Chapter 3 Business Meeting

"Miss Jenkins' condition is stable, but there's no clear timeline for when she might regain her consciousness. It could be a month, two months, or even years... Or perhaps..."

The doctor's voice faltered, dwindling into silence under the intense, stormy gaze of Owen.

"Ensure Aria receives everything she needs. If there's any development, I want to know immediately," Owen commanded firmly.

"Understood," the doctor responded, a note of deference in her voice.

Without a direct nod from Owen, Arabella dared not leave on her own. Besides, she still relied on his influence to secure Kristian's medical parole.

As Owen descended the stairs, his eyes landed on Arabella on the chair, who had succumbed to exhaustion, her head bowed in sleep.

The pallor of her skin was more pronounced in the dim light, highlighting her delicate features against the dark room. Her small frame curled in the chair, looking vulnerable and almost pitiful.

Pitiful? Owen scoffed silently. How could Arabella, with her layers of secrets and cunning, deserve his sympathy?

Sensing his looming presence, Arabella's eyes fluttered open, and she quickly straightened, her movements swift and precise like a student snapping to attention after being caught dozing by a strict teacher.

A frown crept across Owen's face. Was he truly that terrifying? She had shown no hesitation last night when she boldly sneaked into his bed.

"I have a meeting with a business partner. You're coming with me," Owen declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Shock flickered across Arabella's face. From the moment she married Owen, Julissa had orchestrated a role for her as Owen's personal secretary within the company-a position that was meant to tether her closely to his daily affairs.

Yet, this closeness had only soured Owen's disposition toward her further. The title of "personal secretary" was a masked pretense, forcing Arabella to obey his every whim.

Owen, who habitually left Arabella behind when attending business meetings, had surprisingly invited her to accompany him today, catching her off guard.

Once settled in the car, Owen wasted no time plunging into a sea of paperwork and phone calls.

As the CEO leading a corporation crucial to Evlinas' economy, his days were constantly swamped.

After some time, his eyes flicked toward Arabella.

Her choice of a plain short-sleeve shirt paired with casual pants seemed to irk him, his eyebrow arching in quiet reproach. "Are you out of money? Is that why you're dressed like this?" he remarked, a hint of disdain threading his tone.

Arabella, poised to respond in sign language, halted as Owen abruptly averted his gaze, his expression clouded with distaste.

She cast her eyes down, enveloped in silence. Their secret marriage was known to a select few, who likely imagined her draped in luxury, swathed in designer labels, and living a life of boundless opulence.

The harsh reality was starkly different. Arabella eked out a living on her meager salary from the company, a sharp contrast to the glamorous life presumed by outsiders.

Month after month, Arabella meticulously budgeted her own expenses, yet she still shouldered the financial burdens of supporting her mother, Khloe, and her high school-bound younger brother, Caylee. The costs of study materials and tutoring sessions were relentless. There was simply no room in her budget for luxuries like fancy clothes.

Owen, Arabella's distant husband, remained mostly absent and ignorant of her struggles. Arabella kept her hardships to herself, for discussing them seemed pointless-Owen's indifference to her life extended to even the most minute details, such as her attire. After all, why would she dress to impress someone who barely acknowledged her existence?

Upon their arrival at the hotel for a crucial meeting, Danna Watson, Owen's chief secretary, was already there waiting, a bundle of clothes in her arms.

While Arabella managed everything behind the scenes for Owen, Danna handled the corporate side of things.

Dressed in an impeccably fitted black suit, her ponytail sleek and her bangs perfectly arranged, Danna embodied power and professionalism.

With a firm, unreadable gaze, Danna placed the clothes in Arabella's hands and stated firmly, "Ms. Butcher, Mr. Murray has placed his trust in you. Don't disappoint him."

Catching a glimpse of Owen's impatient scowl, Arabella swiftly accepted the clothes and retreated to the bathroom to change.

When Arabella reappeared, transformed into the canary-yellow dress that Danna had selected, it was to Owen's indifferent glance. However, the vibrant color of the dress brought out the radiant glow of Arabella's complexion, casting her in a light he couldn't entirely ignore.

Arabella still bore the faint, lingering traces of Owen's passionate kiss from the night before, a vivid blush painting her cheeks a bright crimson.

Lacking any makeup of her own, Arabella borrowed a swipe of concealer from Danna, attempting to mask the marks. Yet, despite her efforts, they remained subtly perceptible beneath the light layer of makeup.

Owen's gaze briefly flitted to her marks, his dark eyes clouding with an unreadable emotion before he abruptly turned away. "Let's go," he muttered, his voice low.

As they stepped into the dimly lit private room, the murmur of conversation greeted them.

Several people were already there, lounging comfortably. Arabella, feeling out of place, stood silently by Owen's side, scanning the unfamiliar faces.

"Mr. Murray, great to see you! We've been anticipating your arrival all evening." Blaine White, CEO of the White Group, rose to greet Owen, his enthusiasm palpable. He extended a hand to Owen, who, still clad in his customary gloves, responded with a curt nod. Blaine's smile faltered slightly, feeling a disregard for his hospitality.

Owen's infamous need for perfection and cleanliness was something Blaine couldn't ignore.

Then, Blaine's attention shifted to Arabella. His eyes sparkled with intrigue. "Well, well, Mr. Murray, when did you get such a lovely assistant?" he exclaimed.

Blaine's gaze lingered on Arabella, clearly taken by her presence. Unlike the bold, assertive types he was accustomed to, Arabella's gentle, demure demeanor struck a different chord, captivating him instantly.

Arabella squirmed under the unwelcome weight of Blaine's lecherous gaze. Instinctively, she edged closer to Owen for comfort. Owen, noticing her discomfort, chuckled, his demeanor relaxed and unbothered. He introduced her casually. "This is my secretary, Ms. Arabella Butcher."

Turning to Arabella with a reassuring smile, Owen said, "Ms. Butcher, meet Mr. Blaine White."

Arabella offered a tentative nod in response, her greeting minimal.

Blaine's demeanor darkened noticeably at Arabella's silence. "Ms. Butcher, are you looking down on me? Won't you even speak to me?" he asked, his tone laced with a challenge.

Arabella's lips pressed together, a silent struggle playing across her features. She wanted to communicate with gestures but hesitated, uncertain if Blaine was familiar with sign language.

Before she could decide, Owen intervened smoothly. "I apologize, Blaine. Ms. Butcher is mute and unable to speak."

A wave of gratitude washed over Arabella as Owen spoke on her behalf. Her inability to speak made social interactions daunting, and her reluctance was often mistaken for aloofness. Owen's understanding and quick explanation softened the edges of the awkward situation.

Aware of the importance of this meeting-for Owen had insisted on meeting Blaine in person-Arabella felt the pressure to present herself well. Despite her limitations, she didn't want to come off as difficult or standoffish. After all, she was here with Owen, and her actions, however small, reflected on him.

Determined not to be a burden, Arabella resolved to make her presence as positive as possible, silently supporting Owen without causing any disruptions.

Unable to speak, Arabella had no choice but to let her smile do the talking.

Her eyes twinkled, and her cheeks were adorned with charming dimples that drew everyone in. Her white, even teeth lent her smile a sincere, pure quality that seemed to melt the harshness out of those around her.

Blaine, unfazed by her inability to speak, seemed to find her all the more intriguing. His enthusiasm was palpable as he exclaimed, "A mute, huh? I find that mutes have a special kind of grace-they're just the best!"

Owen, however, couldn't help but feel a prick of irritation at Arabella's smile, an unexpected surge of anger bubbling within him.

Moments later, Arabella was arranged to sit beside Blaine, her eyes flicking up as Owen settled in across from them.

Arabella's unease grew with Owen so far away, yet what troubled her more was Blaine's unnerving proximity.

Initially, Blaine had maintained a gentlemanly facade, but as he realized Owen's attention was elsewhere, his demeanor shifted subtly.

Arabella's attention was fixed on Owen, trying to ignore Blaine, but she recoiled in shock when Blaine's hand stealthily brushed against her leg, prompting her to jump up from her seat!