After Marrying My Boss Novels & Stories

I said with a frown. “For the whole company,” he replied matter-of-factly. My eyes widened. “N-No! I don’t want everyone to know I’m marrying my boss!” I protested, throwing my hands up. He frowned. “Why not?” “What will people think once they find out? They’ll label me a social climber or a gold-digger,” I said, my voice cracking with frustration. “I thought you wanted everyone to know about our wedding,” he countered, brows furrowed in thought.

The man who would be there through thick and thin. She gave their marriage her all—her heart, her time, even the dreams she'd once kept for herself. But reality turned out to be far more brutal than any love story she had imagined. Everything shattered the night she walked into their bedroom and saw him... with her. Her breath had caught in her throat at the sight of their bodies entangled under the dim light. There was no shame on Rico’s face. If anything, he looked like he was enjoying it. As if that betrayal wasn’t enough, he had the audacity to serve her with divorce papers the next day.

“You’re my wife, and I’m your boss. I’m not going to fire you, so stop worrying about that. I already told the manager that the two of us are meeting a client today.” She stared at him for a second, fingers curling and uncurling at her sides. “I never knew you were this sensible.” “I was sensible enough to marry a woman as beautiful as you.” His voice stayed calm, almost gentle. “Jemima Greyson, I’m proud to call you my wife.” The words scraped against every raw nerve she had. She exhaled sharply through her nose. “Who asked you if you’re proud or not? You just love ruining my morning. Actually, you love ruining my entire day.”

I sat on the couch, thread in hand, and realized I had nothing to repair. The knock came at 9:47 PM. I checked the peephole without thinking. A woman stood in the hallway—gray coat, green-gray eyes, sunglasses pushed into blonde hair. The woman from the bakery. The woman who'd cut the line, who'd looked at me like furniture she was deciding whether to keep. She smiled. Sharp. Beautiful. Terrible. "Darling," she said, her voice carrying intensity, like she already owned the space I'm in. "I heard Alexander got married. Again." A pause. The smile widened, showing teeth. "I simply had to meet the replacement."

he joked. His boss wasn't married? I don't know why I was shocked but I didn't know what exactly I thought. He never came off as married or single to me. Maybe him being married is based on personal reasons. “Maybe he doesn't want to get married “ I found myself saying. “Nonsense,” he laughed “what sort of a man doesn't want a wife to himself to keep” What an odd thing to say. “What if he doesn't want to keep a wife?”

"I can’t. I have work, remember? My boss is paying me." "You’re my wife. Everything I own is also yours. Meaning, the company you work for is yours too." "Good point. That’s even more reason I shouldn’t go because I don’t want the company to go bankrupt," I said, laughing. "Resign already. So we can find someone to replace you." I was shocked by what he said. I didn’t want to leave! I loved my job! "But I don’t want to resign." "I'll tell everyone tomorrow that you're my wife. Of course, it wouldn’t look good if the boss’s wife was also an employee, right?"

he asked, his tone mixed with anger and hurt. Why was he hurt? He’s with Amber now. I raised an eyebrow, amazed by his audacity. "What business is it of yours?" I retort. Asher's voice took on a pleading tone. "It’s not even up to a month since we got divorced, and you are already married… and to my boss?” I rolled my eyes, feeling a surge of annoyance. "It's none of your business, Asher. You’ve said it; we are divorced, which makes me entitled to remarry. Now if you don't have anything important to say, I'll hang up on you."

Forgettable. By night… I was his wife. His kept secret. His most favorite person in the world. Just as he made a turn onto the main road, I turned my face toward the window, letting the passing lights blur into soft golden streaks. We were married. And no one could ever know. Not yet. He tightened his grip on my fingers as the traffic light turned red. I glanced sideways. The man who could command boardrooms, crush negotiations, and fire someone with a single nod… was now sulking like a kid who wanted cuddles.

He was married… to Isabella, my best friend, no less. I thought I was doomed. Completely, utterly doomed. Eric Graves appeared, like a flicker of hope cutting through the darkness in my life. I had thought how could I possibly be good enough for him? He was the most powerful mafia leader in New York City, and I was just a woman with a record, nothing but shattered pieces to offer. But Eric told me to never worry about being good enough, that he loved me for who I was. Now, standing here, I realized that I had married the very monster who had made my life a living hell.