Secret Wife Of The Arrogant Tycoon

The Shame

I pretended not to notice the man I had insulted the night before, and I felt that shame and dignity ran away, leaving me alone.

What were the odds that I would see this sexy and exasperating stranger again? I wanted to dig a hole in the ground and disappear.

I looked at him closely for the first time and realized that my five-foot-three height was not enough for his six-foot-three tall. The designer suit he wore tailored to fit and that haircut that made his black mane look like a classic Hollywood star's was what made me realize I had been with a man a thousand times more handsome than my ex.

Deep down, I had the satisfaction that at least it had been worth it. Although my biggest concern now was, how was I going to get out of this problem? It was clear he remembered who I was. And despite telling him it "didn't work," the reality was that he had a five-star performance in bed.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" I might have been a bit starstruck by him, but I couldn't fall under his spell and be exposed.

He raised an eyebrow, his face trying to maintain the seriousness of a businessman in a hospital. He looked at me for a couple of seconds, which felt like years.

"Are you now playing the coward? Or do you really have such amnesia?"

Wow! That was a real low blow. I could be anything but a coward. That really hurt, but what was I supposed to do if I was desperate? I had to get rid of him as soon as possible.

"Ah, you're the man of the night. I just remembered you." My dignity had died that afternoon. "How did it go with the urologist, by the way?"

I saw how the man clenched his jaw, and for a moment he closed his eyes. It was as if he was trying to channel the spirit of Buddha or Jesus. That's the feeling I got.

"Miss, the only thing that isn't working well for me right now is ignoring you. Everything else is in its prime," he told me with that sharp voice. He looked at me with a certain challenging air.

Ha, talking to me is a privilege.

"Are you sure?" I asked him with all the naivety in the world, and soon discovered that I should have asked anything but this.

Zoe, what were you thinking asking something like that? I mean, damn, the man had no problems. What if I had traumatized him?

"I don't need a urologist. But if you're looking to volunteer to prove everything works perfectly, it seems you've just offered yourself."

Offer myself? Oh my God, what a ridiculous idea!

"I don't need to volunteer. I already know the kind of problem I'm going to find." Apparently, I couldn't stop putting my foot in my mouth.

I couldn't read the man's expression, but I was sure he wasn't amused that I kept reminding him of the terrible performance in bed. However, I could see a certain aura full of fun and mischief. At that moment, he took his wallet out of his pants pocket and pulled out a few bills, which he placed in my hands. At first, I kept my fist closed, but he made sure to extend my fingers and deposit the money.

The light touch of his fingers on the skin of my hand sent a small tingling sensation through me. Our eyes met for a moment, and I swear I forgot to breathe for a second.

"Here you go, so you can pay someone to tell you otherwise, because clearly, you need it more than I do. There are good neurologists specializing in dementia. I'm sure one of them here at the hospital can help you."

I opened my mouth, and I swear it took me a moment to find my voice again because he gave me one hundred and fifty dollars for the consultation. We remained silent for a couple of seconds, standing in the middle of a crowded waiting room with people whispering or dozing in the seats, waiting for news about their relatives' health.

I was about to open my mouth when the doctor shouted Carlton's name.

"Relatives of Mr. Carlton!" Called the voice of a doctor.

"I need to go," I told the annoyingly handsome man without giving him time to say another word. I immediately approached the doctor. "Good evening, doctor."

"I suppose Mr. Carlton's relatives haven't arrived yet."

"No, but I'll call his wife."

"Alright. Mr. Carlton came out of his surgery successfully. He is in the recovery room waiting to wake up from the anesthesia."

"Thank goodness."

"Thank us doctors, sweetheart. I didn't spend fifteen years studying just for fun."

The doctor seemed to be in a bad mood because he turned around and left. It was a relief that at least my boss was okay. I placed a hand on my chest, filled with relief.

"No way," I heard the same male voice behind me.

I turned around, fed up with that man lingering around. I put my hands on my hips and looked at him with a frown. I didn't understand why he was still there.

"You can go on your way. I've got more important things to do than chat with an arrogant guy."

He crossed his arms and seemed intrigued. We were starting to become the center of attention for some onlookers who had woken up hoping to receive news about their relatives.

"And what could be more important than talking to me?"

"Like waiting for my boss's i***t brother, who was supposed to arrive before his surgery, but hasn't shown up. Poor Carlton, with a family like that, who needs enemies."

"Miss, are you Carlton's personal assistant?"

"Yes."

Oh dear, something didn't add up.

"Well, I am that i***t brother."

Zoe Morel 1997 - 2025.

Cause of death: Shame.