I Married My Ex's Boss By Mistake

Chapter 4

The Morning Aftershock

The sunlight in the penthouse was unforgiving. It didn't gently wake you; it sliced through the floor-to-ceiling glass like a golden blade. Aayra stirred, her hand automatically reaching for the other side of the bed. It was cold. Empty.

The memory of the previous night hit her with the force of a tidal wave. The rain, the emerald necklace, Zavian’s obsidian eyes, and the look on Arham’s face. She sat up abruptly, her heart hammered against her ribs. She wasn't in her cramped, shared apartment anymore. She was in a castle made of glass, and she was the captive queen of a man who didn't believe in love.

A soft chime came from the nightstand. It was a brand-new, high-end smartphone. She picked it up, and her breath caught.

The lock screen was filled with notifications. News alerts, social media tags, and missed calls. The headline of Istanbul Daily was staring her in the face:

"SHADOW KING ZAVIAN VALERIUS ENGAGED: WHO IS THE MYSTERIOUS EMERALD LADY?"

Below the headline was a crystal-clear photo from last night. Zavian was looking down at her with an expression that, to anyone else, looked like pure adoration. But Aayra knew the truth—it was the look of a collector proud of his latest acquisition.

Suddenly, the phone began to vibrate in her hand. A name flashed on the screen that made her blood turn to ice.

ARHAM.

She stared at the screen. The man who had discarded her like yesterday’s trash was calling her at 7:00 AM. A few hours ago, she would have cried seeing his name. Now, she felt a sickening sense of power.

Before she could decide whether to answer, the bedroom door glided open. Zavian stepped in, looking impeccably dressed in a charcoal-grey vest and a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was holding two cups of black coffee.

He didn't look at the phone vibrating in her hand; his eyes were on her messy hair and tired eyes. He walked over and placed a cup on the nightstand.

"Answer it," he said, his voice a low, commanding rasp.

Aayra looked up at him, startled. "What?"

"The phone. Arham is calling, isn't he?" Zavian sat on the edge of the bed, his presence instantly making the massive room feel small. "I want you to answer. I want you to let him speak. And then, I want you to remind him why he’s a nobody."

Aayra’s hand trembled slightly as she swiped the green button and put the phone to her ear. She didn't say a word.

"Aayra? Aayra, please answer me!" Arham’s voice was frantic, a far cry from the smug tone he had used last night. "What is going on? That photo... Zavian Valerius? Is this some kind of joke? Aayra, talk to me!"

Aayra looked at Zavian. He was watching her, his gaze intense, waiting for her move. She took a deep breath, her eyes hardening.

"It’s not a joke, Arham," she said, her voice steady and cold. "It’s a promotion. Just like the one you got. Only... mine comes with a better view."

Arham’s breath hitched over the phone, his voice desperate. "Aayra, you don't understand! Zavian Valerius is a monster. He doesn't love anyone; he just uses people! Did you go to him just to spite me? Please, let's talk. I’m ending things with Maya right now—"

Aayra’s eyes turned as cold as ice. She looked at Zavian, who was taking a sip of his coffee with a lethal smirk.

"Arham," Aayra cut him off, her voice razor-sharp. "What you do with Maya is none of my concern. I’m with Zavian because he gave me something you never could—Respect. And you're worried about your promotion? As Zavian’s fiancé, I am now your boss’s boss. So, the next time you call me, I suggest you practice addressing me as 'Ma'am'."

She cut the call, the silence that followed vibrating with a dark satisfaction. She took a deep breath, feeling a strange surge of power.

Zavian set his coffee cup down and leaned in, his presence suddenly overwhelming as he loomed over her on the bed.

"Impressive," Zavian murmured, his voice like dark velvet. "You’re a quick learner. But Arham is just an insect. The real game begins now. There’s a press conference this afternoon. The whole city will be watching. And I need to prove to them just how... obsessed I am with you."

Aayra looked up at him, startled. "Obsessed? But the contract—"

Zavian suddenly reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His cold fingers brushed against her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

"The contract includes 'Physical Closeness', Aayra," Zavian leaned in closer until their foreheads were almost touching. "If we want the world to believe we are real, there needs to be tension. People need to see that I can't keep my hands off you."

Aayra’s breath hitched. "I’ve... I’ve never done anything like this."

"Then learn," Zavian’s gaze dropped to her lips. "Because at today’s press conference, I am going to kiss you in front of everyone. And you will look like you’ve been waiting for it your whole life."

Aayra’s heart hammered against her ribs. She realized then that playing this game with Zavian was like dancing with fire. She had started this to burn Arham, but she feared that in the process... she might be the one who ends up turning to ash.