Adrian Wickham came to pick me up. The man who was always so cool and ascetic, so self-contained. He had let his new secretary sit in the passenger seat. And in that moment, I knew. This marriage wasn't going to survive. 1 The day Adrian Wickham came to pick me up, I pulled open the passenger door and froze. A young, beautiful girl was sitting there, flashing me a sweet smile. "Hi, Mrs. Wickham!" She was polite, but she made no move to get up and offer me the seat. My eyes narrowed, my gaze shifting to Adrian. He was on the phone, his head down, completely oblivious to the silent, crackling tension. We were supposed to be going to an auction together tonight. I had been looking forward to our date, had spent hours getting ready, only to find someone else occupying his passenger seat—my seat. "It's so nice to meet you, Mrs. Wickham. I'm Bella Locke, Mr. Wickham's new assistant." The girl's lips curved into an enthusiastic smile, revealing two dimples that made her look exceptionally sweet. "I heard you were going to a private auction tonight, and I begged Mr. Wickham to let me tag along and see what it's all about. Don't worry, I won't be in your way at all." My heart plummeted into a cold, dark abyss. I knew this man, this coolly perfect man, better than anyone. He maintained a careful distance from everyone. He didn't let people into his space easily. We had come together through an arranged marriage, a strategic alliance between our families. We had both considered our options carefully and chosen each other. Outsiders joked that I was signing up for a life of lonely nights with a man made of ice. But after we made it official, Adrian would hold me with a surprising warmth in his eyes. In moments of passion, the corners of his eyes would flush red. "You are my wife," he'd once told me. "We are a unit. You are different from everyone else." Today, it seemed, something had changed. 2 But I am not a shrinking violet who swallows her pride. I am Clara Shaw, and I've never had to second-guess myself when I'm angry. "Get out." My voice was ice, leaving no room for argument. The girl stared at me, stunned. She clearly hadn't expected me to humiliate her so directly on our first meeting. My tone must have been harsher than she'd anticipated, because for a moment, Bella looked completely lost. "I… I'm sorry, Mrs. Wickham." Her voice trembled on the verge of tears as she scrambled awkwardly into the back seat. Just then, Adrian finished his call and looked over at us. He instantly realized I was furious. A look of weary indulgence flickered across his face. He leaned over and fastened my seatbelt for me. I noticed the seat had been adjusted. A wave of irritation washed over me, and I jabbed at the controls, moving it back to my precise settings. The whole ordeal left me simmering with rage. "This is infuriating! Who dares to adjust my seat?" The air in the car turned frigid. The girl in the back was so intimidated she didn't dare make a sound. Adrian's brow furrowed slightly. His voice was calm as he suggested, "If you're not in the mood today, we can just go home." In the rearview mirror, I could see the girl silently weeping. I felt a surge of profound annoyance. "Bella Locke, is it? I'm not in the mood anymore. You can get a taxi home. Mr. Wickham and I are leaving." The girl's face went pale. She glanced weakly at Adrian, but he made no move to rescue her. Utterly dejected, she got out of the car. 3 Adrian would never humiliate me in front of outsiders. He had always been a master of self-control. Which is why he suggested we go home. If there's a problem, we solve it at home. That had been our unspoken rule for years. "She's just a college kid, fresh out of school. Why are you making such a big deal out of this with her?" Adrian said, pulling me into his arms. "It was the first time." He looked confused. "What was?" "In all these years, that was the first time you let another woman sit in your passenger seat." He hadn't realized that was what I was so upset about. Everyone in our circle knew how exceptional Adrian Wickham was. Countless women were infatuated with him, yet he remained aloof and untouchable, navigating a world of temptation without ever being swayed. A faint smile touched his lips as he ruffled my hair. "I can't believe I finally made you jealous." He leaned in to kiss me, his nose brushing against my cheek. "She's my subordinate, Bella. That's all. There is nothing, and there will never be anything, between us." He cupped my face in his hands, his gaze locking with mine as he made his solemn promise. 4 A woman's intuition is a powerful thing. Even though I had only met Bella once, my gut told me she had other ideas about Adrian. I thought my initial power play would be enough to put her in her place. I was wrong. The necklace from the auction—the one that was supposed to be mine—was around her neck the very next day. Kate, Adrian's chief of staff, sent me a photo and a screenshot of a social media post. In the picture, the crescent-shaped diamond necklace rested against Bella's pale throat, making her look even more delicate and lovely. Her eyes were swollen, but she had a triumphant little smile on her lips. She must have cried her eyes out last night and received a very generous consolation prize. The screenshot was of Bella's post: [Mr. Wickham says that a girl has to be strong even when she's been wronged! Wiping away the tears and getting back to work, sir! ] The post was accompanied by a picture of the necklace nestled in its box. For a moment, the blood in my veins felt like it was turning to ice. It's embarrassing to admit, but her little stunt almost made me lose my composure. It was a disgusting feeling, like finding a smear of grime on a pristine white silk cloth. The impulse was so strong I almost jumped into my yellow Ferrari, floored it to 120 mph, and slapped her across the face. But then I looked at my own hands and thought, Am I really letting some cheap little schemer get under my skin? That's beneath me. I made a call to my personal shopper at Hermès. Wendy's voice was practically buzzing with excitement. "Don't you worry about a thing, Mrs. Wickham," she promised. "Even if I have to buy out half of New York, I'll get everything you need and have it delivered today!" And so, that afternoon, before the workday was even over, every single female assistant to the executives at Wickham Industries headquarters, plus every woman in the general administrative office—a total of forty-six people, excluding Bella—received a generous gift from the CEO's wife: A twelve-thousand-dollar Hermès necklace. Individually, they were nothing compared to the two-hundred-thousand-dollar auction piece, but the sheer volume of them sent a very clear message. Kate handled the distribution flawlessly. Each recipient was required to post a photo on their social media with a specific caption: [A gift from the boss's wife! Mrs. Wickham says every girl deserves the best! Time to get to work! #BestBossWifeEver] The women were more than happy to comply. As assistants and admin staff, they were the nerve center of the company's gossip mill. Who wouldn't be thrilled to post about a gift like that? Some of the savvier ones even added their own commentary: [Mrs. Wickham really knows how to play the game!]. Individually, these assistants might not have had much power, but their collective ability to spread information was terrifying. Within half an hour, the entire company knew that the CEO's wife had gifted them all Hermès necklaces. As for why, the corporate rumor machine was already in overdrive. Bella's face was ashen. She looked deeply humiliated. With tears in her eyes, she fled to the restroom and took off the diamond necklace. Two colleagues who came in to touch up their makeup saw her and let out a knowing, derisive snort. Mortified, Bella kept her head down and hurried out, the sound of their unrestrained laughter chasing her down the hall. Her cheeks burning, she placed the necklace back in its box and returned it to Adrian, untouched. 5 Adrian had just finished a video call with a partner when he saw the girl, who had clearly been crying again, clutching the necklace box and staring forlornly at her feet. "What's wrong?" he asked, puzzled. Bella's tears started to fall before she could even speak. She sobbed softly, the picture of pitiable innocence. "Mr. Wickham, please take this back. I can't accept it." A flicker of annoyance crossed Adrian's stern face. His instincts told him something had happened, but he didn't press her. He simply watched her, waiting. Bella bit her lip, hesitating, before finally telling him everything that had happened in the office that day. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Wickham. I keep causing trouble for you. I just posted that to encourage myself. I don't know how Mrs. Wickham found out about it." She sniffled pathetically. "I didn't think she would get so angry." She looked as helpless as a little white rabbit. "Mr. Wickham, I want to apologize to her. I can explain everything to her in person." Adrian never looked at social media. His time was consumed by work. But as the CEO of a major corporation, he was all too familiar with the vicious rumor mill within its walls. His already stern expression grew even colder. "I understand," he said, his voice low and heavy.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "393044", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel