The CEO's Evil Wife

Veronica's heels clicked against the marble floor of Morgan & Associates, each step echoing through the silent corridors of the prestigious company. After three years of managing their London office, she hadn't expected her return to feel quite so... foreign. The familiar scent of leather and pine still lingered in the air, but something was different. Perhaps it was the weight of duty that now bound her to this place. Four years into their arranged marriage, and she still felt like a stranger in her own life. The merger of two powerful families - hers with old money and social standing, his with legal empire and political connections. A perfect match on paper, orchestrated by parents who valued alliances over affection. She passed by the reception area where new faces looked up at her with polite curiosity. To them, she was Mrs. Morgan, though the name still felt foreign on her tongue. Her wedding ring caught the light - a beautiful cage, gilded in family expectations and social obligations. The afternoon sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the modernist artwork. Veronica allowed herself a moment to admire the view. At least the office offered better distractions than their silent dinners at home. While love might have been absent from their arrangement, Veronica held firm to her principles. Marriage was a contract, and she honored her contracts with unwavering dedication. The same couldn't be said for everyone, she mused, thinking of the whispers she’d heard about James’ attractive new secretary. The London assignment had been a welcome break, a chance to prove her worth beyond her marriage certificate. She had transformed their struggling satellite office into a profitable venture in just three years. Business, at least, was something she understood perfectly. As she approached the executive floor, she straightened her. She might not have chosen this marriage, but she would not allow it to become a mockery. Respect, if not love, was non-negotiable. The door to James’ office was slightly ajar. Through the gap, she could see him at his desk, his dark hair perfectly styled as always. His secretary, Ms. Parker, was leaning over his shoulder. Their heads were close together as they examined what appeared to be financial files. She paused, observing the scene with the same cold calculation she applied to hostile takeovers. The secretary’s hand rested perhaps a touch too familiarly on the back of James’ chair, her body angled just so. But she merely smiled, a sharp, knowing curve of her lips. Marriage might have been a business arrangement, but fidelity was a clause she would enforce. Not out of love or jealousy, but out of principle. The Morgan name was now hers too, and she protected what was hers - whether she wanted it or not. Veronica watched as the secretary laughed softly at something her husband said, her perfectly manicured hand briefly touching his shoulder. The scene might have angered a woman in love, but she felt only a cool determination. Some boundaries needed to be reinforced. She smoothed down her suit. She wasn't here to stake an emotional claim - such displays were beneath her. She was here to maintain order, to protect their carefully constructed facade of marital harmony. She pushed the door open with deliberate grace, her presence immediately commanding the room’s attention. “Darling,” she said, her voice carrying the polite warmth of a business dinner with just a hint of warning. “I thought I’d surprise you.” The secretary straightened up quickly, a flush creeping up her neck. James’ expression remained carefully neutral, though something flickered in his eyes - recognition, perhaps, of the unspoken rules they lived by. “Veronica,” he acknowledged, rising from his chair with practiced courtesy. "You're back early." She allowed a measured smile to grace her features, watching as the secretary discreetly gathered her papers and moved aside to the corner. “The London situation required less time than anticipated. I trust everything here has been... properly maintained in my absence?” As James moved to greet her with their usual formal kiss on the cheek, she caught their reflection in the window — the perfect power couple, their personal feelings irrelevant to the empire they were built to maintain. Love might not have brought them together, but propriety would keep them that way. Their marriage was a masterpiece of appearances, each gesture and word carefully choreographed for maximum effect. As Veronica settled into the leather chair across from his desk, she couldn't help but appreciate the irony — they were perhaps most convincing as a couple when they were furthest from genuine intimacy. “Darling, I need to discuss something with you,” she said smoothly, though her eyes held a sharp edge. “In private.” Sarah glanced up, her hands still holding the stack of documents. “Sarah, would you mind giving us a moment?” James asked kindly. “Actually,” Veronica interrupted before Sarah could respond, “perhaps you could finish those files at your desk? This might take a while.” Sarah nodded quickly, gathering the remaining papers. “Of course, Mrs. Morgan. I'll organize these outside.” She hurried out, closing the door behind her. As soon as the door clicked shut, Veronica’s pleasant expression vanished. “I don't appreciate having to wait while your secretary hovers around you like a leech.” “Veronica, she was just doing her job,” James said, his voice taking on a defensive tone. “Oh? And does her job require her to spend every waking moment in your office?” Her voice was quiet but sharp. “Don't start this again. Sarah is an excellent employee, and I won't have you treating her with disrespect.” “Respect?” Her eyebrow arched. “Is that what you call it? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like something else entirely.” James’ jaw tightened. “I’m not having this conversation. If you came here just to make accusations—" “Oh, I'm not accusing,” Veronica cut in, her smile cold. “I’m observing. And I don’t like what I see.” “Then perhaps you should consider seeing less,” James replied, his tone clipped. He returned to his chair, his fingers drumming impatiently on the polished wood of his desk. Veronica’s smile sharpened further, her calm exterior lying the storm brewing beneath. “You misunderstand me, James. I’m not here to argue about your secretary or your poor taste in office decorum. I’m here to remind you of the terms of our arrangement.” He leaned back, crossing his arms, his sharp eyes studying her with faint amusement. “Our arrangement? Enlighten me, Veronica.” She rose slowly, her movements deliberate and stepped closer to the desk. The sunlight caught the delicate glint of her wedding ring, a subtle reminder of the chains they both wore. “This marriage is built on appearances. It thrives on respect and order. Any instability from that puts everything—your empire, my reputation, our families—in jeopardy.” “And you think I’ve sway away?” His voice was calm, almost mocking, but there was a glint of unease in his eyes. “I don’t think, James. I know.” Her tone was icy. “And while I have no intention of prying into your extracurricular interests, I will not allow those interests to tarnish the Morgan name—or mine.” James’ lips thinned, his demeanor shifting. “You have no proof of anything, Veronica. You’re just overthinking." She tilted her head, her gaze unwavering. "Proof isn't necessary. Perception is reality in our world. And right now, your secretary’s infatuation with you—and your apparent tolerance of it—creates the wrong perception.” He exhaled sharply, leaning forward. “So, what do you propose, my dear wife? Should I fire her based on your baseless assumptions?” Veronica leaned in, her voice dropping to a near whisper, sharp and cutting. “I propose you remember who I am. I didn’t claw my way through corporate trenches and revive a dying office in London to have my position undermined by someone who files your papers. If you want to keep her around, do so—discreetly. But understand this, if she oversteps again, I won’t hesitate to act. And my actions won’t be discreet.” A tense silence fell between them, the air thick with unspoken threats. James studied her for a moment, then smirked faintly. “You truly are remarkable, Veronica. Cold, calculating, and relentless. It’s almost admirable.”