Chapter 5

Third‑Person Point of View

Caleb had spent the previous day combing every department, photograph of the CEO’s wife in hand, yet still had not located her. He stared at the picture now, bewildered. Women of every pedigree chased Asher Windermere, but the bride he had chosen was a shy-looking “nerd.” Caleb scratched his head; the marriage had happened so suddenly he, the chief aide, had learned of it only afterward.

A sleek car pulled to the curb. Asher stepped out and Caleb hurried over with the other executives.

“Good morning, Sir—”

“Did you find her?”

Caleb swallowed. “She was off yesterday, Sir. Her co‑workers said she took an engagement‑leave day.”

Asher’s eyes narrowed. “Take me to her department.”

Caleb hesitated. Showing up unannounced could expose the young woman to the wolves of gossip. He leaned closer. “Sir, you told me we would not announce your marriage yet.”

“Asher”s voice dropped to silk. “Is it wrong to introduce my wife?”

“N‑no, Sir. Just… privacy, security—”

He broke off when he noticed curious staff nearby. “Let’s talk in your office,” he whispered.

Inside the executive suite Asher folded his arms. “Speak.”

Caleb took a breath. “This is not the right moment. If you march in and present her, the press will pounce. Your fans will hound her. You cannot guard her every second.”

Asher arched a brow. “You sound like a father. Are you my father now?”

“I’m worried for her, Sir. Was Miss Liliana Maeve Everhart really destined to marry you? Or was she—”

“I was not the man she was engaged to,” Asher interrupted.

Caleb’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God. Boss, did you kidnap her? Force her to the altar? She was engaged to someone else and you became the groom? That cannot be legal!”

“It is true I removed her from that hotel room,” Asher said flatly. “Spare me the moral lecture. My head aches already.”

“You—the world’s richest and most admired young businessman—abducted a fiancée on her engagement night and married her? Your image—”

“I regret nothing. Now move. I will see her.”

Asher strode for the door; Caleb threw himself in front of it, arms spread.

“Sir, please. Think of Miss Liliana. If the truth comes out she will be bullied, hated, maybe even harmed. Have mercy—if not on yourself, then on her.”

Asher paused, fingers brushing the wedding ring in his pocket, the ring Liliana had left on the bedside table beside a wad of guilt‑money. Caleb’s plea rang uncomfortably true.

“Very well. No announcement,” Asher said at last, “but I will visit her department. I need to see her with my own eyes.”

Caleb exhaled in relief and stepped aside. “Understood. Shall we?”

They walked through bustling corridors until they reached the marketing floor. Caleb opened the door; every employee inside ducked their heads.

“Welcome, Mr. Asher Calix Windermere,” the department greeted in nervous chorus.

Asher scanned the rows until he spotted Liliana—head bowed, glasses glinting. A smile tugged at him, quickly suppressed.

“Raise your heads,” he ordered.

Faces lifted; Liliana’s mouth parted in shock. Their gazes caught like sparks.

“It is good to see you… again,” Asher murmured, stepping closer. Caleb’s pulse spiked—would the CEO blow his own cover? But Asher only addressed the department head behind Liliana.

“I am touring today,” he said coolly. “Your office is immaculate. I appreciate that.”

“Thank you, Sir,” the manager gushed. “We know how you dislike untidy spaces.”

Asher nodded, yet he saw the flicker of disappointment on Liliana’s face. “I need to review certain files,” he announced. “May I?”

“Of course, Sir. This way.”

Passing Liliana’s desk, Asher let his hand brush hers. She jerked at the contact, eyes huge. He followed the manager into a side office; the instant the door closed, Liliana sank into her chair, a hand pressed to her mouth.

“Wh‑what is happening?” she whispered. “His name isn’t Fernando… it’s Asher?”

She stood abruptly. “I need the restroom,” she muttered and hurried out. In the mirror she splashed cold water on her cheeks, removed her glasses, and stared at her own wide eyes.

“He did not recognize me,” she whispered. “Of course he didn’t. I was just a stranger that night. He will not remember.”

She replaced her glasses, trying to steady her breathing, when the door swung open. Mirabelle entered, chatting with another woman.

“Oh?” Mirabelle’s brows rose theatrically. The other woman asked, “Isn’t that your friend, Mari?”

“Former friend,” Mirabelle purred, washing her hands. “How are you, Liliana?”

Liliana straightened. There would be no tears today. She smiled sweetly. “I am fine. I have no dirty secrets to hide. Enjoy my ex‑fiancé, Mirabelle—devour him whole.” She brushed past them before the smug woman could reply.

Back in the corridor she froze: Gerald stood outside her department, scanning the area like a bloodhound.

“Damn,” Liliana breathed.

*****

LMCD22