Chapter 6: The Perfect Wife

Rose’s POV

I arrived at the office early on Wednesday morning and opened my briefcase for what felt like the hundredth time. I searched every folder, every pocket, and every loose sheet of paper, even though I already knew what I would find.

Nothing.

I closed the briefcase and slid it beneath my desk. Sitting there and staring at the empty leather space would not bring the notebook back. I switched on my computer and forced myself to focus on work.

My stomach twisted without warning. The feeling washed over me, cold and sharp. I closed my eyes and rested a hand over the small life growing inside me.

“Not now,” I mouthed.

I took a deep breath and waited for the feeling to pass. This baby was my reason to survive, and I had to keep going. A minute later, my stomach settled. I opened my eyes and pulled up the financial reports for the morning meeting.

I read through the documents. One number caught my attention. I frowned. Then another number looked completely wrong. I traced the columns back to the original data. Someone had carried a previous calculation forward instead of updating the new profit margin for the steel contract. The numbers were off by two million dollars. A mistake like that would ruin the entire quarterly projection.

I adjusted the spreadsheet. I updated the final totals, corrected the margin formulas, and saved the document to the server. I did not tell Jake or the finance team. I just made sure the company did not look foolish during the upcoming presentation.

Washington Global had an exclusive interview scheduled for ten in the morning. A major business magazine sent a reporter and a photographer to our headquarters. A professional photo shoot was arranged inside the main conference room. The oak furniture was pushed back against the walls to make room for lights and cameras.

Vivian stood by the window in a tailored white suit. She smiled brightly and charmed the photographer. She knew exactly how to pose, tilting her head perfectly for the lens. She knew exactly when to laugh at the reporter's jokes. She had a natural grace with people that made everyone in the room relax.

Jake watched Vivian laugh with the photographer as if she had been born for moments like this. She filled the room without even trying. To him, she looked exactly like the wife a billionaire CEO should have. She was the perfect picture of success.

I stood behind the cameras, hidden behind the lights. That seemed fitting. The woman who built the empire had become invisible inside it.

The reporter sat down in a chair across from Vivian and began the interview. The first few questions were very easy. He asked about her vision for the company culture and her new charity initiatives. Vivian answered confidently. Her voice was steady, making the reporter smile and lean forward in his seat.

Then the questions became technical.

“Your expansion last year was extremely aggressive,” the reporter said. “How did Washington Global reduce construction costs while expanding into three different states at the exact same time?”

Vivian hesitated. The confident smile slipped from her face. “We hired more local workers,” she guessed.

The reporter tilted his head, clearly confused by the weak answer. Jake shifted on his feet. He suddenly looked very nervous.

I reached up and touched the microphone pinned to my collar, which connected directly to the earpiece hidden inside Vivian's ear.

“We renegotiated bulk material contracts and centralized our distribution hubs,” I whispered.

Vivian blinked. She quickly corrected herself. “What I mean is, we renegotiated bulk material contracts and centralized our distribution hubs to cut transport fees.”

The reporter nodded, writing quickly in his notepad. “Brilliant. And which strategy helped the company survive the recession when your biggest competitors failed?”

Vivian froze. She did not even try to guess this time. Her hands gripped the armrests of her chair. She stared blankly at the reporter.

“We liquidated underperforming assets early,” I whispered into the microphone. “We shifted all available capital to secure long term government contracts.”

Vivian repeated my answer confidently, sounding as though the strategy had been hers all along.

The interview continued exactly like this for another thirty minutes. The questions became harder, focusing on international trade regulations and tax structures. Vivian stopped trying to think. She just waited for me to talk. She began expecting my words before the reporter even finished asking his questions. She relied on me to keep her looking like a genius.

So that was it. My notebook had carried her through the interview, and now my voice was doing the rest.

The interview finally ended as a success. The reporter shook Vivian's hand.

“You have an incredible mind for business, Mrs Washington,” the reporter said. He left the room looking very impressed.

The media crew packed up their lighting equipment and exited the conference room. Jake walked toward us.

“Good work,” Jake said.

I looked up. For one foolish second, I thought he had finally seen me.

He stepped past me and rested his hand on Vivian’s shoulder.

“I meant Vivian.”

I stopped moving and looked down at the floor. That tiny moment hurt more than if he had ignored me completely.

The interview became the talk of the office for the next few days. Everyone anticipated the publication. Then the magazine was officially released. Copies were delivered to the headquarters and placed on tables in the main lobby and the break rooms.

I walked past the reception desk and saw the front cover. It featured a large picture of Vivian standing by the window, smiling confidently.

THE GENIUS BEHIND WASHINGTON GLOBAL.

Exclusive Interview With Vivian Washington.

I opened the magazine and read the first page of the article. My fingers froze. Every quote belonged to me. Every strategy belonged to me. Every success belonged to me. Only the face had changed.

I closed the magazine. Every word they gave Vivian reminded me of everything they had taken from me.

Employees lingered around Vivian's office all morning. I heard them talking as I walked past with my files.

“She is incredible,” a manager said, holding a copy of the magazine.

“Now I understand why Mr Washington married her,” another replied. “She is the whole package.”

It felt like they were rewriting my story right in front of me.

Later that afternoon, a maintenance worker measured the wall in Vivian's office. He took his time, making sure the frame was perfectly centered. He hung the framed magazine article directly behind her chair. Anyone who walked into her office would see it first.

I needed a moment away from the noise and the endless congratulations. I walked down the empty hallway and pushed open the door to the emergency stairwell.

The stairwell was empty. It was cold and quiet. I walked down a few steps and sat down on the concrete. I rested my arms on my knees and put my head down.

One tear fell from my eye. It rolled down my cheek and dropped onto the back of my hand.

Just one.

I reached up and quickly wiped my face. I took a deep breath, stood back up and smoothed the wrinkles on my skirt.

“Never again,” I whispered to myself.

It was a promise. I pushed the door open and went back to work.

Late that afternoon, the lobby elevator doors opened. A delivery man stepped out onto the executive floor carrying an arrangement of white orchids.

He walked straight to the reception desk. The receptionist signed a paper on his clipboard, admiring the beautiful display.

“Who are those for?” Jake asked, walking out of a meeting room.

The receptionist read the small address card tucked into the leaves. “They are addressed to the main office, sir. But there is no sender listed.”

Several employees stopped walking and gathered around the desk to look. Vivian walked out of her office. She saw the flowers and smiled immediately, clearly thinking they were a congratulatory gift for her magazine feature.

Jake stepped forward. He reached out and took the small white envelope out from between the white petals. He opened the seal and pulled out the card.

The hallway became quiet.

Jake just stood there, staring at the card and saying nothing.

“What does it say?” Vivian asked.

He ignored the question.

Congratulations to the woman who actually built Washington Global.

He slowly lifted his head to look at me.

I looked just as confused as everyone else.

Then he looked back at the message and gripped the card tightly.

No one knew what to say.