The wife he forgot, the enemy he married

Chapter 4

Kathie’s pov

I knew the moment Bradely James walked into the office that something had shifted. It wasn’t dramatic, no raised voices, no slamming doors.

It was the way his eyes paused on her for half a second longer than usual.

“Close the door,” he said.

Angel did as instructed, her heels quiet against the marble floor. She turned to face him, tablet hugged to her chest like armour.

“Yes, Mr. James?” Bradely loosened his tie slowly, deliberately, his gaze never left her.

“Sit.” Angel hesitated.

“I can stand.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion.” She sat.

Bradely leaned against the edge of his desk, arms crossed. For a long moment, he said nothing. The silence pressed in, thick and uncomfortable.

“You didn’t tell me you were married.”

Angel blinked. “I’m not.”

“That’s not what Kathie says.”

Her chest tightened. “She told you I was married?”

“She told me you were hiding something,” he corrected. “Then she handed me a background report that conveniently stopped five years ago.”

Angel swallowed. “I don’t control what background investigators dig up.”

“No,” Bradely said calmly. “But you control what you tell me.”

Angel met his gaze. “What would you like to know?”

Bradely studied her face like he was trying to peel back layers. “Why do you flinch every time I raise my voice.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

She exhaled slowly. “Some people don’t like loud rooms.”

“That’s not it.” He straightened, stepping closer.

“You look at me like you’re waiting for permission,” he continued. “Like you expect me to hurt you.”

Angel’s fingers tightened around the tablet. “I’ve never raised a hand to you.”

“I know.”

“And yet,” Bradely said quietly, “you still look afraid.”

Angel stood abruptly. “If this conversation is about my emotional stability, I can submit a resignation letter then”

“No,” he snapped. She froze.

Bradely scrubbed a hand over his face. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?” she asked softly.

He opened his mouth, closed it.

Then said, “Why did you apply to work here?”

Angel didn’t answer immediately.

“You’re overqualified,” Bradely pressed. “Top of your class, multilingual, crisis management experience. You could be anywhere.”

She forced a small smile. “Point of correction, you recommended me Mr James.”

“That’s a lie.” Her breath caught.

Bradely stepped closer again, his voice dropping. “Every time I come near you, you tense like you already know how I touch.”

Angel’s heart slammed violently against her ribs. “You don’t,” she said.

“I do,” he insisted. “I just can’t remember where.”

Silence exploded between them. Angel backed up a step. “Mr. James”

“Bradely,” he interrupted. “When it’s just us, you call me Bradely.”

Her lips parted. “That’s not the company’s policy,” she said weakly.

“I don’t care.”

I chose that exact moment to knock once and enter anyway. “Am I interrupting something?”

Bradely turned sharply. “Yes.”

I smiled, unbothered. “Good. That means it’s important.” My eyes flicked to Angel. “You look pale, are you feeling unwell?”

“I’m fine,” Angel replied. I stepped fully into the room, heels clicking. “I hope you don’t mind, Bradely. I had lunch sent up.”

“I didn’t ask for lunch.”

“I know,” I said sweetly. “But you forget to eat when you’re stressed.”

Angel stiffened.

Bradely frowned. “How would you know that?” my smile didn’t falter. “Because I pay attention.”

Angel gathered her tablet. “If you don’t need me, I’ll return to my desk sir.”

Bradely hesitated. “Stay.”

My gaze sharpened. “Stay?”

“Yes,” Bradely repeated. “She’s, my assistant.”

“And I’m your fiancée,” I said lightly. “Surely you don’t need a third party for lunch.” Angel felt like she was standing between two loaded weapons.

Bradely looked at Angel again. “Sit.”

She did, lunch passed in clipped conversation.

Bradely barely responded, as I was talking to him. Angel listened.

“So the board approved the charity gala,” I said. “I’ll handle the guest list.”

“I already approved Angel to coordinate,” Bradely replied.

I tilted my head. “You trust her that much?”

“Yes.” Angel’s stomach twisted. I smiled at her. “Congratulations.”

After lunch, I still felt uneasy having her around.

“Bradely,” I said softly, touching his arm. “We should talk.” He stiffened slightly but nodded.

Angel stood. “I’ll excuse myself.”

As she reached the door, Bradely said, “Angel”

She turned, his eyes held hers, intense, conflicted.

“Don’t leave early today.”

I looked between them. “Is there something I should know?”

“No,” Bradely said quickly. “There isn’t.”

Angel nodded and left.

Angel’s pov

I barely made it to the restroom before her hands began to shake. I gripped the sink, staring at my reflection.

You can’t do this forever, I told herself.

That evening, as I packed up, Bradely appeared at my desk.

“You didn’t leave early.”

“You asked me not to.” He nodded once. “Walk with me.” We rode the elevator in silence. In the parking garage, Bradely stopped. “Angel,” he said. “Did I ever love you?”

My heart shattered.

I looked at him. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because every time Kathie touches me, it feels wrong,” he admitted. “And every time you walk away, it feels like I’m losing something I already lost once.”

Angel shook her head. “You’re engaged.”

“That’s not an answer.”

She stepped back. “Goodnight, Mr. James.”

“Angel,” he said urgently.

I paused.

“I almost said your name in my sleep last night,” he confessed. “Only it wasn’t Angel.”

My breath left my lungs.

“What was it?” I whispered.

Bradely frowned deeply. “I don’t know.”

But somewhere in his memory, a name burned.

And it wasn’t Kathie McGrath’s.