17

The atmosphere in the luxurious living room had morphed from a tense stage to a cozy, emotional trap.

​Adrienne's mind was racing, her carefully constructed defenses dissolving under the unexpected warmth of Mrs. Devereux's approval and the glaring silence of the unscripted question.

​"Tell me, Adrienne, how did you two meet for the first time?"

​Adrienne's head snapped toward Alexander, her eyes silently screaming the words: HELP ME, YOU IDIOT!

​Alexander, however, was still momentarily paralyzed, not by the question, but by the echo of Adrian's secret look in Adrienne's face. The fleeting softness in her eyes—the genuine wish behind her "till death do us part"—had rattled his detached armor.

​He caught the desperate plea in her green eyes and the sudden sheen of panic on her forehead. He knew this was the critical moment.

​Before Adrienne could utter the wrong, contradictory word, Alexander smoothly leaned forward, his arm tightening around her waist and pulling her hip to his.

​He rested his chin on the top of her head, his voice low and rich, sounding genuinely possessive. "Mother, you know I don't believe in the modern 'meet-cute' nonsense."

​He paused, letting his gaze sweep over the room before settling on his mother. He was weaving a narrative that played into his known personality—a man who valued competence and efficiency above all else.

​"We met where I meet all people who are serious about their future: at the office."

​Mrs. Devereux blinked, clearly expecting a more romantic story. "The office? That's rather… boring, Alexander."

​"Hardly, Mother," Adrienne jumped in, taking the cue and seizing the momentum.

​She shifted under Alexander's chin, forcing him to keep the intimate pose while she spoke to his mother. "It was the most terrifying, most romantic thing I've ever experienced."

​She looked up at Alexander's profile, smiling with a calculated admiration that was designed to make his mother swoon. "I was a junior consultant, working on an acquisition project he was leading. It was late—past midnight. Everyone else had left. I was standing in the boardroom, staring at a financial model that just wouldn't balance. I was frustrated, exhausted, and honestly, on the verge of tears."

​She squeezed Alexander's arm. "And then he walked in. He looked exactly like this—perfect suit, perfectly composed. I nearly dropped my laptop. I just saw this ruthless, cold billionaire who probably ate small consultants for breakfast."

​Mrs. Devereux was leaning in now, captivated. "And then?"

​"He didn't yell. He didn't even look at the model. He just walked right up to me, took the charts out of my hand, and pointed to a line item. He said—and I'll never forget it—'Your logic is flawed, but your effort is commendable.' Then he balanced the entire model in under three minutes."

​She looked at Alexander's mother, her expression softening. "He fixed the numbers, but he completely broke my concentration. When he finished, he didn't just leave. He looked me straight in the eye, and the ruthless businessman was gone. He looked... tired. And he said, 'Go home, Adrienne. Get some sleep. I'll make sure you never have to work this late again if you just agree to wake up next to me instead.'"

​Adrienne finished with a sweet, breathy sigh, leaning her head against Alexander's shoulder. The story was manipulative and over-the-top, but it successfully merged Alexander's business persona with a sudden, irresistible moment of romantic weakness. It was a lie he couldn't easily contradict.

​Mrs. Devereux covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, my darling! That is precisely what I mean! The moment the ruthless man cracks—that's the true romance! Isn't that right, Alexander?"

​Alexander, listening to the entirely fabricated tale, felt a dangerous mixture of awe and fury. Her acting wasn't just convincing; it was brilliant. She had not only saved the situation but had crafted a story that made him look like a commanding, irresistible hero.

​He squeezed her waist, a silent warning beneath the cover of affection, and leaned down, kissing the top of her head firmly. "She fills in the dramatic details, Mother," Alexander said dryly, still playing his part.

​"But the essence is true. She was the most competent person in the room, and I decided I needed that competence—and her—for life." He pulled away slightly, his eyes cold as he locked them on Adrienne.

​He was giving her a private, silent message: Slow down, you're doing too much.

​"Now, Mother," Alexander continued, his tone authoritative, "Lawrence can take your luggage up. Since Adrienne seems to be such a diligent, doting wife, perhaps she can help me run some quick analysis in my room. I will speak to Mary about dinner." He stood up, pulling Adrienne with him.

​He needed her out of the room so he could deal with his suddenly messy thoughts and, more urgently, so they could have a crucial private conversation before she spiraled further out of his control.

​"Come on, sweetheart," he said, the endearment laced with a barely concealed threat, as he kept a firm grip on her arm. "Duty calls."

​"I will see you soon, Adrienne. I'm so glad Alexander decided to marry a beauty with brains. Perhaps we can go over some designs together," Mrs. Devereux mentioned as Alexander gently led Adrienne up the stairs.

​"Yes, Mother. I'll be glad to work with you," Adrienne waved as she hurried her pace to keep up with Alexander's pull.

​The moment they climbed the first staircase and went out of Mrs. Devereux's view, Adrienne gasped as her back slammed against the wall, followed by Alexander's strong hands pressing against her shoulders.

​"Now listen to me, and listen good," Alexander whispered huskily, his veins popping in the sides of his head and arms, and his icy blue eyes boring into Adrienne's face.

​"Ohh, Papi loves kinky, so do I—"

​"Can you shut up?" Alexander growled, taking his hands away from her, but he didn't stop his glare.

​"Oh? I thought you wanted us to try some sneaky moves... You know... it would be exhilarating to do naughty things with your mother just down the stairs—"

​"Enough," Alexander said, silencing her and dragging her up the remaining stairs.

​Adrienne was buying time for herself; she needed to leave. There was no way she was sleeping over at her boss's house with this silicone hugging her body like a glove.

​She needed to get out of it, and Alexander's house was the worst place to get rid of Adrian's disguise.

​Even if her room were free of a camera, she still couldn't risk it. What if Alexander barged in when she was sleeping, and instead of seeing his delicate wife sleeping soundly, he was greeted by the shocking image of his tired, ugly, clumsy secretary sleeping half-naked on the bed?

​No, that was a billion-dollar scene neither Adrienne nor Adrian was ready to face.

​Alexander dragged Adrienne into a dark room, kicking the door closed.

​Shit, this is his room! What is he up to? Adrienne gulped at the familiar scent Adrian had encountered when his boss took him to change his shirt in his private room at the company.

​The light came on and Adrienne was greeted by dark curtains draping the walls. "Dark curtains? In a room? Boss, you're doing too much—"

​"What did you call me?" Alexander snapped at Adrienne, his jaws tight.

​Adrienne kicked herself, cursing internally. "I... I said Boss. Why?" She flipped the coin, becoming defensive.

​It was better to be defensive than suspicious.

​"You called me boss. I heard that right. Why?" He started striding over to her in slow steps, his eyes scanning her curvy body, and his mind almost exploding from the crazy thoughts that formed in there.

​Adrienne scoffed. "Wait, don't tell me it's what that secretary of yours calls you?" She met him halfway, smirking as she placed her hand on his rigid shoulder.

​"Mr. Husband, why does it feel like you're sensitive whenever it comes to your secretary? You almost went berserk when you smelled his scent on my neck. Now, I call you boss and you flip with such a provocative look in your eyes. Tell me, husband, I keep secrets," she leaned closer, her breath fanning the side of his neck. "Are you gay, Papi?" she whispered.

​Alexander felt a sense of déjà vu from Adrienne's question.

​He recalled asking Adrian the same thing just before leaving the office today. Now, his wife was asking him the same thing.

​"Get your hands off me, woman." He caught her hand and gripped her wrists tightly.

​Adrienne's face winced. Alexander was hurting her, but it wasn't his grip; he was holding the same place Chloe had scratched Adrian earlier at the office. Before stepping out, she had used a good amount of foundation and powder to cover the scratch marks. If Alexander saw it, there was no way he wouldn't put two and two together.

​"You're hurting me, Papi... let go." She snatched her hand from him and immediately looked to check if he had rubbed off her disguise.

​She sighed in relief when she saw her skin still looking flawless.

​Alexander cursed under his breath and strode toward the large bed, massaging the sides of his head.

​His sharp jaws clenched tightly, his shoulders tensed, and veins popped out in his arms as he fisted his hands in frustration.

​He was frustrated at both Adrienne and Adrian. He couldn't understand why both of them seemed to know the right nerve to strike to get him worked up.

​"Are you alright?" Adrienne asked, moving cautiously close to her husband.

​Alexander slowly lifted his face. He looked so pissed, but when he spoke, his voice was so calm and gentle.

​"Sit with me, Ms. Adrienne." Alexander gently patted the space beside him.