15

He was in the middle of buttoning up his shirt, positioned between his chair and the desk like he owned the entire room.

Because he did.

The realization hit her like a slap.

Her breath caught.

For a second, she couldn’t move.

She couldn’t think. Alexander Harrington is the boss. Her husband is her boss.

She smiled.

“So I'm married to my boss.” She murmured inwardly. “I won’t have to worry about anything, yes”

“Is it that you don’t have respect,” Alex’s voice cut through the silence, cold and sharp, “or you are just like this?”

He didn’t even try to hide the irritation in his tone.

His eyes flickered over her briefly—dismissively—before settling back into that same indifferent expression.

As if he had never seen her before.

As if he didn’t know her.

As if she wasn’t his wife.

Elara’s lips parted slightly, her mind scrambling to process what was happening.

She looked around the office quickly, as though expecting someone else to appear.

Someone else had to be the boss.

This had to be some kind of mistake.

“You aren’t the boss, right?” she asked, a grin forming on her face despite the chaos swirling inside her.

Her voice carried a hint of disbelief.

A hint of hope.

Alex didn’t smile.

Didn’t react.

Didn’t even hesitate.

“One more word,” he said, his voice dropping dangerously low, “you’ll be fired.”

The threat hung heavily in the air.

Cold.

Final.

And completely void of emotion.

He spoke like a stranger to her, they never agreed to that.

Elara’s expression hardened.

She glared at him.

Really?

He was going to pretend?

She smirked. "Are you really going to pretend like you don’t recognise me? Alex...no one is here and it's a good thing that you're the boss."

Alex walked over to his chair and sat down, his movements controlled and effortless. He adjusted himself behind the desk, picking up a pen as if he had more important things to do than acknowledge her existence.

He didn’t even look at her.

Elara took a step closer. Then another.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him, searching his face for any crack in that perfect mask.

Nothing.

“Am I hallucinating?” she muttered under her breath.

Because this couldn’t be real.

“What’s your name?” Alex asked suddenly, his tone clipped. Professional. Detached.

Elara blinked.

For a moment, she just stared at him.

Then. “Elara Harrington...”

She stopped herself mid-sentence. She's not using his surname, after a year they'd be done.

Her heart skipped.

No.

She couldn’t say that.

She shook her head slightly, correcting herself.

“Elara Wilson,” she said, forcing a smile onto her lips.

“That’s my name.”

Inside, she was fuming.

She wished—God, she wished—she could walk right up to him and smash his head against that desk.

How dare he?

How dare he act like he didn’t know her?

Like she was just another employee?

Like she wasn’t the woman he had married?

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.

But she held herself back.

Because she needed this job.

And he knew it.

“Get out,” Alex said flatly. "If you're going to keep staring at me like a fool."

"Did you just call me a fool?" Elara smirked.

He said nothing.

“Alex—”

“Mr. Alexander Harrington,” he snapped, his voice rising as his eyes finally met hers. “Address me with respect.”

The authority in his tone made her flinch inwardly but she didn’t show it.

Elara rolled her eyes.

"You're so lucky." she thought. "Because if I didn’t need this job… If I wasn’t standing here because I've got no other choice…I would have torn you apart with my words."

“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice dripping with forced politeness.

Then she turned and walked out.

The door closed behind her with a soft click.

Alex leaned back in his chair.

A quiet chuckle escaped his lips.

“She’s so rude,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head slightly.

But there was something else beneath that amusement.

His gaze lingered on the door she had just walked through.

He exhaled slowly.

No one could find out about their marriage, it was temporary and it's a contract for one year.

That was all it was ever meant to be.

And when that year was over. They would go their separate ways.