The chauffeur

“It's 9 AM already…?” She asked herself before hurrying to the living room.

The sound of movement in the living room stirred Ivy awake. She pulled on her robe and followed it, her bare feet whispering over the polished floor.

Asher stood by the door, adjusting his cufflinks. The charcoal suit fit him with ruthless perfection, his tie sharp and precise. Morning light caught in his dark hair, but for a split second his gaze froze on her, loose waves tumbling around her shoulders, her robe carelessly knotted, skin flushed with sleep.

“You’re leaving already?” she asked softly.

His throat worked before his tone snapped back into place. “I have a meeting.”

She walked closer, tightening her robe. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll get dressed and we can leave together.” As he asked her to join the company temporarily, she thought it would be good to start from today. She can understand the company better.

He shook his head, slipping his watch over his wrist. “No. I have arranged a chauffeur for you and he will drop you and take you around. I don’t have time to wait.”

Her brows knit and a small smile formed at the corner of her lips. “Meeting… or you just don’t want to be seen with me?”

His hand paused over his briefcase. He looked up and gave her a blank look. “It isn’t like that.”

“Then what is it like?” she pressed. “Because from where I’m standing, you are going to control my meals, my schedule, my work, my whole life, but God forbid anyone sees us in the same car.”

His jaw flexed. “This isn’t about you, Ivy. I’m handling business-...”

“Business,” she cut in, her tone bitter. “Of course. That word explains everything.”

“Ivy.” His voice dropped lower, harsher, like a warning. “Don’t twist this.”

She gave him a long, searching look. “Then tell me the truth. Just this once.”

Silence stretched. His grey eyes flickered…regret? Hesitation? But the mask slammed back into place. “I don’t owe you explanations.”

The air thickened. Her lips curved faintly, without humor. “Right. Who am I? Just a fiancée until the baby is born.”

Without waiting for his reply, she turned and walked back toward her room, each step steady though her chest ached.

Behind her, the leather strap of his briefcase creaked under his clenched grip. His jaw locked, the muscle twitching violently as he watched the door disappear behind.

For a moment, his hand curled into a fist at his side. He looked like a man caught between walking out the door and breaking it down.

_____

“Mr Hayes, why did you arrange that for me? You didn't have to do that, considering I'm only bound to the company for this project.” Ivy spoke to the phone with a frown. She was already in a not so good mood but her old boss isn't helping much.

“You don't have to worry about that. You are still my employee. Just focus on the project.” Christopher Hayes said and cut the call without waiting for her to respond.

Ivy just let out a sigh and came down the stairs in a simple cream dress, the kind that wasn’t flashy but still made her look effortlessly graceful. The soft fabric moved with her, her hair loose around her shoulders, catching in the morning light. For a moment, she almost looked like she belonged here, in this cold, polished house that wasn’t hers.

Outside, the sleek black car waited, engine idling. Asher leaned against it, posture immaculate, suit cut to perfection. He looked every inch the untouchable CEO. But when his eyes lifted and caught her in that morning glow, something flickered. Just for a second, he forgot himself.

Then his mask snapped back into place.

“Get in,” he said, his voice clipped and cold, as though that fleeting slip had never happened.

Ivy paused on the last step, tightening her grip on her purse. Always commands, never requests. Her lips curved in the faintest smile. “What happened to your meeting?”

His jaw twitched. He hated being questioned, she could see it in the rigid set of his shoulders. “Don’t question me. Just get in.”

“You don't have any right to question me.” She looked at him in the eyes as those words rolled out of her mouth.

The words hung in the air like a challenge.

His eyes sharpened, storm-grey and unreadable. For a second, she thought he might actually deny her, that he might let the truth slip.

Silence. His grip tightened on his briefcase until the leather creaked. His chest rose, held, but no words came.

Ivy’s faint smile returned, bitter this time. “Don’t bother. I have my own car. And my own driver. From my job.”

Almost on cue, the silver sedan pulled up behind his. Her driver stepped out, rushing to open the door for her. She walked past Asher, brushing close enough to feel the cold aura of restraint rolling off him.

“See you at the office.”

And with that, she slipped into the car. The door closed softly, almost mockingly, before the sedan drove away, leaving Asher standing alone.

He didn’t move, but his entire body was taut with fury. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek, and his hand curled into a tight fist at his side. He told himself he wasn’t angry at her, but at the way she had looked at him, like she saw through him. Like she’d caught him hesitating.

Why does it bother him so much? She was right! He didn't have any right on her.

But by the time her car disappeared down the drive, his face was calm again. Only his clenched fist betrayed him.

_____

RED STAR GROUP

“Well, look who it is,” Hailey, the receptionist, drawled. “The fiancée of the year.”

Ivy’s heels clicked against the polished marble as she entered the Red Star lobby for the second time. Her chest tightened at the memory of her first day here, Hailey’s condescension, and how small she had felt under the weight of Hailey’s smirk.

Her eyes lifted lazily from the screen, locking onto Ivy. For a moment, silence. Then the corners of Hailey’s lips curved into something sharp.

Definitely, she’d seen the news.

Ivy drew in a breath, steadying herself, and walked forward. She works here. She knows the place. You need her to guide you. Don’t flinch, Ivy.

“Good morning,” Ivy said evenly.

Hailey leaned back in her chair, folding her arms, her nails a glossy red. “Well, well… look who’s back. Mrs. Cole-to-be.” The words dripped with mockery. Again.

Ivy’s jaw tightened, but she kept her tone calm. “I’m here to see where I’ll be working. Could you-...”

“Of course,” Hailey cut her off sweetly. “Wouldn’t want the boss’s little project getting lost, would we?”

Before Ivy could respond, the click of stilettos cut through the lobby. A tall, stylish woman swept toward the desk, her perfume announcing her arrival before her voice did. She wore a designer dress that clung perfectly, her jewelry glittering under the lights.

“Hailey, darling!” the woman trilled, barely glancing at Ivy. She leaned across the counter, chatting as though Ivy was invisible. “Did you see my future husband today? He’s late again, and he even postponed a really important meeting. Can you believe it?”

Ivy completely ignored her words and urgency filled her in. She was not interested in their chitchat and wanted to get done with the day.

Gathering her composure, she spoke up. “Excuse me-...”

The woman turned at last, her perfectly lined brows lifting. She looked Ivy up and down, slow and dismissive, then gave a small, disinterested laugh. “And you are… who, exactly?”

Before Ivy could answer, Hailey’s lips curved into a wicked smirk. She tilted her head, her voice sing-song sweet.

“Oh, her?” Hailey said, enjoying every second. “That’s the mother of your future husband’s baby. Lol.”

The words landed like a slap in the air between them, sharp enough to make Ivy’s cheeks burn and the woman to fume.