All Chapters of Flash Marriage : Miss CEO wants a House-husband : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The wind whipped against Dahlia’s face as she walked, her heels clattering unevenly across the wet pavement. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost one earring, her lipstick was smeared, and her usually immaculate hair was tangled by the night air. She didn’t care. The velvet box in her pocket burned a hole in her pocket. Every time it brushed against her leg, she felt the betrayal pulse again like a heartbeat. She couldn’t bring herself to throw it away, though it felt like a cruel joke now. She walked without direction, through streets that shimmered with neon and rain. The city pulsed around her, alive and indifferent. Music leaked from open doorways, laughter spilled out of bars. Every face she passed seemed to belong to someone who still had a reason to smile. Somewhere between grief and fury, Dahlia realized she was crying. Silent, angry tears that burned her cheeks before the cold wind dried them away. The last time she cried was at her parents funeral , a year ago, and she pr

The city blurred outside the car window. Dahlia pressed her temple against the glass, eyes half-closed, wishing the motion could wash away the morning. She still couldn’t believe it. She’d woken up married. To a stranger. To him. Beside her, Nate sat with one arm draped casually across the back of the seat, a grin playing on his lips as if he were driving to brunch, not an annulment. Every few seconds he glanced her way, clearly enjoying the contrast between his good mood and her thundercloud scowl. “Stop smiling,”she muttered. “Can’t help it, wife” he said easily. “Don’t call me that.” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s growing on me” Her fingers clenched tighter around the phone in her lap. “This is a nightmare.” “Maybe for you,” he murmured. “I’m having a great day.” She shot him a glare, but he only chuckled, the sound low and unbothered. Her phone buzzed again. Tyler. The name stabbed through her calm. She turned the screen face-down, jaw tightening. Of course he’d be call

Tyler’s voice echoed through the glittering ballroom, confident and dripping with charm.He held a glass of champagne high, his grin as wide as the lies he lived on.“I just want to start by saying,” he began, “that I’m the luckiest man alive to have this woman in my life.” “I get to wake up every day and know that I somehow convinced her to stick around.” He pointed toward Dahlia again, and the crowd chuckled. “She’s brilliant. She’s fearless. She’s so quick-witted she can make an insult sound like a compliment. Believe me, I’ve been on the receiving end of both.”More laughter. Dahlia’s smile never faltered, though her knuckles whitened on the stem of her glass.Go on Tyler. Perform Tyler continued, his voice warm and performative. “She runs companies, she scares executives, and-don’t let that icy expression fool you-she’s got a heart somewhere in there. I think.” He pressed a hand to his chest, mock wounded.“She’s beautiful- obviously. But she’s also… uh, very talented in other ar

The morning light crept through the tall glass windows of the penthouse, painting soft gold across the marble floor. Dahlia eased open her bedroom door, careful not to make a sound. Her heels clicked lightly as she tiptoed into the hall, purse in hand, determined to make it out before he woke up.Her plan was simple: she had timed everything perfectly - wake up early, get dressed quietly, leave early, avoid conversation and avoid the man. If she could avoid Nate for even one morning, maybe she’d reclaim a sliver of normalcy. Nate was many things, but punctual wasn’t one of them-at least, that’s what she’d assumed.She was halfway to the door when a smooth, deep voice filled the air.“Good morning, wife.”Dahlia froze mid-step.No. Absolutely not. He couldn’t be up already.She turned slowly, her hair falling over one shoulder as her eyes landed on him-in an apron. An apron. Standing at her stove like he owned it. A sizzling pan of eggs in one hand, a wooden spatula in the other.“Bre

The day had finally come to an end.Dahlia was starting to think she’d gotten trapped in a time loop, with how painfully slow it had dragged on.The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, releasing Dahlia into the quiet corridor that led to her penthouse. She exhaled slowly, shoulders heavy from the endless string of meetings, numbers, and carefully measured smiles. The day had been long—long enough that even her heels felt heavier than usual.The elevator opened directly into her living room, and she stepped through the doors expecting the usual: silence, a few lights left on, maybe the faint hum of the city below. She would grab takeout, go over tomorrow’s notes, and fall asleep halfway through an email.That was her plan.Until the rich, mouthwatering aroma hit her.Dahlia stopped dead in her tracks. The air was warm with the scent of something savory and buttery, laced with herbs. What in the world-Then she remembered.She wasn’t alone anymore.“Welcome home, wife.”Nate’s v