The CEO’s Secret Wife

THIRD PERSONS POV The loud wail of a police siren cut through the night, clearing a path for the ambulance as it forced its way through the night traffic. Tires screeched as the vehicle came to a stop at Emmerson Silver Memorial Hospital. A stretcher was pulled out in a rush, and on it lay a heavily pregnant woman, unconscious, her skin ghostly pale. The attending doctor gasped at the sight but quickly snapped on her gloves. “What happened?” she demanded. “We don’t know,” the nurse beside her replied breathlessly, guiding the stretcher through the sliding doors into the hospital. “The police found her on the sidewalk like this.” They hurried her into the emergency ward. Another nurse shouted over the chaos, “Patient name: Adeline Maddison Silver. Cause of collapse—unknown!” The doctor following them froze mid-step. “Silver?” she echoed. “As in…?” “Yes,” the nurse confirmed grimly. “She’s Darren Silver’s wife.” The doctor’s expression flashed with recognition before she forced herself back into focus, checking Adeline’s vitals.. “Has the source of the bleeding been located?” he barked. “None, she’s been examined on the drive by an attending doctor!” the nurse shot back. “No open wounds… no external or visible trauma!” The doctor stopped in his tracks, staring widely at the ghostly pale woman, confusion written all over his features. “Then why the hell is she covered in blood?” ****** A YEAR EARLIER…. ADELINE'S POV “This dress is your perfect size, ma’am,” the wedding attendant gushed as she pulled the corset for the final time. I stared at myself in the long mirror in front of me, seriously considering if it was really me looking back. The dress was absolutely breathtaking. It was a soft, ivory silk ball gown with a sweetheart neckline and delicate floral lace detailing that trailed down the bodice and faded into the skirt. The skirt itself was full, layered with soft tulle that shimmered under the boutique lights. A long train flowed behind me like a fairytale. I looked like something out of a bridal magazine… and it was hard to believe I was the one wearing it. My wedding was just two weeks away. “It’s absolutely perfect,” I gushed. Just then, my phone beeped. I moved over to pick it up, the long train getting in the way. “Douchebag,” I cursed under my breath when I saw the notification. It was a message from my boss… well, ex-boss, considering it was an email with my resignation letter attached. More like termination. Stupid jerk. Yes, I was getting fired, or better still being forced to quit just because I told my boss's wife where her husband was. I know, crazy right? I worked or used to work for a high-end finance firm as a personal assistant-s***h-secretary. About a week ago, my boss’s wife called me in a panic, asking when he’d be back from his business trip because their son was sick and she hadn't been able to reach him. Naturally, I was confused. So I clarified… very politely, might I add… that he wasn’t on any business trip thinking there might have been some miscommunication. I told her where he actually was. How was I supposed to know he was cheating on her with our business partner? Apparently, all those “scheduled lunches at Enborgs” were actually afternoon s*x at Enborgs and he hadn’t been going home for weeks. He had been showing up at work every day like everything was fine, so I genuinely thought it was a health emergency. Now, I was getting fired. He claimed it was for my “blatant unprofessionalism,” but I knew he was just looking for someone to blame for his infidelity. And it definitely didn’t help that his wife had asked me to personally forward the divorce papers to him. Honestly, I was his personal secretary. He could’ve just told me to lie if she called. But no, now I was the scapegoat—forced to resign so he wouldn’t have to explain to the rest of the office why I was suddenly let go. Ugh. I never even liked working for that arrogant prick anyway… but the pay was good. I shook the thought of him out of my head and turned back to the mirror. My reflection stared back… elegant, glowing, unstoppable. I wasn’t going to let that douchebag ruin this moment. My dream wedding was two weeks away, and the dress looked perfect. Nothing, and I mean nothing was going to ruin my big day. I turned off my phone and tossed it onto the couch. That's enough technology for one day. The sound of stilettos clicking on the floor echoed through the boutique as the store manager approached us with a bright smile on her face. “We’re so glad you like it, Miss Adeline.” “Thank you. This dress is beyond beautiful,” I said, taking another long look in the mirror. I kept admiring the dress until the manager cleared her throat nervously. I turned to her, raising the hem of the gown to see her better from the elevated bridal pedestal I stood on. “I know this is poor timing, but store policy demands full payment after customer satisfaction, and your fiancé, Mr. Cavanaught, hasn’t dropped off the check as he said on the phone,” she said with a dramatic pout, covering her mouth like she was holding back a cough. “Oh, it’s not a problem, Miss…” I paused to read the name on her tag. “Freeman. We’ve been so busy with wedding preparations that it completely slipped our minds. I’ll stop by his place after this and make sure the payment is wired to you immediately.” She smiled at that, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you. I’m sure Mr. Cavanaugh will get to it right away.” Charlie Cavanaugh. My fiancé, is the smartest, most carefree person I’ve ever met. He’s the head engineer at one of California’s biggest tech companies… and somehow, still the kindest, wildest man I know. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I still catch myself wondering how I got this lucky. His sister, Bethany, was actually the one who recommended this boutique. But after seeing a $30,000 price tag on a bridesmaid’s dress, I knew this place was way above my tax bracket. Between Mum’s piling hospital bills and my sister Leah’s ongoing “career break,” which is just a nice way to say she was a jobless and lazy reck I could never have afforded a dress here. But Charlie said I was being ridiculous. He insisted I get my dress custom-made here and offered to cover everything. It took a bit of convincing on his part, but I’m glad he did — The moment I saw myself in this dress, I felt like I’d stepped into a fairytale. A ringtone cut through the room, breaking my thoughts. Mrs. Freeman looked at her phone and sighed. “I’ll leave you to it, Miss Levine. I need to head to another fitting downtown.” I nodded. “That’s fine. I was about to head out anyway.” We both stood in sync, like dancers rehearsing an old waltz. She scribbled something quickly in her planner while I walked back to the dressing room. As I peeled off the dress with the help of the assistant, my heart fluttered—not just from the thought of walking down the aisle, but from the calmness Charlie gave me even when he wasn’t there. I zipped up my jeans and shrugged on my blouse, still smiling at how amazing my life had become. *** The cab ride felt endless even though it barely lasted fifteen minutes. My heart was light, maybe from Mrs Freeman’s compliments or maybe just because I couldn’t wait to see Charlie again. I held my bag tight as I stepped out. Then I took the elevator to the sixth floor, the familiar beep of each level echoing in the stillness. When I reached his door, I entered the passcode. The soft click of the lock released, and the door eased open. Instantly, laughter floated through the hallway—a mix of Charlie’s deep chuckle and Bethany’s signature squeal, she lived in a studio apartment just two blocks down. I froze, a smile tugging at my lips. *They’re having fun without me? I whispered under my breath, teasingly as I walked into the hallway, the echo of their voices leading me toward the kitchen. A soft giggle floated from the kitchen — followed by the clatter of something falling. from Charlie I am certain. He was hopeless in the kitchen, I peeked around the doorway, playful anticipation dancing in my chest. Then—everything stopped. My heart stilled and my lungs constricted as my eyes locked on the sight in front of me. Bethany’s back was against the kitchen island on her knees, laughing as she held Charlie's throbbing c**k close to her mouth. I watched her giggle, and silently I hoped she wouldn't do anything. But disappointment had other plans for me as she slowly put it in her mouth, and a low throaty groan resonated in the room, and I felt my early morning burrito back in my own mouth. I tasted the sour edge of my breakfast at the back of my throat. What the—