Chapter 1

My first day as my father-in-law's secretary, Mr. Nathaniel Whitmore, CEO of Whitmore Group, Europe's largest property and energy conglomerate felt like hell.

Not because the work was heavy, but because of the sharp stares and the employees' endless whispers that never tired of insulting my unideal body.

"Look at her, wearing an XXL blazer and it's still tight around her arms."

"How could she possibly become Mr. Nathaniel's personal secretary? No way it's because of her ability."

"She's Derek's wife, right? Oh my God, Derek Whitmore, that handsome, married a fat woman? Must be for the money."

I, Seraphina Whitmore, swallowed bitterly. My fingers gripped the edge of the wooden desk. Inside, I counted to ten, a technique taught by the marriage therapist I paid for myself six months ago. But apparently, even the therapist's money couldn't heal my wounds.

My only purpose for working here: to prove that my husband, Derek Whitmore, was cheating with his perfectly slim personal assistant, Anita Rosé Bennett.

Derek always evaded. Coming home late with the scent of forbidden floral perfume I'd never known. His phone always face-down on the dining table, and his eyes, once full of love, now avoided me.

So I asked for this job from Nathaniel, my father-in-law. I thought, at the office, everything would be revealed. I thought, by posing as a secretary, I could spy on Derek's every move in this office.

But apparently, my fat body became the spectacle first.

I took a long breath, trying to ignore the sharp whispers. My fingers danced on the keyboard of the secretary computer I'd just occupied a small desk in the corner of Nathaniel's outer office.

The monitor screen reflected my puffy face from lack of sleep all night. I was still thinking about Derek, about the strange perfume scent on his shirt collar, about the short messages he always deleted, about his cold gaze when I asked how he was.

"Sera."

Nathaniel's voice called from behind the teak door of his office. I turned. He stood at the threshold.

"Bring these files to Derek's room," he said, handing me a thick brown folder.

I nodded obediently, stood from my chair, and took the folder. Nathaniel's fingers touched the tip of mine for a moment, longer than they should have. But I ignored it because it was probably just a coincidence.

"Alright, Mr. Whitmore."

"Call me Nathaniel," he said softly.

I only gave a small smile and turned around. My low heels squeaked on the marble floor as I walked toward the exclusive elevator. Inside the transparent glass cabin, my own reflection stared back at me sadly a plump body wrapped in a blazer that was too tight, messy black hair from rushing, and brown eyes that had lost their sparkle.

The elevator stopped on the 27th floor. In front of Derek's office door, I paused for a moment. From behind the door, I heard the sound of keyboard typing Derek working or pretending to work.

I knocked three times.

"Come in," Derek's voice sounded flat.

I opened the door and entered. Derek sat behind his large desk, his white shirt neat, his dark blue tie still perfectly looped around his neck. But his eyes, when he saw me, immediately narrowed in annoyance.

"You?" he said, his voice rising half an octave. "Why are you delivering the files? Where's the upstairs secretary?"

"Your father told me to," I answered flatly, placing the folder on the edge of his desk. "He said it's important."

Derek snorted roughly, scanning me from head to toe.

"Seraphina, seriously. Why do you have to work here? This is embarrassing. My wife as my father's secretary? What will my business associates think?"

"I need a job," I said, trying to stay calm. "You know that."

"You only need to stay at home! You're already embarrassing enough with your body that..." He stopped his words, but his eyes had already said enough. "Never mind. Put the file down, then leave."

I looked down, holding back the sting. But something caught my attention.

On Derek's desk, next to the keyboard, there was a small piece of black lace fabric like wet underwear.

My heart stopped beating for a second.

"What?" Derek turned following my gaze. His face went pale. "That's..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the bathroom door in the corner of the room opened.

Anita Rosé Bennett walked out. Her blonde hair was dripping wet, her face freshly washed, and her body was only wrapped in a small white towel that barely covered anything. She smiled sweetly at Derek.

"Sweetheart, my underwear is on the desk..." Anita said, but her voice cut off as her eyes met mine.

She was startled. Her towel nearly slipped as she stepped back.

"Sera? Why are you here?"

Derek stood up in panic, his hand running through his hair.

I stared at the wet underwear on the desk, then at Anita in the wet towel, then at my pale-faced husband. I couldn't move. I could only stare at the evidence of betrayal laid out before me.

Anita tried to smile awkwardly. "This is a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding? Wet underwear on my husband's desk, you walk out of the bathroom wearing only a towel, and you call this a misunderstanding?" I asked.

Derek walked toward me, his hand grabbing my arm. "Listen to me!"

"Don't touch me!" I pulled my hand away roughly. My chest heaved up and down, tears welled up but I held them back. "You said I was embarrassing. You said I should stay at home. Turns out you were afraid because I was interfering with your affair, weren't you?"

"That's not why," Derek said.

"I'm going to report this to your father. Let him know what his beloved son is really like," I said.

I turned and walked quickly toward the door. Behind me, I heard Derek shouting my name, but I didn't look back. I ran down the hallway, pressing the elevator button repeatedly with trembling hands.

When the elevator arrived, I stepped in and pressed the button for the top floor, but suddenly Derek pulled me back and hugged me.

"Forgive me, I'll fix my attitude, but please don't report this to my father. I'll lose my inheritance if I'm caught in a scandal. Let's fix this marriage, Sera," Derek said.