Chapter 2: The other woman

LAURA’S POV

The next day dragged on like a painful blur, the only constant being the lump in my throat—a reminder of what awaited me later. I was going through the last batch of files when Elijah stormed out of his office.

“We’re going to pick up Miss Stone,” he said flatly, as if it meant nothing.

I felt bile rise in my throat and my stomach churned. I did my best not to show any reaction.

“But we have a meeting in five minutes,” I reminded him, scanning his schedule on the tablet.

“Cancel it,” he replied without blinking. I simply nodded, swallowing my frustration.

Moments later, we arrived at the airport. People bustled around us—some rushing, others waiting eagerly for loved ones. And here I was… waiting for my husband's childhood best friend. Or was it more than friendship?

“Do I really need to be here for Astrid’s grand welcome? The so-called love of his life?” I muttered under my breath, typing company models on the tablet.

Elijah glanced at his wristwatch, sighed, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“How important is Astrid to you, Elijah?” I wondered bitterly.

Soon enough, she appeared—walking out of the airport doors like she owned the runway. She was as beautiful as everyone claimed—short brown hair, a tiny waist, soft features, and hazel eyes.

She squealed and jumped into Elijah’s arms without even sparing me a glance. He hugged her back.

“Hi Eli, my pookie, I missed you!” she chirped.

Pookie? I nearly gagged. I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to scoff.

“Astrid, come on. I thought you’d stopped calling me that,” he said with a slight blush before quickly straightening up.

She giggled and hugged him tighter, rising on her toes to reach him. They looked like reunited lovers. I stood there, silently forcing myself not to react.

When they finally broke apart, she turned her sharp gaze to me. If looks could kill, I’d be buried by now. Her expression quickly switched to fake cheerfulness.

“Eli, is she your maid or something?” she asked with mock sweetness, pulling out an inhaler and taking a dramatic breath.

My blood boiled, but I kept my cool. I refused to let her rattle me.

Elijah laughed lightly and held her hand.

“No, she’s just Secretary Laura Jones,” he said.

Just a secretary.

I don’t know what I expected. A part of me still wanted him to say “my wife.” But then I remembered—we were still a secret.

I gave a small smile and extended my hand, only to be ignored. She shoved her purse into my arms.

“Oh, you’re so kind! Please carry this—I had such a long flight!” she said in that annoyingly high-pitched voice.

Unbelievable. This woman had no shame. Elijah chuckled, clearly entertained by my humiliation.

I handed the purse to Richard, Elijah’s bodyguard, and asked him to load the bags into the car. We all left for the Reed mansion in a long, awkward ride.

It was a luxurious limo, but I wished I was anywhere else. Astrid sat beside Elijah, hand on his, babbling non-stop about Paris and her trip.

Rich people problems, I thought bitterly, tuning them out.

How I wished my mother were still alive. We’d probably be making pancakes and orange juice, while Dad walked our late dog, Shelly. I missed my old life—the plans I had to start a jewelry shop with Mom. But her death changed everything.

When the car stopped, Elijah stepped out and opened the door for Astrid. I sighed and followed, but the door shut in my face. Typical Elijah.

Thankfully, Richard opened it for me with a polite smile. I carried Astrid’s bags inside while Richard parked the car. I stomped down the hallway, struggling under the weight.

“What is in here?” I grumbled.

“Laura, hurry with those bags. They go in the guest room next to mine,” Elijah called distantly.

I dropped the bags by the door and stretched my back. Astrid was already sprawled on the bed. No intention of helping. I wasn’t going to start a scene, but I was also done playing servant.

“I have work to finish,” I said firmly, hiding the frustration in my voice.

Elijah turned, smirking.

“Did you forget what I told you to do?” he asked, teeth gritted.

“What?” I blinked, confused.

“Prepare my guest for dinner. Make sure she’s comfortable and well rested.”

My eyes widened. He was serious. I was expected to babysit this grown woman?

“Okay,” I said stiffly, forcing a smile.

He kissed her forehead and held her shoulders tenderly. I nearly gagged. Why couldn’t he be that loving with me?

“I’m so tired, pookie. I’ll freshen up and join you for dinner,” she cooed.

Something about her felt off—and it wasn’t just the fake French accent. Elijah nodded and left the room, his cologne still lingering in the air.

As soon as the door clicked shut, she cleared her throat.

“Oh my, where did my Eli find you? Peasant,” she said, her voice dripping venom.

I rolled my eyes and didn’t bother responding.

“Everything you need is in the bathroom cabinet—towels, soap, whatever,” I said coolly, then turned and walked out. I could tolerate Elijah bossing me around—he was my boss and husband. But not this drama queen.

That evening, while typing up reports, I realized Elijah hadn’t given me the last batch of files. I walked toward his room. The hallway was quiet—until I heard laughter.

“Elijah, stop! You’re so funny. I don’t want anyone to hear us,” Astrid giggled.

“This isn’t going to be a short visit,” Elijah replied in a husky tone. “I want you to stay with me.”

More giggles. My heart sank.

“What about that secretary of yours? I don’t like how close she is to you, Eli,” she whined.

I reached the door, my hand trembling as I turned the knob. My chest tightened. My heart pounded.

And I opened the door…