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

CHAPTER 5

The red pulse of light from the device still burned behind me, painting the stairwell in harsh crimson. My heart was a hammer in my chest. Every step I took echoed like a death knell. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could feel was the suffocating weight of my secret pressing against my ribs, threatening to break through.

Ethan’s hand was still on my wrist, firm, unyielding, his gaze scorching into mine. Every instinct screamed to obey. Every part of me screamed to run.

I broke.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered, voice trembling, eyes darting toward the exit door at the bottom of the stairwell. “I… I have to go.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, his hand tightening around mine. “Kai… don’t.”

But my panic overrode reason. I yanked my arm free, surprising even myself. I bolted. The stairwell seemed endless, my lungs burning, my legs pumping on pure adrenaline.

“Stop!” Ethan’s voice roared after me, echoing off the concrete walls. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

The exit door loomed ahead. Freedom—or a trap—I didn’t care. Anything was better than being under his gaze, under suspicion, under the suffocating weight of this life.

I threw the door open. Rain poured down in sheets, soaking my borrowed persona, plastering the wig to my scalp, running down my spine. The world outside was dark, wet, and chaotic. Perfect for disappearing.

I ran into the shadows, dodging puddles, weaving between parked cars, the sound of the storm masking my footsteps. I dared a glance over my shoulder—Ethan wasn’t following. Not yet. Relief surged.

But it was short-lived.

A flash of movement. A silhouette blocking my path. Heart in my throat.

Ethan.

Steel-blue eyes like winter ice, fury and possession mixed in a deadly cocktail. His coat flared behind him as he ran, closing the distance between us effortlessly. He moved like a predator, every step precise, every breath measured.

“Kai,” he said, voice low, dangerous, almost a growl. “Try that again and I will chain you to this bed.”

I skidded to a halt, chest heaving. “I… I can’t… I can’t do this!” My hands were shaking violently. Every lie, every moment of Isla’s life I had stolen, felt like it was suffocating me from the inside.

Ethan closed the last few meters in two strides. His hands grabbed my shoulders, spinning me to face him. His gaze drilled into mine. “Do you think this is a game? That you can run from me—or from yourself?”

“I… I just…” My voice cracked. Tears pricked my eyes. “I can’t keep pretending. I can’t—”

He silenced me with a finger pressed to my lips, though his eyes never softened. Danger, desire, and anger radiated off him like heat from molten metal. “You’re mine. And you will stay alive, whether you like it or not. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I whispered, trembling. My body pressed against his without realizing it, heat flaring, heart racing.

For a moment, the storm outside, the danger, the secret—all of it—dropped away. Just us. Just the electric tension between a man who could crush me and the man I was trying to hide from.

Then I remembered the intruder, the device, the pulse of light—the world outside hadn’t ended. Danger was everywhere. And Ethan’s grip wasn’t just control. It was protection, a claim I couldn’t deny.

I wanted to pull away. I wanted to fight. But my knees buckled, betrayal to instinct and desire both, and I collapsed slightly against him.

Ethan caught me, his hands firm, unyielding, and his gaze softened for a fraction of a second—concern, perhaps? Or calculation? I couldn’t tell.

“You’re not running again,” he said, voice low, tense, warning and promise rolled into one.

I swallowed, voice barely a whisper. “I… I don’t want to get you hurt.”

His laugh was cold, humorless. “I don’t care about me. I care about you. And right now, you’re too valuable to let disappear.”

Something inside me twisted. Relief. Desire. Terror. Guilt. All mixed into one potent cocktail, leaving me dizzy.

“You… you don’t even know who I really am,” I muttered. The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “Try me,” he said, voice hard, but his gaze lingered too long. Suspicion curling at the edges.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look away, but the fear in my chest screamed louder than the rain around us. If he found out… everything, everything, would fall apart.

A distant siren cut through the night. Somewhere, someone had called for backup. Someone who knew. Someone who was coming.

I realized, with stark horror, that my escape had only made things worse. And Ethan, my supposed protector, my captor, my obsession, had just tightened the chains I had been trying to slip from.

I felt a hand on my shoulder from behind. I spun—and froze. Another figure, taller, masked, holding a gun, aiming directly at me. And Ethan wasn’t in front this time.