My Flash Husband Is My Boss

Chapter 7

The photo was everywhere.

I woke up at 6 AM in Seth's penthouse and my phone had ninety nine plus notifications.

Mrs. Vega sent me a screenshot at 5 AM.

It was us. At La Grenouille last night. Me in the red dress, backless, slit up to my thigh, diamond earrings, heirloom ring shining. Seth's arm around my bare back. His lips close to my ear. I was smiling, chin up, shoulders back.

The headline on Page Six:

BILLIONAIRE HEIR SETH VEGA'S MYSTERY WIFE REVEALED - QUEENS ARCHITECT IN TEN THOUSAND DOLLAR RED DRESS DARES TO INSULT HEIRESS ISABELLA LAURENT

Another headline on Daily Mail:

MEET ELISE MONROE VEGA - THE BAKERY DAUGHTER FROM QUEENS WHO STOLE NEW YORK'S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR

And the worst one, with a photo of me and Daniel Carter from two years ago at Coney Island eating hotdogs:

FROM CONEY ISLAND WITH DANIEL CARTER TO BILLIONAIRES ROW WITH SETH VEGA - WHO IS ELISE MONROE?

They found Daniel Carter. They found my past. They found everything.

My phone rang. It was my mother calling from Queens.

"Elise? My daughter? You are in the newspaper. You are in the news in New York. Is it true? You got married? To a billionaire? And who is Daniel Carter? Why are they saying Daniel Carter cheated on you?"

"Mom, I will explain later. I have to go to work."

I hung up, my hands shaking.

Seth walked out of his bedroom, already in a suit, coffee in hand, looking like he had not slept. He saw my face and my phone.

"You saw it," he said.

"They found Daniel Carter, Seth. They are calling me bakery daughter from Queens."

"My mother leaked the La Grenouille photos," he said, his jaw tight. "She wanted the world to know you are Mrs. Vega before the gala. So Isabella Laurent cannot pretend you do not exist."

"Isabella will kill me at the gala," I whispered. "She will be there with Daniel Carter and Chloe."

"She will try," he said, walking to me, taking my phone and turning it off. "But tonight, you are not Elise from Queens. You are Mrs. Vega. And Mrs. Vega does not read comments at six in the morning in silk pajamas."

He handed me a black box. Another black box with a gold bow. From his mother again.

Inside was a dress. Not red this time. Black. Strapless, sweetheart neckline, slit not as high as red but still sexy, with a long train. And with it, a diamond choker with a big diamond in the middle like a teardrop.

And a note in elegant handwriting:

Elise, Tonight is the Vega Annual Gala. Five hundred people. Live stream. Press. Wear black. Black is power. Black is revenge. Show them you are not a girl in red who got lucky. Show them you are a queen in black who belongs. Be at the Pierre Hotel at seven PM. Sharp. Do not be late. Do not faint. Do not vomit. And remember, if you faint, you are pregnant. Love, Eleanor.

Tonight. The gala is tonight. Not in seven days. Tonight.

"She changed the date," Seth said, reading over my shoulder. "My mother changed the gala date from next week to tonight. To trap us. Because she knows Isabella Laurent is ready tonight, and you are not."

"I am not ready," I whispered, touching the black gown. Silk, expensive, heavy. "I have never worn a black gown. I have never been to a gala. I have never been on live stream."

"You are ready," Seth said, his hands on my bare shoulders, turning me to face him. "You faced Isabella last night in red and you won. You faced Chloe in my office and you won. You faced my mother and you did not take her million dollars. You are more ready than any heiress who was born with a diamond spoon."

He leaned down, his forehead touching mine.

"Elise, listen to me. Tonight at the gala, Daniel Carter will be there with Chloe. My mother invited them as a couple to test you. To see if you faint when you see your ex fiance Daniel Carter with your cousin who stole him."

My blood ran cold.

"Daniel Carter and Chloe together? At the gala? As a couple?"

"Yes. My mother wants to see if you are strong enough to be a Vega. If you cry tonight, if you run, if you faint, she will say you are not strong enough and she will force us to divorce and I will have to marry Isabella Laurent. And she will tell press you were pregnant and lost the baby. To save face."

"That is evil," I whispered.

"That is my mother," he said, with a hint of love in his voice. "She loves me. She just shows it by being evil."

He kissed my forehead.

"Colette and Madame Dubois will be here at twelve PM to get you ready. Seven hours of preparation. Hair, makeup, dress, walk, talk. And I will be here at six thirty PM to pick up my wife."

The day was torture.

Colette waxed everything. Madame Dubois made me walk in six inch heels with a book on my head for two hours.

"Chin up, Elise. You are Mrs. Vega. You own Manhattan."

"Shoulders back, Elise. You are not a Junior Architect. You are a queen."

"When Daniel Carter talks to you, you smile. You do not cry. When Chloe insults you, you smile bigger. When Isabella Laurent tries to push you, you stand still like a queen in black."

At six thirty PM, the elevator dinged.

Seth was there. In a black tuxedo, bow tie, hair perfectly styled, looking like James Bond but richer, more dangerous.

And I was there, in the black gown, train long, diamond choker sparkling, hair in a high sleek ponytail, makeup dark and powerful, red lips again, but darker red this time, not bright red like last night. Power red.

He stopped dead when he saw me. Like last night in red, but worse. His eyes went completely black.

"Elise," he whispered, his voice rough.

"Do I look like a Vega wife?" I asked, my voice shaking even though I tried to be confident.

"You look like my wife," he said, walking to me slowly. "My queen in black. And tonight, every man in that room will want to steal you from me. Including Daniel Carter."

"Daniel Carter will not want me," I said.

"Daniel Carter is a man, wife. And you are in a black gown that makes you look like sin. He will want you. But he will never have you. Because you are mine."

He took my hand, with the heirloom ring, and kissed it, right on the ring, in front of Colette and Madame Dubois who were swooning.

"Let us go, Mrs. Vega. Let us show New York what happens when a girl from Queens becomes a queen."

The Pierre Hotel ballroom was insane. Five hundred people, chandeliers that cost more than houses, flowers everywhere, live stream cameras, press pit, red carpet.

And at the entrance, a huge banner:

VEGA CORPORATION ANNUAL GALA - SEVENTY FIFTH ANNIVERSARY - HOSTED BY ELEANOR VEGA AND FAMILY

Family. I was family now.

Mrs. Vega was at the entrance, in a silver gown, diamonds everywhere, looking like a queen mother. She saw me in black and her eyes lit up.

"Elise, you wore black. Good. You listened. You look like a Vega woman. My mother would have loved you in black."

Then she leaned close, whispering only for me.

"Remember, do not faint. Do not vomit. Do not cry when you see Daniel Carter and Chloe. They are inside. Table twelve. With Isabella Laurent. All three together. They are planning something. I heard Isabella say she will make you faint tonight, so press will say you are pregnant. And if press says you are pregnant, you will have to be pregnant. For real. Do you understand, Elise?"

My knees went weak. My six inch heels wobbling.

Daniel Carter, Chloe, and Isabella Laurent. All three together. Table twelve. Planning to make me faint so I will have to be pregnant for real.

Seth's hand tightened on my waist, holding me up.

"She is here," he whispered in my ear, possessive. "Table twelve. Daniel Carter just saw you. He is staring. Chloe is staring. Isabella is staring. All of New York is staring, wife. And you are still standing. Good girl."

I looked up. And there, across the ballroom, through five hundred rich people, through chandeliers and flowers and cameras, I saw Table twelve.

Daniel Carter in a cheap suit that did not fit, looking shocked, mouth open, staring at me in the black gown like he had never seen me before.

Chloe in a pink gown, too tight, too short, looking like a bridesmaid, not a queen, eyes full of hatred.

And Isabella Laurent in white Dior again, perfect, blonde, holding a glass of champagne, smiling a cold, evil smile, raising her glass to me like she was toasting my downfall.

And then Isabella mouthed something, so only I could see, across the ballroom.

She mouthed:

Enjoy your last night as Mrs. Vega, bakery girl. Tomorrow you will be pregnant. And then you will lose everything.

And at that exact moment, a waiter walked past me with a tray of champagne. And I felt dizzy. Really dizzy. The room spinning. The chandeliers spinning. Five hundred people spinning.

My six inch heels wobbled.

My hand went to my stomach.

Seth's arm tightened around me.

"Elise? Elise, are you okay? Wife?"

Mrs. Vega's eyes widened, looking at my hand on my stomach.

"Oh no," she whispered. "She is fainting. She is really fainting. In black. In front of live stream."

And the live stream camera turned directly to me, red light blinking, live, five hundred people watching, plus thousands online, watching Mrs. Vega's new wife from Queens faint in a black gown at Table twelve where Daniel Carter and Chloe and Isabella were sitting, planning to make her pregnant.