emails carefully. No one questioned her. No one looked twice. ========================================= During her second week, she was asked to assist with a small donor event. She worked late preparing guest lists and schedules. As she handed a clipboard to one of the senior coordinators, the woman smiled. “You’re Anna, right?” Evelyn froze for half a second. “Sorry?” “Anna Moore,” the woman said casually. “From the development team.” Evelyn hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.” “Good,” the woman said. “You’re doing great work.” That night, Evelyn stood in her apartment staring at her reflection. She didn’t look like someone named Anna Moore. She looked like herself. Ordinary. Tired. Careful. She told herself it was just a name. A misunderstanding. Nothing permanent. ========================================= At work, things continued smoothly. People greeted her warmly. Invitations followed. Meetings she’d never been part of before now included her. Her opinions were asked for. Her emails received fast replies. One afternoon, she was called into a conference room she’d never entered before. A tall man stood near the window, hands in his pockets, looking out at the city. He turned when she entered. His expression was calm, unreadable. “This is Julian Blackwood,” someone said. “He oversees the foundation.” Evelyn felt her throat tighten. Julian nodded once. “You’re Anna.” “Yes,” she said. “I’ve seen your work,” he continued. “You’re efficient.” “Thank you.” He studied her for a moment, then turned back to the window. “We need people like that here.” The meeting was short. Professional. But when she left the room, Evelyn’s hands were shaking. She sat back at her desk, staring at her screen without seeing it. Something had shifted. She could feel it. ========================================= Later that day, she opened her email and saw her name typed at the top of a message. Anna Moore. She didn’t correct it. She closed the laptop, gathered her things, and left the building as the sun set between skyscrapers. For the first time since moving to New York, she felt like the city wasn’t pushing her away. As she walked toward the subway, Evelyn told herself this was temporary. Just until she got her footing. Just until things were stable. She didn’t realize yet that she had already taken the first step into a life she wouldn’t know how to leave...