Mr. C.E.O, Your Wife Is A Man!

CHAPTER 4

The shadow at the window didn’t move. My chest tightened, ribs aching under the binder, heartbeat hammering like a war drum. Ethan’s hand shot to mine, fingers locking around mine with iron pressure.

“Stay behind me,” he commanded, voice low, deadly calm.

I swallowed, nodding, but my legs felt like lead. Whoever it was, they weren’t a staff member. Not security. Not anyone authorized. And they weren’t just watching, they were here, inside our building, inside our lives.

The intruder’s boots echoed across the polished marble hallway. Each step deliberate. Calculated. I felt every second stretch into eternity.

Ethan moved first. Swift, silent, and terrifyingly precise. He pushed me behind the couch, shadowing me, his presence a shield I had no right to feel safe under.

“Who are you?” I whispered, though my throat was dry, voice barely audible.

His steel-blue gaze never wavered. “Doesn’t matter. They’re not leaving alive.”

Before I could process his words, a loud click from the lock echoed. The intruder was already inside the suite. Panic clawed at my chest, but Ethan was already in motion, every muscle coiled for violence.

A figure emerged from the shadows. Tall. Broad. Masked. Calmly sinister.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Ethan said, stepping in front of me. His voice was low, a growl that made the air itself vibrate.

I froze. I couldn’t breathe. I was meant to be Isla, untouchable, untangled in danger—but in that moment, I was myself, and the weight of my secret pressed like a vise.

The intruder lunged.

Ethan intercepted, his hand a blur as he twisted the attacker’s arm, slamming them into the wall. Pain, metallic, real. I wanted to look away, but my eyes were glued to the fight.

“Run!” Ethan snapped, voice breaking through my fog of terror.

I hesitated. My instincts screamed: protect the secret, survive.

Before I could move, the intruder shifted, a glint of steel catching the dim light. A knife.

Everything slowed. My heart stuttered. My mouth went dry.

Ethan’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist, pulling me close. Our bodies collided. His chest pressed against mine, warmth, power, danger all in one.

“Don’t hide from me,” he growled, eyes locked onto mine. “I’ll protect you… but I need you here. Now.”

I nodded, trembling, heat rising across my cheeks. Not from desire—though part of me couldn’t deny the reaction—but fear. Fear that if I faltered, my secret, my borrowed life, could end tonight.

A sharp clang behind us. Ethan had disarmed the intruder, but the man wasn’t done. He reached for another weapon.

I tried to move, to escape, but my legs refused. Panic and adrenaline tangled me in place.

Ethan’s hand brushed my shoulder, light, deliberate, a grounding force. His gaze flicked down at me, and for a fraction of a second, everything between us was electric. A dangerous, forbidden intimacy born from life and death.

“Take the stairs,” he commanded. “I’ll handle this.”

“But—” I started, voice quivering.

“Go!” he barked.

I obeyed, heart in my throat, body trembling, every instinct screaming to run. I slipped into the stairwell, hearing the muffled sounds of the struggle above. The world outside was gone. Only fear, only secrets, only the pulse of a man who could crush me without touching me.

I pressed my back to the wall, listening. The fight stopped. Silence fell. Then… a soft, deliberate footstep approached.

Not the intruder. Not staff.

Ethan appeared at the stairwell door, his eyes smoldering. One look, and I understood: he knew. Not my secret yet, but he knew something. Something was off.

“I need to see you safe,” he said. Calm. Cold. But the underlying heat of danger, desire, and suspicion twisted every word.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the elevator bell chimed behind us. The doors creaked open… and someone stepped out. Someone I didn’t recognize. And they were holding a device that lit up the entire stairwell in a harsh red glow.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. Mine widened in horror.

“We’ve found you,” the stranger hissed. “And tonight, no one escapes.”

My stomach dropped. My secret, my life, my carefully constructed Isla persona… everything was about to explode.

And worse… I realized Ethan’s grip on me was not just protective. It was claiming. A silent warning that he would not let me go.

I swallowed, trembling. Heart hammering, chest tight, and a single thought raced through my mind:

If they find out who I really am… we’re both dead.

The stranger pressed a button on the device. A pulse of light flooded the stairwell. My secret was seconds from being exposed.