Diamonds in the Rough

Jane reclined on the plush bed, her gaze lost in the nothingness before her. It was the eve of her wedding, a night that traditionally held promises of bliss and intimate connection. However, she found herself dreading the events that typically unfolded on such nights. She knew all too well that her newlywed husband would never touch her, not in the way a husband should. He didn't regard her as a desirable woman, let alone consider the notion of embracing, smooching, or making love to her.

A shiver ran down her spine as she entertained the thought that he might even resort to forcing himself upon her, a cruel punishment for consenting to this loveless union. Uncertainty clouded her mind as she questioned her very presence on the bed. The mere assumption of such a position might send the wrong signals to him, misleading him into believing she desired him. Who knew how he would react or what venomous words he would spew forth?

Just as Jane contemplated retreating to the safety of the nearby couch, the door creaked open, sealing her fate within the confines of the bedroom. She had no choice but to remain where she sat, frozen in trepidation. And there he stood, entering the room with an air of towering, irresistible allure. Her husband, a devastatingly handsome man in his thirties, exuded an undeniable charm. Tall, with a bronzed complexion and a smoldering presence, he was a sight to behold. If only he had chosen her out of love or genuine desire, she might have considered herself the most fortunate of women.

Discarding his jacket and unbuttoning the top buttons of his crisp white shirt, he revealed a tantalizing glimpse of his chiseled, muscular chest. Jane lifted her gaze to meet his, only to find him leering at her with a cold, arrogant smirk adorning his face.

"Done checking me out, are you?" he sneered in a frigid, sarcastic tone, receiving no response from her. Pressing on, he continued his verbal assault. "I suppose you are, my dear minx. But rest assured, you hold no power to seduce me. Your eyes, your body-they do nothing to tempt me. You simply aren't my type, nor do you hold any allure whatsoever."

His words stung deeply, piercing her heart with their venomous barbs. Yet, she resolved not to reveal the extent of her pain to him. She would maintain her composure, for he was merely attempting to provoke her, wasn't he?

"The worst thing to ever happen to me is you," he calmly but venomously declared. "I agreed to this wretched marriage solely due to my sick, dying father's wishes, as well as the inheritance of the company that awaits me upon marrying you. Don't, even for a moment, believe that this marriage stands a chance, because it will never work!" His words dripped with loathing. "Rest assured, once these agonizing three years come to an end, I shall divorce you without hesitation."

Jane let out a weary sigh. "I understand," she responded dryly, her voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.

"And don't expect me to fulfill any husbandly duties towards you," he declared coldly. "We are bound by a mere paper contract, and I shall never regard you as my wife!" Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to cascade down her cheeks. "To me, you are nothing more than a housemate."

Suppressing her tears, she blinked them away, refusing to show her vulnerability to this arrogant brute. "I understand," she uttered slowly, her tone firm and resolute.

"Good," he replied with a nod. "I shall be taking up residence in a guest room. There's no need for us to share the same chamber."

She lifted her gaze to meet his, surprise etched on her face. "But this is your room. You should sleep here. I can occupy one of the guest rooms."

"The decision has been made," he asserted. "I won't entertain any arguments from you."

With those final words, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him. Jane sat there, fixated on the closed entrance, until she could no longer contain her emotions. Her tears broke free, streaming down her cheeks in a cascade of despair.

Her life had been irrevocably shattered, all because of a foolish promise. In her heart, she held no blame for her deceased father, for he had never foreseen the turn of events. Had he known, he would never have imposed such a fate upon her. Or so she desperately hoped.

Standing up, she removed her wedding dress-a random gown she had stumbled upon, devoid of the meticulous searching and fittings that accompany joyous brides-to-be. She had never desired this wedding, just as he hadn't. Yet, it was her father's dying wish and her mother's coercion that propelled them forward. Both their mothers had orchestrated the entire affair, each wanting no part in it.

Though Jane had contributed sporadically to the planning, Alex never showed the slightest interest in its progress, at least not in her presence. He was entirely detached. His father, Martin, gravely ill at the time, had managed to attend the ceremony. It was his deteriorating health that had primarily swayed John to acquiesce to this union. His father held a deep fondness for Jane, and she reciprocated that sentiment. He had become a second father to her, a benevolent figure who had supported and provided for her family ever since her father's passing.

On the other hand, alex's mother was the embodiment of disdain for this union. Like her son, she despised the arrangement. She harbored a sharp animosity toward Jane and her mother, dismissing the marriage as nothing more than a business contract. Jane often wondered how her own passionate and headstrong mother managed to collaborate so effectively with Bella, Alex's mother. Perhaps they reached a temporary truce in their shared goal of planning the perfect wedding, as they perceived it, for their beloved children.

The wedding itself had been an extravagant affair, exorbitantly costly, with an extensive guest list despite Jane's and Alex's desire for a small, intimate celebration. On that day, unlike most brides-to-be, she did not eagerly anticipate becoming John's wife. Instead, tears had accompanied her into a fitful slumber the night before. Contrary to his assumptions, she had not yearned for this union.

Slowly, she had traversed the aisle, each step laden with apprehension. When Alex's eyes met hers, she caught a fleeting glimpse of admiration and a mysterious emotion she couldn't decipher. However, he swiftly resumed his customary facade of impenetrable stoicism. The vows were spoken, rings exchanged, and the dreaded moment arrived-the moment when the couple was pronounced husband and wife, the moment for the groom to seal the union with a kiss. For a few suspended seconds, their gazes locked, until unexpectedly, he stepped forward, encircled her waist with his hands, and pressed his lips to hers. A faint tremor coursed through her body, an unexpected surge of excitement that stirred her very core. She instinctively rested her hands on his arms, momentarily immersed in the illicit thrill.

To her surprise, John's kiss lingered longer than she had anticipated. When he eventually withdrew, his eyes had darkened, yet the hard mask of indifference remained firmly in place. It was then that she inadvertently glanced at her former fiancé, James. His countenance depicted a shattered heart, and her own heart ached in response. However, before she could advert her gaze, her new husband intercepted her line of sight and followed it, discovering the object of her attention. His features hardened further, but he remained silent as the ceremony drew to a close and the reception commenced.

Thoughts of James lingered in Jane's mind. He had proposed to her on the very day her mother had revealed the impending betrothal to Alex. Breaking up with James had been an agonizing ordeal. He had wept and implored her to reconsider, yet she was as powerless as he was. Their parting had been accompanied by tears, hugs, and lingering kisses. James had continued to call her, even to this day.

For a fleeting moment, Jane contemplated engaging in an affair with James, knowing well that her husband wouldn't object and that he himself would likely stray, given his notorious reputation with women. If he were to discover her indiscretion, he would hardly mind.

However, she promptly shook her head, dismissing such notions. Despite being married in name only, she would never stoop to infidelity. She had vowed her loyalty and faithfulness to Alex at the altar, for better or worse, until the fateful day of divorce. Even though his contempt for her was palpable, she would strive to fulfill her role as his lawfully wedded wife. It would be an arduous burden to bear, but she had willingly accepted it.

For the next three years, she would endure as Mrs. Alex Jordan, whether she likes it or not. The choice had been made, and she had no option but to play her part, even in a loveless charade.

Jane woke up the next morning, her mind still restless from the sleepless night before. As she slowly opened her eyes, she found herself in an unfamiliar room, momentarily disoriented. The realization gradually dawned on her that she was now in her new husband's bedroom, in his house. The events of the previous day flooded her mind, overwhelming her with a mix of emotions. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to process the fact that she was no longer Miss Jane Baldwin but Mrs. Jane Jordan, a real Jordan, against her will.

Not only had they refused to go somewhere special for their honeymoon, believing it unnecessary due to their inability to even share the same room, but now Jane was faced with the reality of her new marital life. With a sigh, she sat up and stretched her limbs, her gaze instinctively drawn to the door as a soft knock echoed through the room. Curiosity piqued, she wondered who could be knocking so politely. The Alex she knew wouldn't bother with such formalities; he would likely barge in, perhaps even naked, pretending she wasn't there.

"Come in," Jane permitted, and the door opened softly to reveal a short, plump woman wearing a cook's apron. Jane immediately assumed that this woman, in her mid- or late-forties, was the cook of the house.

"Good morning, madam," the woman said, still standing by the door.

"Good morning, Mrs. or Miss..." Jane began, trying to ascertain the woman's marital status.

"Mrs. Anna Oceans, madam," the woman replied with a warm smile. "But please, call me Anna."

"Okay, Anna. How may I help you?" Jane asked, adopting a friendly tone.

"Breakfast is ready, madam," Anna replied warmly. "Shall I bring it up here, or will you come down?"

"Oh, I'll be downstairs shortly," Jane replied. Despite her husband's lack of enthusiasm for their marriage, she was determined to make it work. After washing her face in the bathroom, she made her way downstairs.

As she stepped into the dining room, Jane couldn't help but notice the absence of her new husband. The table stood bare of any human presence, but the tantalizing aroma of the sumptuous breakfast filled the room, tempting her to indulge even without his company. However, she knew she couldn't start without him if he was around.

"Have you seen my husband today?" Jane asked, with a slight hint of disturbance in her voice.

"Oh, madam..." Anna hesitated, a reluctance evident in her voice. "Please, don't make me say it."

Jane interrupted, insisting, "Please, call me Jane."

Anna sighed, her eyes filled with concern. "He left for work very early this morning."

Jane was taken aback. Work? On a Sunday? During their supposed honeymoon? Her disappointment grew, fueling her doubts about her husband's commitment to the marriage. Was he being intentionally heartless towards her? It seemed he didn't even want to give their relationship a chance.

As questions swirled in Jane's mind, she couldn't help but wonder if she had been overly hopeful. Should she simply let him be and accept their loveless marriage? After all, he had made his terms clear the previous night.

This wasn't the marriage she had always envisioned. What woman would willingly choose such a life? With a heavy sigh, Jane resigned herself to her fate and sat down to devour her breakfast.

Later that evening, feeling restless and confined within the house, Jane decided to visit the mall under the pretense of buying toiletries and cosmetics. It was just an excuse to escape her solitude after spending the entire day indoors.

Contemplating whether she should ask for the keys to one of her husband's smaller cars, she hesitated, unsure if he would approve of her driving his vehicle.

Arriving at the shopping mall, she began perusing through various items, searching for her favorite women's products. Lost in her thoughts, she was about to turn a corner when she accidentally collided with someone.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't..." Jane's voice trailed off as she recognized the person she had bumped into.

"James," she whispered, a mix of surprise and uncertainty filling her voice.

He reciprocated her forced smile, his eyes reflecting a pain she knew all too well. "Jane, how are you?"

She forced herself to maintain composure, not wanting to delve into the details of their past. "Uhh, how are you?"

"Just as you left me," he replied, his voice tinged with sadness.

Jane sighed, unwilling to reopen old wounds. "Umm, did you come here to shop?"

No, he came to workout. Of course he came to shop you idiot! What kind of lame question was that?

"Yeah," he replied, thankfully not echoing her thoughts. "I needed to restock some groceries and toiletries. How about you? I didn't expect to see you here on your honeymoon, especially without your husband."

"Well, I actually came for my toiletries as well," Jane answered, omitting the fact that she was driven by boredom and loneliness.

Thankfully, James didn't pursue the subject further. "Okay, so how have you been? I haven't had a chance to talk to you one-on-one for the past two weeks."

"I'm fine; I'm busy with wedding preparations and all. But it's over now," Jane replied, her tone devoid of enthusiasm.

"Jane," he whispered, his voice filled with longing. "I still can't believe any of this. I can't accept the fact that you're no longer mine."

She averted her gaze, her heart heavy with regret. "We've discussed this before, James. It's in the past."

"I know, but..." He took a deep breath, his words laden with unspoken desires. "Never mind."

"I'm truly sorry, John. I never wanted any of this to happen. I tried to stop it, but..."

"It's okay. You don't need to explain," he interrupted, his voice gentle yet tinged with resignation. "It wasn't your fault. I just can't accept the fact that you're no longer mine."

"I'm really..." Jane began, but he cut her off, his desperation evident.

"But tell me, Jane, tell me you still love me," he pleaded. "I need to hear it."

She shook her head, torn between her lingering feelings and her commitment to her new marriage. "James..."

"Just say it, Jane," he implored, his voice cracking with emotion.

A small, bittersweet smile graced her lips. "I still love you."

His expression transformed, a mix of sadness and triumph painting his features. Before she could react, his lips captured hers in a desperate kiss, momentarily freezing her in a swirl of emotions. Despite the longing she felt, she pushed him away, acutely aware of their surroundings. She was now married, and he had just kissed her in public.

"James! What has gotten into you? Can't you see we're in public?" She whispered coldly, her voice laced with both disappointment and reprimand.

He looked guilty; his eyes were filled with remorse. "I'm so sorry, Jane. I lost control. I shouldn't have done that. Please forgive me."

Jane stared at him, conflicted. His vulnerability tugged at her heart, but she knew she had to set boundaries. With a deep breath, she nodded. "It's okay."

His face suddenly brightened, and there was a flicker of hope in his eyes. "Thank you. So, why don't we shop together since we're here for the same things?" He suggested it cheerfully.

Jane hesitated, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. She knew it was unwise to spend more time with him, but the allure of familiarity and comfort was difficult to resist.

*********

"So she is with that ex-fiancé of hers?" Alex's voice crackled through the phone, filled with a mix of concern and frustration.

"Yes, sir," replied Max, his trusted informant. "They are currently together at the bustling shopping mall. I will send you the incriminating photos in a matter of minutes."

"Thank you, Max. That will be all for now," Alex acknowledged, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he hung up the phone. He reclined in his plush swivel chair, contemplating the situation that had unfolded before him.

That conniving son of a bitch! The anger simmered within him, threatening to boil over. How dare he betray me like this...

Alex groaned, grappling with his own emotions. He questioned himself, wondering if he had the right to feel outraged at the sight of his wife in the arms of another man. After all, he had delivered a heartfelt monologue to her just the night before. He had spent their wedding night in a cold, lonely guest room, only to depart early in the morning for work instead of embarking on the blissful honeymoon they had planned.

The urge to call her gnawed at him, but he resisted. What would he even say? That he was checking up on her? Or perhaps he should demand that she immediately sever ties with that despicable bastard and return home?

Just as his mind swirled with conflicting thoughts, his phone beeped, signaling the arrival of a new message. He swiftly unlocked the device, revealing an email from Max. The attached photos depicted Jane and John in various compromising positions. The emotions etched on their faces and the way they gazed at each other conveyed an undeniable connection that had endured.

But damn it all, what did he expect? Alex pondered bitterly. Their marriage had barely begun, and he had never been the doting and affectionate fiancé Jane might have desired.

Yet, one particular image froze him in place, anger coursing through his veins. It was beyond belief, utterly shocking. He had assumed his new wife was a woman of integrity and restraint, only to witness her engaged in a passionate kiss with her former lover. In public! And she had done so as a married woman, a mere day after their wedding!

This act of humiliation struck Alex deeply. He entertained the notion of smashing his phone against the wall, but he reconsidered. She wasn't worth such a display of rage. In fact, he questioned why he was allowing this to affect him so profoundly. Their union was merely a contractual agreement, a marriage on paper, devoid of genuine affection. He needed to remind himself of that truth continually.

***********

"Welcome back, madam," Anna cheerfully exclaimed, opening the door for Annabelle.

"Hello, Anna," Jane replied, her voice filled with a hint of weariness. "Thank you for your assistance."

"Did you manage to get everything you needed, madam?" Anna inquired, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of Alex's return.

"Yes, I did," Jane affirmed, her gaze shifting restlessly, searching for her husband. "Is he back yet?"

"Oh, he came in just a few minutes ago. He's upstairs," Anna informed her, her tone carrying a trace of uncertainty.

"Alright," Jane responded, her mind slightly preoccupied.

Suddenly, the front door flung open with a flourish, and a cloud of perfume enveloped the living room. A tall, voluptuous woman sauntered in as if she owned the place. Her tight red sleeveless gown clung to her

like a second skin, accentuating her curves. Her face boasted a heavy layer of makeup, and the crimson lipstick she wore accentuated her flawless skin. Delicate tattoo designs adorned her upper arms, complementing the extravagant jewelry that adorned her. She sported an expensive black wig, meticulously styled to perfection.

Jane couldn't help but notice the stunned and confused expression on Michelle's face as she gazed at the audacious woman who had just arrived. This woman exuded an air of sophistication, sexiness, and perhaps even a hint of malice. She seemed to fit Alex's preferred type-someone far removed from Jane's own appearance and style. Jane couldn't fathom ever stepping out in public looking like that.

Michelle turned her attention to Anna, her voice low and seductive. "Anna," she purred, her voice dripping with a tantalizing allure.

Anna quickly snapped out of her initial shock, shaking her head to regain her composure. "Madam Michelle."

With an authoritative air, Michelle inquired, "Where's Alex?"

Anna's response faltered, her eyes darting toward Jane for guidance on how to handle the audacious woman's presence.

Curiosity piqued, Jane interjected politely, "May I ask who you are, Miss? Is there a problem?"

Michelle turned her attention toward Jane, a condescending smirk playing on her lips. "And who might you be?" she retorted.

"I am his wife," Jane asserted firmly, her voice laced with a subtle determination.

The lady scoffed, her eyes cynically scanning Jane from head to toe, her nose slightly wrinkling as if Jane were clad in rags or emitted an unpleasant odor. The woman's disdain was palpable.

Indeed, Michelle was a true embodiment of her title-a bona fide bitch.

Undeterred, Jane raised her chin, refusing to be undermined. "So, you're the arranged wife, I presume?" Michelle sneered mockingly.

"Excuse me?" Jane responded, ignoring the stinging truths that Michelle had revealed.

A wicked grin tugged at Michelle's lips as she extended her black designer handbag to her other arm, her long black nails glistening under the chandelier lights. "Allow me to introduce myself," she drawled, savoring each syllable. "My name is Michelle Davidson. I am Alex's girlfriend, lover, sex partner, trophy girlfriend, event escort," she paused dramatically, her smirk widening.

"In short, I am everything to him that you can never be."

"Jane stood frozen on the spot as her husband's so-called girlfriend ranted on. Never in her life had she imagined that a woman would claim her husband in her matrimonial home, and there would be nothing she would be able to do about it.

"...So where is he?" Michelle asked drily.

Jane glared at her. If only she and her husband were in love or were even friends, or at least tolerated each other, she would have taught the woman in front of her a lesson she would never forget.

"He is not home," she said tightly.

"Oh really?" Michelle asked with a mocking smirk. "But why do I find that hard to believe? Well, the only way to find out is to call him, right?"

That was better. Jane thought. She wanted to hear Alex's response.

Michelle brought out her Phone and dialed a number.

"Hello darling...where are you?...Oh... Well, your contract wife said you were not at home... Yes, she did

...alright baby, I'm coming up now."

She hung up and looked pointedly at Jane.

"Don't tell me you're already falling in love with my boyfriend because I can't explain this protectiveness over him." She came closer. "But let me advise you. Try not to fall in love with him because I assure you that your feelings will never be reciprocated. Just a piece of advice."

"Michelle."

A deep voice called from upstairs.

"Oh darling," Michelle purred seductively. "What are you doing? I thought I told you to come upstairs?"

"Oh, I'm coming right up, honey."

Giving Jane a triumphant smile, Michelle catwalked up the stairs to meet Alex.

Jane turned to look up at Alex with hurt and anger in her eyes as a result of his disrespect towards her. He stared back at her cynically for a while, then turned and walked away with Michelle clinging to his arms.

Jane felt like screaming at the world. She felt mocked, shamed, and disgraced and couldn't do anything about it because of the falseness of her marriage. She had no power in the marriage, no power! She might be Mirabelle Jones's wife, but even the sexy Michelle had more power over Alex than she did, that's even if she had any.

"M-madam." Anna brought her out of her reverie. "I'm sorry about what just happened."

She took a deep breath and forced a tight smile. "It's not in any way your fault, so don't apologize."

Anna nodded. "I'll be in the kitchen, madam."

"It's okay."

"Will you be okay, madam?"

"Yes, don't worry about me."

"Okay, dinner will be ready soon."

Anna announced and left after her boss's wife nodded.

Jane's legs suddenly became too light to carry her, and she flopped on the nearby couch. She felt so ashamed and disgraced. Her husband and his whore could possibly be doing some dirty things upstairs in her matrimonial home, and there was nothing she could do about it.

After dinner, she slowly made her way upstairs to try and get some sleep. When she got to the corridor, she heard moans and gasps coming from the room her husband had slept in the previous night. She wasn't a child; she knew what was going on in that room at the moment, and she definitely didn't want to witness it.

Shaking her head, she went into her bedroom, locked the door, and leaned back on it, taking deep breaths. If she would continue with this marriage, she needed to be strong. She needed to create a thick skin and not allow certain things to get to her.

After all, she didn't love him as much as he didn't love her. So she wouldn't say or do anything rash that might make it seem as if she was jealous over Alex. Because she definitely wasn't! He could do whatever he wanted. She couldn't care less.

With her mind firmly made, she climbed onto the king-sized bed, pulled the duvet over her body, and settled to sleep. But sleep didn't come easily."

*************

"You're commencing your work today," Alex announced, his voice devoid of enthusiasm, as he sat across from Michelle at the breakfast table. He was already dressed for the day, having even prepared a set of clothes in the master bedroom where she had been sleeping, considering it housed his closet.

Michelle looked up from her tea cup, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "Today? You didn't inform me about it yesterday."

"Well, I'm informing you now," he replied curtly. "Hurry and get dressed if you don't want to be left behind."

"But..." she started to protest.

"Do you prefer continuing this solitary and monotonous honeymoon?" he interjected, a smirk playing on his lips.

Curse him! He knew exactly what he was doing.

"No, but you could have at least informed me earlier, giving me time to prepare," she explained.

"As the vice president of Maxwell Inc., you must be ready at a moment's notice," he retorted cynically. "Even when given short notice."

"But this is hardly fair!" Michelle voiced her frustration. "I had the right to know that my work would begin today."

"Today happens to be Monday..." he trailed off.

"Which is still supposed to be our honeymoon," she blurted out, then immediately regretted it as he smirked.

"If you desire to consummate our marriage, a simple request would suffice," he huskily replied, his eyes teasing her.

Michelle's eyes widened. "What? No! I... I don't want to be intimate with you."

How could he say such things when he wasn't even attracted to her? Besides, he was merely toying with her. He couldn't be serious. No, he couldn't.

He smirked again, his gaze raking over her. "You're not unappealing at all. In fact, you're worth ravishing."

A blush crept onto her cheeks, quickly replaced by a glare. How dare he speak to her that way after spending the night with that woman who called herself Jane?

"I won't tolerate you talking about me in such a manner, Alex."

"And why not? You're my wife," he responded nonchalantly.

"Only in name," she retorted dryly, as he had so astutely pointed out.

"Ah, yes," he grinned mockingly. "You are an intelligent woman. I'm beginning to agree with my father that you would make an excellent vice president, just like myself."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Oh, but you know it's true."

They continued their breakfast, yet her mind wandered once again to the woman who had come searching for her husband the previous evening.

"Why didn't she join us for breakfast?" she asked casually.

"Who?" he looked momentarily perplexed.

"I'm certain it was only one woman who came looking for you last night," she replied drily.

"Oh, Jane? She... She's still asleep."

"Good," Michelle replied, rising from her seat. "Excuse me, I need to change."

*************

Jane gracefully adorned herself in a stylish, black long-sleeved blouse, impeccably tucked into white high-waisted boot-cut pants that accentuated her curves. Completing the ensemble, she slipped into a pair of sleek black pumps. With a touch of light makeup, she brushed her hair into a neat, shiny ponytail, and adorned her ears with delicate pearl earrings. Finally, she grabbed her elegant white handbag and confidently exited the room.

"I'm ready," Jane announced, her voice laced with a hint of cool detachment. She was still seething over the audacity of Michelle, who had spent the night in her sacred matrimonial home.

Alex turned his gaze towards her and nodded towards the door. "Let's go."

The drive to the office was filled with silence, and Jane let out a sigh of relief as Alex pulled up beside a towering skyscraper. The pinnacle of the building bore the emblem of "Maxwell Inc."

Upon entering the building, Jane found herself greeted by a series of introductions with both male and female employees. To her surprise, Alex introduced her merely as the new vice president, conveniently omitting the fact that she was his wife. She chose not to dwell on it.

"Jane, this is Mirabelle Jones, the director of operations. She will show you to your office and provide you with some briefings," Alex explained, introducing her to a vibrant young woman after showing her his own spacious office. The woman exuded an air of diligence behind her spectacles.

"I'm leaving her in your capable hands for now, Miss Mirabelle. I have a meeting in five minutes. See you later, Jane," he stated casually before strolling away, accompanied by two other men.

Jane's office was expansive and exquisitely furnished, a space she instantly grew fond of. Mirabelle guided her through the intricacies of running the company as the vice president. Mirabelle, a patient and amiable individual, informed Jane that she was twenty-four years old, just a year older than her, and held a Master's degree from Ottawa University in the Canada. She had joined the company two years ago and graciously briefed Jane on the various individuals she had been introduced to.

Once Mirabelle was satisfied with Jane's orientation, she took her leave, and Jane officially embarked on her first day as Vice President of Jordan Inc, despite her negligent husband's failure to inform her of the exact starting date.

During the lunch break, Jane contemplated heading down to the company cafeteria but thought better of it, uncertain whether her husband would approve of her dining there.

She decided to pay a visit to his office instead, only to find his secretary absent, presumably on her own lunch break. Jane knocked on the door, and a unfamiliar voice granted her entry.

Upon entering, her gaze was immediately drawn to a dark and strikingly handsome man occupying the visitor's chair, his legs nonchalantly draping over her husband's expansive desk as if he owned the place.

"Uh, good afternoon?" Jane greeted, feeling slightly uneasy.

The man's eyes sparkled with admiration as he observed her. "Hello, beautiful."

"I'm here to see Ale... Mr. Jordan," Jane replied, her voice slightly breathless.

"Oh, he just went to freshen up. He'll be here any moment," the man responded smoothly.

"Oh, I see..."

Standing tall at six feet, the young man introduced himself. "The name's Albert Donald, best friend to that stubborn head."

He extended his hand for a handshake, which Jane accepted. "Oh, nice to meet you. I'm Jane," she said simply.

"Mm, that's a truly exquisite name for a remarkably beautiful lady," Albert complimented, gently kissing her hand, just as the adjacent door burst open.

"Is that your latest pickup line, Albert?" Both of them turned towards the source of the deep voice, and there stood Alex, wearing an unmistakable scowl.