My Flash Husband Is My Boss

Chapter 2

My husband disappeared right after he told me he was a billionaire.

One minute he was holding me in my tiny Brooklyn apartment, saying "This is Vega, I'm coming to the Tower now" in that cold CEO voice.

The next minute he was gone.

He left his cheap black jacket on my bed. He left a note written on the back of my grocery receipt.

Elise, I have to go to work. Stay here. I will explain tonight. S.

I stared at the note for an hour. Wearing his Patek Philippe watch that he forgot on my wrist.

My broke, jobless husband was wearing a watch that costs more than my life savings. And he was getting emergency calls from the board of Vega Corporation.

Seth Alessandro Vega.

I googled it with shaking hands.

One search and my world stopped.

Seth Alessandro Vega, 31. CEO and heir of Vega Corporation. Net worth 4.2 billion dollars. New York's most eligible bachelor. Known for being ruthless and cold.

And there he was. In a Tom Ford suit. At a charity gala. Looking exactly like the man who picked me up barefoot in a wedding dress and helped me dry it in a laundromat.

I married him.

I, Elise Monroe, 26, Junior Architect who can barely pay rent, married Seth Alessandro Vega.

And tomorrow, which is Monday, I was supposed to start my new job as Junior Architect at Vega Corporation.

My dream job. My way out of Brooklyn.

Now my dream boss was my fake husband.

"This is not happening," I whispered.

I tried to call him. Voicemail.

I slept on the couch in my ruined wedding dress.

He never came back.

Monday morning came too fast.

I woke up at 6 AM. I showered. I put on my best clothes. Black blazer from H and M for $49.99. White shirt. Black pants. My only good heels.

I could do this. I could pretend I didn't know my boss. I needed this job. My rent was due in five days and Daniel had emptied our joint savings.

Vega Tower on 5th Avenue was exactly like the magazines. Fifty floors of black glass. Lobby made of pure marble. Security that looked like Secret Service.

"Elise Monroe for Junior Architect interview, 9 AM," I said.

"Floor 48. HR will see you."

Floor 48 was all glass and white and expensive. Everyone looked like they came from a fashion magazine.

"Elise Monroe?" A woman in a red dress called me. "I'm Sarah from HR. Welcome to Vega Corp. Your portfolio was impressive. Mr. Vega himself requested to meet all new juniors today. He never meets juniors."

My heart stopped.

Mr. Vega himself.

"No, that's okay, I don't need to meet—"

"Oh you have to," she smiled. "It's mandatory. Follow me."

She led me down a long hallway to a huge double door made of black wood.

Sarah knocked.

"Come in," said a voice from inside.

That voice. That low, deep, cold voice that said "This is Vega" on the phone.

Sarah opened the door.

And there he was.

Seth. My Seth. But not my Seth.

This Seth was wearing a dark navy Tom Ford suit. White shirt. Black tie. Hair perfectly combed. The Patek Philippe watch now on his own wrist.

He was sitting behind a massive black desk. Behind him was a full view of Manhattan.

He was not the broke guy in a cheap black shirt.

He was a king. In his tower.

He looked up. Our eyes met.

His eyes widened for one second. Then his face became completely blank. Cold.

Sarah didn't notice. "Mr. Vega, this is Elise Monroe, our new Junior Architect. Top of her class at Pratt."

Seth stood up slowly. He walked around his desk. Towards me.

Every step was slow.

My heart beat so loud I was sure the whole floor could hear it.

He stopped right in front of me. So close I could smell his cologne.

He looked down at me. No smile.

"Elise Monroe," he said, his voice cold and formal. "Welcome to Vega Corporation."

He extended his hand for a handshake.

I stared at his hand. The same hand that held me while I cried.

I slowly shook his hand. His grip was firm. Cold.

"Thank you, Mr. Vega," I whispered. "It's an honor."

"Tell me, Miss Monroe," he said, still holding my hand a little too long, his thumb brushing secretly over my pulse. "Are you married?"

Sarah giggled. "Mr. Vega, you're so direct."

"I..." My voice cracked. "I just got married. Recently."

"How recently?" Seth asked, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Two days ago. Saturday. At City Hall. At 10 AM."

Something flashed in his eyes.

"Two days ago," he repeated slowly. "What a coincidence. I also got married two days ago. Saturday. At City Hall. At 10 AM."

Sarah's mouth dropped. "Mr. Vega! You got married? Who is the lucky woman?"

Seth finally let go of my hand.

"My wife is very private," he said, eyes locked on mine. "She likes to keep things separate. Work and home. But she is here. In this building. Right now."

My knees almost gave out.

"Miss Monroe," he said, voice becoming ice cold CEO again. "You will start today. Your office is on this floor. Right next to mine. So I can keep an eye on your work."

"Is that a problem, Miss Monroe?" he asked.

"No, Mr. Vega," I said.

"Good," he said. "Sarah, leave us. I need to have a private word with my new Junior Architect about office romances."

Sarah left.

The door closed with a loud click.

Silence.

He stood up. He locked the door with a remote. Click.

Then he walked to me. He caged me against the wall with his arms.

His cold CEO mask was gone. His eyes were burning.

"Hello, wife," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "Did you miss your husband last night?"

I pushed against his chest.

"You lied to me," I hissed. "You said you were broke. Jobless."

"And you married a stranger in a bar while wearing another man's wedding dress," he whispered back. "So we're both liars, wife."

"Don't call me that. Here you are Mr. Vega. I'm Miss Monroe. We have a contract. One year. No touching."

He smiled. That slow, dangerous smile.

"Oh, I remember the contract. But I don't remember agreeing to no touching when my wife is working right next to my office."

He leaned closer. His lips brushed my ear.

"And by the way, wife. You are still wearing my jacket from Saturday night. I can smell it on you."

I gasped. I was wearing his black jacket under my blazer because I was cold.

His hand slid to my waist.

"Mr. Vega," I said, trying to sound professional while my body was on fire. "This is HR violation."

"Then report me," he whispered, his lips touching the corner of my mouth. "Report your husband to HR for touching his own wife."

His other hand found my pocket. He pulled out the gold band I had hidden.

He took my left hand and slowly slipped it back onto my ring finger.

"Don't hide this again," he said, voice low and possessive. "In this building, you are my architect. At home, you are my wife."

The door suddenly knocked loud.

"Mr. Vega? Your 9:30 meeting with the board is here. And your cousin Chloe Monroe is here for her interview as Senior Designer."

My blood turned to ice.

Chloe. Here. In this building. For a job. As Senior Designer. My boss.

Seth's eyes darkened.

He leaned down and whispered the worst possible words.

"Don't worry, wife. I will tell them you are my wife. Right now. In front of everyone. Unless you kiss me first."