Beg For My Love, Cold-Hearted CEO

When the clock struck eight, shadows thickened across the streets, and the cold crept in with relentless bite.

Noreen Evans sat alone at the dining table, idly scrolling through her phone. The untouched dishes in front of her had gone stone cold, their glossy surfaces dulled and uninviting.

Greta Johnson, the housekeeper, approached with quiet caution. "Mrs. Evans," she called out. "Today's your wedding anniversary. I'm sure Mr. Evans will be home tonight. He's probably just caught up with something. Let me warm the food for you."

Noreen gave a faint shake of her head. "Don't bother. He's already had dinner somewhere else."

The bluntness of her reply made Greta falter for a moment before understanding flickered in her eyes.

In three years of marriage, Noreen and Caiden Evans had lived more like polite strangers than husband and wife. The sweetness of their first year had long faded, replaced by rare visits and colder silences.

Leaving the dining table behind, Noreen went upstairs and lay on the bed. Her phone buzzed relentlessly, and a flood of new messages filled a group chat.

Curious, she lightly tapped one open.

The photo that opened showed Caiden sprawled carelessly across a wide leather sofa. His collar hung open, exposing the clean line of his collarbones, and his sleeves were rolled carelessly to his elbows. The casual ease in his posture carried an almost dangerous kind of allure.

Even the tilt of his head and the heavy-lidded look spoke of lazy indulgence.

In the corner of the shot, a delicate hand extended toward him, a wineglass poised midair. The gesture was intimate, as if toasting him in private.

Noreen's breath caught when her gaze slid down to the wrist. The slender hand was unmistakably feminine, and the emerald bracelet it wore shimmered under the light-a piece she knew too well.

That heirloom had once been promised to her, an Evans family treasure. Now, it encircled another woman's wrist.

Her fingers tightened around the phone as a fresh message arrived. This time, it was a video.

She tapped it without hesitation.

A soft voice spilled out through the speaker-gentle, sweet, and tinged with a teasing lilt. "You came straight from the airport just to celebrate my birthday. Aren't you worried Noreen will be upset when she finds out? Why not invite her too?"

With a look of mild disdain, Caiden let a crooked smirk slip. "Aren't you worried she'll ruin the mood?"

Laughter rippled through the group. Someone snorted derisively, "She's never quite belonged with us anyway. It's probably best she doesn't come."

Another chimed in with a teasing lilt, "Caiden, when was the last time you even saw Noreen? You'd probably walk right past her without recognizing her on the street."

Caiden swirled the deep red wine in his glass, his tone light and detached. "See her? We're not exactly close enough to keep up."

A voice cut through the chatter. "Come on now, aren't you two a married couple?"

A low, derisive chuckle rumbled from Caiden, as if he couldn't believe the absurdity of what he'd just heard. "That marriage is like a bottle of spoiled wine-better tossed out."

Jessica Dale's soft voice followed, laced with a hint of apology. "Alright... then we won't invite her this time. I'll make it up to her next time."

Noreen lowered her phone, bitterness tightening somewhere deep inside her.

What a petty little stunt! They were all sitting together in a private room, yet they'd chosen to chat in the group thread-just to make sure she saw it.

Most of the people in that group were part of Caiden's social circle. Jessica was one of the few women there.

The only reason Noreen had even been added was that Jessica had pulled her in.

She hardly ever spoke in the chat, but every new update about Caiden landed in her feed anyway. Wherever he went, Jessica was never far behind.

Hours later, with the house steeped in silence, Noreen lay sprawled on her bed, idly twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

The cold metal leeched into her skin, sinking deeper, until the chill reached the softest part of her heart.

A weight settled in her chest, not quite pain, but heavy enough to make every breath drag.

An unexpected urge to cry rose in her throat, and her lashes trembled softly in the darkness.

Two years of icy indifference had numbed her, yet a quiet pang of sorrow unfurled from somewhere hidden, blooming wide until it filled every corner of her heart.

Rolling onto her side, she buried her face deep in the pillow.

The ring brushed against her cheek, its frigid touch echoing the distant coolness of Caiden's body-calm, detached, like winter moonlight pouring through a window.

The room held its breath with her, and even the seconds seemed to crawl.

With her eyes shut, she listened to the steady thud of her own heartbeat, each beat stark against the silence.

She and Caiden had been entwined in each other's lives since childhood, their paths crossing long before they understood the weight of the bond.

Back when she was fourteen, everything she'd known collapsed in an instant. Her parents had died in a brutal car accident, leaving behind a child with a fortune attached to her name. The adults who were supposed to protect her turned into vultures overnight.

At the funeral, her relatives didn't mourn-they fought. Voices rose to shrieks, then fists flew, and the brawl ended with flashing police lights and blood smeared on black mourning clothes.

She had stood off to the side, a small figure swallowed by the chaos, eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. The helplessness had clung to her like a second skin.

Cheryl Evans, Caiden's grandmother, had stepped in then. Pity softening her stern features, she opened her arms to the frightened girl.

No documents were signed, no formal adoption arranged-Noreen was simply folded into the Evans family like a fragile guest who never quite belonged.

Those early years had left their mark. She grew into a quiet, cautious child, forever aware she lived on borrowed kindness.

At school, whispers followed her down the halls. Cruel, childish voices loved to remind her what she already knew too well-she was the orphan girl.

Caiden had been the one to step in back then, chasing off the bullies without hesitation and standing firmly at her side.

Under his quiet protection, the fractures in her fragile heart began to knit together, slowly but surely.

Somewhere along the way, her feelings for him deepened until they grew beyond her ability to control.

Aware of the distance between their worlds, she tucked those feelings away, hiding them where no one would see.

Three years earlier, Cheryl had fallen gravely ill. She'd confessed that her greatest worry was Noreen's future, and despite the family's objections, she arranged for Noreen to marry Caiden.

Back then, Noreen had been overwhelmed with joy.

Her youth had always revolved around Caiden-he had been gentle, brilliant, radiant, and endlessly kind to her. How could she not be moved? How could she not love him?

After they got married, his tenderness toward her had only grown deeper.

He whisked her away to a famous fjord, where they stood together at dawn, wrapped in silence as the morning mist drifted over the water like a soft veil. They journeyed to highlands in another country to watch the heather bloom, wandering for hours through the vast, windswept moorlands painted in violet.

When rain began to fall at dusk, he lifted his windbreaker over her head, letting the drizzle soak his shoulders instead.

Back at the inn, the hearth crackled to life. He knelt before the fire, carefully wiping the mud from her shoes while the golden light flickered across his profile, glowing and dimming with the flames.

That first year had felt almost dreamlike-so tender, so impossibly warm-that whenever Noreen thought of it now, the memory cut deep, making the present all the more unbearable.

Before she ever became Mrs. Evans, she'd overheard whispers about the Dale family arranging a marriage alliance with the Evans family. Jessica had practically lived at the Evans family's estate back then, spending entire days in Caiden's room without anyone batting an eye.

Then, as if fate had shifted course, Jessica went abroad, and the arranged marriage vanished from conversation as though it had never existed.

The memory tugged a wry, bitter smile from Noreen's lips.

Everything began to unravel after Cheryl's death. Caiden changed overnight, his warmth vanishing without a trace, and the two of them drifted apart until they felt like strangers living under the same roof.

Perhaps it had started the moment Jessica came back.

The memory of that night was still sharp-Caiden had stumbled home long past midnight, reeking of alcohol.

From then on, his appearances at their shared home grew rarer.

At work, their paths crossed only in passing, their exchanges reduced to the briefest of nods. Even a single word between them felt like an extravagance, as if the bond that once held them together had quietly disintegrated.

A wave of exhaustion washed over Noreen.

What meaning remained in a marriage like this? Staying together only hurt all three of them.

She pushed herself upright, fingers tightening around her phone as she made a call to Caiden.

The line rang for an agonizing stretch before someone finally picked up. But the voice that drifted through wasn't Caiden's. It was Jessica's.

She still spoke in a soft, gentle way, though an icy undertone threaded through her words.

"Is this Noreen?" she inquired in a low, measured tone.

A sharp tremor ran through Noreen's fingers as she clenched the phone more tightly. It took her a breath before she could force out a steady, "Yeah."

"Caiden's taking a shower right now. I'll tell him to return your call when he's out."

Somehow, Noreen kept her voice from splintering. When she finally spoke, it came out level, almost detached. "Don't bother."

The line went dead with a soft click.

She'd originally picked up the phone to talk about divorce, but deep down, she knew he wouldn't call her back. Not anymore.

After a beat of silence, Noreen exhaled slowly and dialed her lawyer's number, instructing him to draft the divorce papers.

Two years of this cold ache had hollowed her out.

Jessica's return only made the truth sharper. It was time to end this marriage and finally set herself free.

...

Noreen had taken her insomnia medication and drifted into a heavy, dream-drenched slumber.

Halfway between consciousness and sleep, she vaguely sensed the mattress dip, as though someone had slipped beneath the covers.

A moment later, a cool yet achingly familiar embrace wrapped around her.

Soft lips brushed across her forehead, then trailed to her cheeks and finally claimed her mouth in a slow, tender kiss.

The sensation carried a warmth she hadn't felt in so long-so distinctly like the Caiden she used to know.

Her mind clawed toward wakefulness. She was desperate to see if this was real or just another cruel dream, but her body refused to obey. Darkness pulled her under again, leaving her trapped in that hazy cocoon.

By the time she stirred the next morning, her hand instinctively reached for the space beside her.

The sheet was icy.

A wry smile curved her lips, thin and bitter, as silence filled the room.

Clearly, whatever she'd felt last night had been nothing more than a dream.

Sunday meant no office, so she stayed cocooned in the blankets for a while, letting the quiet stretch.

When she finally made her way downstairs, the clock was edging toward nine.

Near the window, Caiden sat at the dining table, bathed in a soft wash of sunlight. The morning light carved out the clean lines of his figure, outlining him in quiet serenity. His collar was slightly open, exposing the elegant slope of his neck and a pale glimpse of his collarbones.

His head was slightly bowed, lashes casting faint shadows beneath his eyes. One hand rested lazily on the edge of the snow-white tablecloth, fingers long and strong, while the other held a delicate porcelain cup. Thin curls of steam rose from it, swirling into the sunlit air.

Noreen hadn't expected him to show up out of nowhere.

The suddenness of it left her tongue-tied, unsure how to bridge the distance that had grown between them.

As she struggled to piece together something to say, Greta's cheerful voice cut through the quiet. "Good morning, Mrs. Evans! Please come down and have breakfast."

At the sound, Caiden lifted his head toward Noreen.

Their gazes collided for a brief, brittle moment-his eyes cool and unreadable-before he looked away as if nothing about her presence mattered.

Sunlight poured through the window, gilding the edge of his profile in soft gold. The morning light caught on his lowered lashes, making him seem distant, almost ethereal, as though he belonged to another world entirely.

He sat with effortless elegance, a figure carved into stillness, wrapped in a serenity she could no longer reach.

Noreen descended the stairs at an unhurried pace.

Sliding into her seat, she absently stirred the porridge, saying nothing to Caiden.

The rising steam curled into the pale light, softening the edges of everything before her eyes.

The dining room sat in near silence, broken only by the faint clink of silverware and the steady tick of the wall clock.

"Something bothering you?" Caiden's voice cut through the quiet, cool and detached.

Noreen's hand stilled around the spoon.

When she lifted her gaze, she caught sight of his long fingers flipping through a glossy financial magazine. The cover featured a photo of him at the Pearl Tower the night before, raising a glass at Jessica's birthday celebration.

But yesterday had also marked their third wedding anniversary.

"I'm fine," Noreen answered, her tone so even it sounded more like a recording than a person.

Caiden finally lifted his eyes from the magazine. His cool gaze lingered on her bare face before sliding down to the wedding ring on her finger.

For the briefest second, she thought she caught a flicker of warmth softening his sharp features-but it vanished before she could be sure.

"We're visiting my parents this afternoon," Caiden noted flatly.

An instinctive urge to refuse knotted in her chest.

She recoiled at the thought of returning home, where Caiden's mother, Ivy Evans, filled the place with a quiet, suffocating contempt.

Before she could speak, he continued in a clipped voice, "I've already told them you'll be there. Don't ruin it."

The words she'd been about to say withered on her tongue.

Lowering her gaze, she stirred the porridge again, though the thought of eating made her stomach turn.

His gaze flicked over her again, a frown creasing his brow. "What's wrong with the porridge? Don't like it?"

"It's alright," she responded lightly. "Honestly, it's the best porridge I've ever had-perfect, really."

His lips parted as if a thought hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back.

Without a word, his long, elegant fingers slid a dark green gift bag across the table. Gold lettering shimmered on the velvet surface, catching the slant of morning light.

Noreen's eyes lingered on it, recognition tightening in her chest.

That logo belonged to the jeweler the women in the Evans family adored-new collections always sent straight to their estate for private selection.

She made no move to accept it. Instead, she brushed the bag open with a light touch, revealing a dark blue velvet box nestled inside.

"Put it on this afternoon when we head back. Otherwise, people might get the wrong idea and think I don't take care of you," Caiden muttered, his tone deliberately casual, as if none of it mattered.

Noreen's fingers tightened faintly against her palm.

"Alright," she answered in a whisper so soft it nearly disappeared in the quiet room.

He finally lifted his head, his cool gaze skimming over her bare collarbone before sliding away without a flicker of warmth.

"It's nothing special," he added stiffly, almost defensive. "Just something I picked up."

A brief silence stretched between them. Then, as if feeling it wasn't enough, he went on, "I was going to toss it anyway, so I figured I might as well hand it to you."

"Mm." Noreen's quiet response carried no weight, no warmth. She nudged the bag aside with the same detachment.

Sunlight spilled through the wide picture windows, carving a pale golden line that seemed to divide the room-and them.

Caiden studied the way her lowered lashes left a faint shadow against her cheeks. For a second, his hand lifted as if to touch her face, but the motion faltered halfway. His fingers curled back, and he reached for the coffee cup instead.

"Maybe try smiling more instead of wearing that gloomy look all day. It kind of kills the mood," he murmured at last.

A light breeze slipped through the window, stirring a loose strand of hair beside Noreen's ear as he rose to leave.

Only when his footsteps disappeared at the top of the stairs did Noreen ease open the jewelry box.

Inside lay an emerald necklace, its deep green gleam catching the morning light.

The design mirrored the piece Cheryl had worn most often, though she couldn't say for sure.

The gifts Caiden handed her were always thoughtless, and this one felt no different-just some trinket he'd been ready to toss, like a leftover freebie that didn't matter to him at all.

"Oh? Isn't that necklace one of Mrs. Cheryl Evans's old pieces?" Greta's curious voice drifted from behind, soft but clear.

She had worked for the Evans family for years, always at Cheryl's side. After Noreen married into the family, Cheryl had assigned Greta to take care of her.

Noreen blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the remark. "Really?"

Leaning closer, Greta examined the emerald carefully, then nodded with quiet conviction. "I'm certain. Mrs. Cheryl Evans had two identical necklaces, both passed down to Mr. Evans."

A hint of warmth flickered over Greta's features as she began to smile. "Since he's giving you this, it means he still holds you in his heart."

With a fleeting glance toward the staircase, Noreen held her tongue and allowed Greta to carefully fasten the necklace for her.