Flash Marriage : Miss CEO wants a House-husband

Tonight, Dahila was going to propose to Tyler.

The elevator hummed as it rose toward the top floor, carrying Dahlia and the velvet box she’d been holding for the past twenty minutes. The box was small enough to hide in her palm, but it seemed to weigh as much as the world.

She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. Usually the man proposes to the woman but in Tyler situation she knew he took too long to contemplate things. So she took the bold step and bought the rings.

The city glowed softly below her ,cars sliding through the night like sparks. She’d seen this view a hundred times from her own office, but tonight it looked softer, gentler. Maybe because she was finally allowing herself to hope and dream again.

Dahlia wasn’t the kind of woman who gushed over romance.

People said she was cold and too strict and they were right . But Tyler had never flinched from that side of her. When her parents died and the company threatened to crumble under the paws of her greedy relatives , he’d been the one who stayed. He’d listened when she couldn’t speak, smiled when she forgot how

They had been together for two years now. It was time to make it official.

He wasn’t perfect, he was too charming and sometimes careless but he had loved her through the hardest seasons of her life. And tolerated her stoic exterior.

The elevator doors opened to the quiet luxury of Tyler’s penthouse.

Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she stepped out, greeted by the faint scent of his cologne. The place was half-lit, the city reflected in the tall windows like another universe.

She let herself smile, just a little. He didn’t know she was coming. The ring in her hand was supposed to be a surprise. She’d planned to walk in, make dinner, and finally ask the question that had been sitting in her chest for weeks.

Marriage had never been part of her plan, but Tyler made her think maybe she could want it.

The door recognized her fingerprint, sliding open with a muted click.

She stepped inside.

“Tyler?” she called softly.

No answer.

Laughter floated through the polished hall. Not the kind she was used to-Tyler’s polite, polished chuckles at events-but something raw, careless, private. She froze.

Her heart stumbled. Slowly, she set her heels down with more care, following the sound like a moth to fire.

The light spilled from a door left ajar.

The air in the corridor turned thin.

Her fingers tightened around the box until the edges dug into her skin. She should knock. Announce herself. Instead, something darker urged her closer.

She moved closer, slow, careful. The laugh came again, followed by the low murmur of a man’s voice-Tyler’s.

Her breath caught when she saw them.

Tyler. Shirtless, sheets pooled at his waist, his arm resting lazily around the very woman Dahlia trusted more than anyone. Yvaine. Her best friend since childhood. Her sister in all but blood. Dahlia had pulled Yvaine through school when her family couldn’t afford tuition. She had given her father a job when no one else would hire him. She had thought loyalty ran both ways.

But there Yvaine lay, sprawled across Tyler’s chest, her laugh tinkling through the air as though mocking Dahlia’s entire existence.

The velvet box in Dahlia’s hand grew heavy, unbearable.

Yvaine’s voice dripped with venom.

“Do you really think she’ll just hand everything over to you once you propose?”

“You’re worrying too much” Tyler replied, his tone lazy, amused. “She trusts me completely.”

Dahlia froze.

“She’d better” Yvaine whispered back. “You said she’s signing those papers at her birthday?”

Tyler’s lips curved into the smirk Dahlia used to think was charming. Now it was snake-like.

“Of course. Dahlia worships me. Always has. She’ll sign whatever contract I put in front of her. The inheritance, the company shares -it’ll all be under my name. She won’t even question it.”

Her lungs constricted. She pressed her palm against the doorframe, to support her weight.

Her father’s voice echoed in her memory-Be careful who you let close, little one. Power attracts the wrong kind of love.

She had laughed at the time.

Now she wanted to cry. And scream.

A pause, then the soft rustle of sheets, the unmistakable intimacy of bodies grinding on each other.

Her pulse roared in her ears.

Yvaine’s voice dropped to a whisper. “And after that?”

“After that?” Tyler’s laugh was quiet, confident. “I’ll end it baby. Dahlia’s… difficult. Too serious.”

Yvaine scoffed, trailing a finger down Tyler’s chest. “She acts so high and mighty. Like she’s untouchable. If only people knew the truth-she’s just a scared little girl hiding behind her father’s empire.”

The words sliced deeper than any blade.

Dahlia’s vision blurred, but she refused to let tears fall.

Tyler chuckled low, pulling Yvaine closer. “Let her keep pretending she’s strong. By the time she realizes what’s happened, it’ll be too late. The company will be mine, and Dahlia-” His tone turned cruel. “-will have nothing left but her pride.”

The ring box slipped from her trembling hand and hit the carpet with a muted thud.

She stared at the floor, vision swimming, the world narrowing to the sound of their voices and the steady beat of her own heart breaking.

For a moment she couldn’t move. She wanted to burst in, demand an explanation, scream. But the part of her trained for boardrooms and battles knew better.

Emotion was weakness. Weakness was blood in the water.

So she stood still, breathing through the hurt until her chest stopped shaking.

When she finally turned to leave, her shoulder brushed the side table by the door.

The blue-glass vase toppled.

The crash rang through the penthouse,.

She flinched.

That vase-she’d bought it herself the day Tyler moved in, as a house warming gift. She told him the swirling pattern meant calm and balance. He’d joked that they could both use some of that.

Now it lay in pieces, calm and balance shattered beyond repair.

Inside the bedroom, everything went silent.

Tyler’s voice broke the stillness, edged with alarm. “What was that?”

Dahlia didn’t wait to hear more. She pressed her hand over her mouth to trap the sound of a sob and hurried toward the service exit.

Her heels echoed once against the marble, then she was in the hallway, the door closing behind her with a soft hiss.

The elevator ride down felt endless. She stared at her reflection in the mirrored walls—perfect hair, perfect suit, the picture of composure. Only the smear of mascara at the corner of her eye betrayed the truth.

She picked up the ring box from her coat pocket, the one she’d snatched before leaving. It looked almost innocent again, smooth and small, as if it hadn’t just marked the end of everything.

When the elevator doors opened, the cool night air struck her like a slap as she exited the building. She inhaled sharply, desperate to steady herself, but the city blurred into streaks of light and noise. Her body moved on autopilot, carrying her through the streets with no destination in mind.

Her chest ached. Not just from betrayal, but from the cruelest truth: she had no one left. Her parents were gone, stolen in a car explosion that still haunted her dreams. Her relatives wanted nothing but her fortune. And now-Tyler. Yvaine. The two people she thought she could trust.

Her hands shook as she shoved the ring box into her pocket. Each step was heavier than the last, the glittering city lights mocking her loneliness. She didn’t notice the way her vision swam or how uneven her breathing had become.

All she knew was that she had to keep walking.

Because if she stopped, the grief might devour her whole.