Married to My Bossy CEO Wife

Qin Chuan let out a long yawn. He was already irritated—having to wake up early just to wait for an interview at a massive shopping mall was hardly his idea of a good morning. As his gaze drifted to the pretty receptionist at the front desk, a cynical thought crept into his mind. Since when did receptionists become so stunning? And that neckline—was it even legal to wear something cut that low in public? Was she here to greet clients... or to seduce her superiors? Then again, maybe it was both. Girls like this didn’t exist on the battlefield. He recalled the only woman among their mercenary ranks—a terrifying African woman who had, quite literally, sliced off her own chest because she deemed it "in the way." The memory alone sent a chill down his spine. Yeah... coming back to H City was the right call, he mused. Only soft, sweet girls like these could possibly heal the scars etched into his soul. Just then, the pen in the receptionist’s hand slipped to the floor. With a soft gasp, she stepped out from behind the counter and bent down to retrieve it. She was wearing an ultra-short skirt, and the angle offered a direct line of sight to a forbidden vista. Qin Chuan froze. Was this entrapment? Girls these days—have they no shame? How can they walk around in skirts this short?! A surge of righteous indignation rose in his chest. If I ever had a girlfriend like that, I’d have to teach her a serious lesson! With a theatrical “Oops,” Qin Chuan “accidentally” dropped his phone as well, stooping down to retrieve it—conveniently catching a glimpse beneath her skirt. Holy sht…* No underwear? Is this real life? Have modern girls truly become this bold? He shook his head, then leaned back in his chair, growing increasingly impatient. “I’ve been waiting for over an hour,” he finally muttered toward the receptionist. “When’s my turn?” The girl rolled her eyes and snapped back, “What’s the rush? If you want the job, wait like everyone else. Can’t you see I’m working?” Spicy. She had attitude—and no underwear. Maybe she was afraid she’d set fire to them with that temper of hers. Behind him, a line of anxious candidates sat restlessly. Each interview took forever, and those who emerged looked as if they’d faced the grim reaper, not an HR rep. Qin Chuan half-wondered if there was a trapdoor inside the office. The summer heat was brutal. Qin Chuan, wearing a full suit and tie, was already sweating buckets. If this drags on, I’ll turn into a walking hot dog. Finally, her voice rang out: “Next—Qin Chuan!” He clapped his thigh in relief. “Thank God, finally! Any longer and I’d have ascended to the heavens.” Just as he adjusted his tie to enter, a man in a white designer suit swaggered past and cut in front of him. The receptionist’s expression instantly changed. “Ah! Young Master Jin! You’re here at last!” “Of course,” the man said with a greasy smile. “It’s my big day.” Qin Chuan raised a brow. Late by hours, and he acts like he owns the place. “He doesn’t even need an interview,” the receptionist giggled. “It’s basically a done deal.” Qin Chuan’s stomach turned. The woman’s flirtatious smile suddenly looked hideous. She’s totally sleeping with this rich kid, isn’t she? “It’s just a formality,” Jin said with a wink. “I’m a man of procedure.” “Indeed you are! Right this way, please.” As she motioned for Jin to head into the office, Qin Chuan stepped in front of them. “Excuse me. Aren’t we doing things by the book here? I’m pretty sure it’s my turn.” The receptionist scoffed. “Do you even know who this is? He’s the son of our operations director. Do you really think someone like you can compete?” Jin sneered. “This mall isn’t for guys like you. The elementary school next door might be hiring security guards. That’s more your speed. A thousand bucks a month should be plenty for your lifestyle.” Qin Chuan’s brow twitched. Arrogant bastard. Being a trust fund kid makes you a god now? “Move. You’re blocking my path,” Jin snapped, trying to shove him aside. But Qin Chuan didn’t budge—he stood like a stone pillar. Jin pushed again, to no avail. Damn... Is this guy made of steel? What is he, a construction worker? I need to talk to HR. How did trash like this even get into the candidate pool? As tensions escalated, the office door swung open. Out stepped a woman so stunning that every man in the room forgot to breathe. “She’s gorgeous…” “Must be a company executive…” “Damn, I’d give up thirty years of my life for a chance with her.” Even a guy drinking yogurt squeezed the bottle too hard, squirting himself in the face as he gaped. Jin’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. A goddess. A certified ten. Why haven’t I seen her before? Sure, he’d “communicated” often with the receptionist, but this was a whole new level. She must be someone’s secretary. No matter—she’ll be mine soon enough. With those curves? At least a 34D… and those legs—God help me. But then— “President Wang…” the receptionist stammered, suddenly respectful. What?! She wasn’t a secretary… she was one of the top executives? If I could win her heart, I’d skip thirty years of struggling and retire early! Jin puffed up his chest and stepped forward. “President Wang, I’m Jin Yang, son of the Operations Director—” But the beauty didn’t spare him a glance. Instead, she looked straight at Qin Chuan. “Qin Chuan, what are you doing still standing there? Hurry up and get inside.” Her voice was firm. “How much longer do you plan on making me wait?” Dead silence. Every head turned to stare at Qin Chuan. Who… the hell is this guy?