My boss's brother wants me and so does my husband

Lena's POV

"Do you really have to go in today?" I asked, my voice laced with frustration as I carefully knotted Noah's tie. "I mean, you've barely been home lately and even when you are here, you're barely present. It's always about work. You promised we'd spend more time together, you promised to take the day off, but here we are again, you're rushing off, and I'm the one helping you look perfect."

I adjusted his shirt collar, smoothing it down with my fingers. He always looked so effortlessly handsome in his crisp white shirt, tailored suit, that dark hair slightly tousled in a way that made my heart skip. He smiled at me, and pulled me closer by the waist. He leaned in and kissed me softly, quickly, but full of that familiar spark. Yet in that moment, I craved more. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me tightly, lift me up, carry me back to our bed, and make love to me the way he used to. The way that unraveled me completely, leaving us both breathless and tangled in the sheets like the way it used to be when we were dating and when it felt like the world revolved around us.

"I'm sorry, darling," he murmured, his voice low and apologetic as he rested his forehead against mine for a brief second. "I know I promised today would be about us, but it's an emergency and I can't say no. I swear I'll make it up to you. I'll resolve this quickly and come back home."

Then he smiled again, the one that lit up his eyes, the one I could never resist, the one that used to make the entire room feel brighter when he walked in. "Yeah, of course," I sighed, pulling away gently. I handed him his lunch bag, the one I'd packed that morning with his favorite sandwich and a note tucked inside, like I always did. He leaned in once more, pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, and then he was gone, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door, feeling the familiar ache settle in my chest. I used to believe in love, the fairytale kind where Prince Charming swoops in, saves the day, and makes everything magical until I didn't anymore. Noah had been my Prince Charming. Sweet, gentle, a hopeless romantic, reliable, the kind of man that existed only in movies or storybooks. He was everything I'd ever wished for, everything I'd ever dreamed of. When he proposed, it was the best day of my life. I was so excited I barely slept for a week.

But now... things were different. He was never around, always distant, emotionally unavailable. And the worst part? It has creeped into every corner of our marriage, especially our sex life. Sex had become rare, and rushed when it happened at all. Now it's all work, work, work.

At first, I understood because his job as the only neurosurgeon at the hospital was demanding and lives depended on him, so I stayed quiet, supported him silently, never complained, and I just went along with it. But one year turned into two, two into three, and now it's been the same routine.

There was a time I suspected he was cheating, I mean any woman in my position would think the same. The late nights, the canceled plans, the emotional walls he put up, everything. But eventually, I realized that wasn't it so I just lived with it or at least tried too.

My phone rang, pulling me out of the swirling thoughts that threatened to consume me. I glanced at the screen and smiled. "Hey, girl! How's it going?" Maya chirped as soon as I answered, her voice bright and bubbly. "Sorry I missed your call last night-I partied way too hard, got totally wasted, and knocked out cold. I just woke up now to see them."

I chuckled, switching to speakerphone as I started folding the laundry I'd left piled on the couch. "It's alright, Maya. I just wanted your help with something, but when you didn't pick up, I figured you had better things to do so I handled it myself." I teased her lightly.

She burst into that infectious laugh, the one I'd heard my whole life but still couldn't get used to. "Ouch! Fair enough. Anyway, spill. What's the plan for today? Have you told him yet?"

"No, I haven't," I admitted, a small smile creeping back onto my face. "It's a surprise. I booked us a table at a really nice restaurant, somewhere private, just how he likes it. So I'll just text him the address, and hopefully he shows up."

"Damn, girl! Congratulations," Maya said, excitedly. "I don't know how you do it but if I were in your shoes, I'd have left ages ago. You know I don't have the patience to handle a mama's boy."

I laughed as I carried the folded clothes to the wardrobe. "He's not a mama's boy, Maya. He just loves his mom a lot." I defended, even though she was right.

"Yeah, right," she shot back, and I could imagine her rolling her eyes. "Don't we all do? Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Make sure you fill me in on all the deets later. Love you, pumpkin."

"Love you more," I replied, ending the call with a soft sigh.

After finishing the laundry, I tidied up a few more things around the house. The dishes from breakfast, dusted the shelves, anything to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied from wandering too far. Finally, I picked up my phone and texted Noah. 'Dinner at Alejandro's, 7pm. Don't be late. Love, Lena'.

A few minutes later, his reply buzzed in 'Got it, babe. See you at 7'. I smiled at the screen, a flicker of hope warming me. Today was our third wedding anniversary and I wanted it to be special, I wanted it to be perfect, and that's why I planned a surprise, who knows, perhaps it might reignite that spark we'd lost somewhere along the way.

I'd gotten my nails, lashes, and hair done the day before, soft waves cascading down my back, a fresh manicure in a subtle nude shade. I wanted to look stunning for him, more beautiful than ever. I slipped into my tight, body-hugging red dress, the one with a subtle slit in the middle that teased just enough, defined my curves and gave a glimpse of cleavage. I added the gold earrings, necklace, and bangles he'd bought me last month as an apology gift.

I applied my red glossy lipstick, the shade he adored and never hesitated to kiss off my lip, sprayed my favorite cologne, which happens to be his favorite, the one that always made him pull me closer and bury his face in my neck. I hung my long coat over my shoulders, took one final look in the mirror, adjusted my hair, smoothed my dress, and took a deep breath. Everything had to be perfect. For him. For us.

I hailed a taxi and headed to Alejandro's, a cozy, upscale spot known for its intimate booths, soft lighting, and private corners perfect for couples. When I arrived, the hostess confirmed my reservation with a warm smile and led me to our table in a secluded corner. I removed my coat, draped it over the chair, and sat down, feeling a little nervous. Soon, a waiter approached me. "Good evening, ma'am. What can I get for you this evening?"

"Uh, good evening, actually I'm waiting for someone," I replied, offering a polite smile. "But I'll have a glass of wine for now, please. Thank you."

He bowed slightly and left, returning later with a crystal glass of rich red wine. He set it down gracefully and left me to my thoughts. I took a sip, the velvety smoothness calming my nerves and pulled out my tablet. I had some work emails to attend to, and since Noah wasn't here yet, I figured I could do that while waiting.

An hour passed and I checked the time, it was past 8 p.m. I called him and it went straight to voicemail. I told myself maybe he was stuck in traffic, or maybe he had an emergency, giving him the benefit of the doubt that he wouldn't stand me up. Not on our anniversary. But one hour turned into two, then three. Still no call, no text. Nothing.

I watched couples come and go, holding hands, laughing softly, stealing kisses under the dim candlelight. One table even had a proposal as applause rippled through the room. It stung, as it became a sharp reminder of the thrill, the fire, the spark I'd once felt in my own marriage. Now, it all seemed like a distant dream, a fallacy I'd clung unto for too long. Finally, I signaled the waiter. "Could I have the bill, please?"

I paid quietly, gathered my coat, and walked out with as much dignity as I could muster, the cool night air clawing at my skin. When I got home, I kicked off my heels at the door, the sharp pain in my feet was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. I collapsed onto the bed, still in my dress, and let the tears come hot, silent sobs that shook my entire body.

Eventually, I got up, dragged my weary body to the bathroom. I turned on the shower, letting the hot water pour all over me, hoping it would wash away the pain, the hurt, the anger, and the crushing disappointment I just experienced. When I came out, I slipped into my favorite sweatpants and oversized tee and decided to work for a bit. If my husband couldn't appreciate me, at least my boss would. I opened my laptop and dove into work, losing myself in emails and reports for a couple of hours.

Then the door swung open and Noah walked in, looking exhausted, tie loosened, hair a mess, but he managed a tired smile. "Baby, I'm so, so sorry I couldn't make it to dinner," he said immediately, crossing the room toward me. "I got swamped at work and I wasn't even with my phone. I just came out of the operating room and saw your missed calls. I promise I'll make it up to you."

He leaned down, kissing my forehead softly before brushing past me to unbutton his shirt. I exhaled heavily, closed my laptop and stood up, folding my arms across my chest as I faced him. "Do you even know what today is?" I asked, my voice steady but laced with anger.

He paused, looking at me with genuine confusion. "What do you-"

"Today was our anniversary, Noah," I cut in, a bitter chuckle escaping my lips. "Our fucking third-year anniversary and you forgot about it."

His eyes widened in horror as he pulled out his phone, glancing at the date. "Fuck! Babe, I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea otherwise, I would have-"

"You would have done what, Noah?" I interrupted again, my voice rising as anger surged through me. I stepped closer, charging toward him. "Made up another excuse about being too busy? How there was an emergency? How you'll make it up to me but you never do? What else is new? What else do you have to say?"

He opened his mouth to protest, but I held up my hand sharply. "I'm tired, Noah. I'm tired of these endless excuses. I'm done making them for you, I'm done being patient, done being understanding, done feeling like this."

I grabbed my laptop, shoved it into my tote bag with trembling hands. "I'm going to Maya's for the night. Do whatever the fuck you want."

"Let me guess, he stood you up again?" Maya asked the moment she opened her apartment door, her eyes scanning my tear-streaked face and the bag slung over my shoulder. I could only nod, as the words caught in my throat like shards of glass. She reached out gently, pulling me inside with a soft, sympathetic tug, guiding me straight to the plush couch in her living room. I sank into it, curling my knees up as I fought the fresh wave of tears threatening to spill. I'd cried enough on the cab ride over that left my eyes swollen and my chest aching.

Maya disappeared into the kitchen, returned moments later with two crystal wine glasses and a chilled bottle of red wine. She popped the cork, poured generously into both glasses, and handed me one. "Cheers to surviving another night," she said softly, clinking her glass against mine.

I didn't hesitate as I gulped it down, the rich, velvety liquid burning down my throat. Maybe, just maybe, the alcohol would loosen the grip on my chest. Maya refilled my glass immediately, her expression a mix of concern and barely contained anger. "I told you to dump his ass, Lena. You're way too good for him. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

She sat beside me, tucking her legs under her. "You've been married for three years, three fucking years, not three days, not three weeks, not three months. And what do you have to show for it? Absolutely nothing. Instead of holding him accountable, you're out here making excuses for him every single time. That's pathetic, babe."

Her words stung, sharp and direct, but they came from a place of love. I exhaled slowly, scooting closer until my head rested on her shoulder. "You know it wasn't always like this, Maya," I murmured, my voice low. "When we were dating, he was the sweetest, most intentional man I'd ever met. He bought me flowers for no reason, we had late-night drives, he remembered every little detail about me. But then the big job came with more duties, more responsibilities. And I wanted to be the supportive wife, so I chose to go with it. I never thought it would get this bad."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Supportive wife, indeed. And yet here you are, crying on my couch because he forgot your anniversary. I mean, come on, what kind of man does that? No matter how busy you are, that date should be scarred in your memory. Or, hell, set a damn calendar reminder. There's no excuse, Lena and you need to stop making them for him."

She reached over and tapped my head gently, almost playfully, but her eyes were serious. I took another slow sip of my wine, letting my mind wander off to a time when I believed that love was something that grew, not something that faded away when you weren't looking. Marrying Noah at 22 felt like stepping into a life drenched in sunshine, hope, and certainty. I'd been convinced that his stability, his steady job, his gentle nature, equaled my happiness. But it was all a lie because, somewhere along the way, we drifted apart and now it felt we were just roommates living together.

The silence stretched between us until Maya broke it, her voice softer now. "Honey, you're welcome to stay here as long as you need, but I think it's high time you start living for you, not for this made-up version of a fairytale marriage you've been clinging unto."

I let out a weak chuckle, wiping my eyes. "Thank you, Maya. I'll be heading to work from here tomorrow, so I might need to raid your closet."

"That's never a problem, babe. You know I've got you," she said enthusiastically, her grin returning. "So... how about we watch a movie? You get to pick." I nodded gratefully.

She jumped up, disappeared into the kitchen again and returned with a massive bowl of buttery popcorn, as if she'd anticipated this exact moment. We decided to watch a lighthearted rom-com movie, ironic maybe, but it was enough to numb the pain. Halfway through the movie, with my head on her lap and her fingers gently combing through my hair, I finally drifted to sleep.

The next morning, I stepped into the towering glass facade of the Blackwood Building with my messy personal life shoved firmly into a locked box at the back of my mind. The structure stood at three hundred meters into the city skyline, a sleek monument to ambition, power, and unimaginable wealth. The Blackwood Corporation was one of the most influential, secretive enterprise in the country, run by Ethan Blackwood himself. The cold, intimidating, utterly unreadable man, whose gaze created an intimidating atmosphere, and his

presence alone commanded rooms without him speaking.

I worked as his executive assistant, a role that demanded perfection, discretion, and an iron stomach. He rarely spoke to me unless it was absolutely necessary, which was fine by me as long as it paid the bills. I slipped into the elevator, pressed the button for the 99th floor, the exclusive domain of Ethan's office and my small corner.

When the doors opened, I moved to my desk, a modern glass-and-steel setup just outside his massive double doors. I dropped my bag, powered on my laptop, and went straight into the emails I'd prepped the night before. Going through each one meticulously, I checked for any typo, any misplaced comma, anything that might draw his wrath because Ethan demanded flawlessness. The desk phone buzzed sharply. "Lena, get in here now." His voice was clipped, cold as the line went dead before I could respond.

I have gotten used to how he spoke to me, it was only hard in my first year when he'd lash out, calling me stupid, slow, incompetent, and whatever insult fit the moment. I was always crying in the bathroom back then, but now? It doesn't faze me.

I stood up, smoothed my borrowed blouse and pencil skirt and headed out as I knocked lightly on his door. "Come in," came the cold, authoritative reply.

I entered, my hands clasped politely in front of me, stopping at a respectful distance from his desk. "Good morning, Mr. Blackwood," I said in my practiced, professional tone, offering a small smile.

"Good morning, Lena," he responded without glancing up from his computer screen, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

"We have a very important meeting with some business partners and investors in thirty minutes," he continued, checking his sleek watch. "Get the executive boardroom ready. You know what to do."

He flicked his hand dismissively, a clear signal that our conversation was over. I nodded slightly, bowing just enough to acknowledge before turning to leave. Although I felt his gaze on my back as I walked out, heavy and assessing, like always. In under twenty minutes, the boardroom was impeccable. I'd printed the agendas, financial reports, and projections, placing one perfectly aligned set at each leather chair. The bottled water was placed too, but sparkling water for Ethan, and light snacks arranged with precision.

Soon, the double doors swung open as executives and investors filed in, murmuring greetings and taking their seats. Most meetings didn't directly concern me, the corporate strategies and multimillion-dollar deals often sailed over my head but Ethan insisted I attended every one he led and even those he didn't, I would act as his eyes and ears. I took my usual spot beside him, the tablet ready, prepared to document everything.

The head of marketing, a tall, slender man named Richard, stood up to begin the presentation, clicking through slides on the massive screen. "For the first quarter of the year," he began confidently, "I propose we abandon traditional marketing strategies entirely. We've got to accept that artificial intelligence and modern technology are the dominating trends. So to hit and exceed our sales quotas, I recommend we invest heavily in the new Nano AI Strategy Bot recently launched by Vale Enterprises, our leading investor."

He concluded, and the room erupted with nods of approval, heated debates, counterarguments about risks versus rewards. Voices overlapped as opinions clashed.

I typed quickly, staying invisible as always, speaking only when directly addressed too. Just then Ethan glanced at me and our eyes met for a fleeting second, his were unreadable, while mine quickly darted back to my tablet. He cleared his throat once, and the room went silent as every head turned toward him.

"I think that's a good idea," he said evenly, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Given how rapidly the world is evolving, it's only logical we adapt to current trends. So here's what we're gonna do, we'll run a controlled test on the Nano AI bot this quarter and if it drives conversions, increases sales, and boosts exposure as projected, then we'll commit to full investment."

Murmurs of agreement rippled around the table as Richard beamed, glowing with pride as he unwrapped a chocolate bar and popped it into his mouth triumphantly.

Ethan leaned back slightly, commanding attention once again. "Everyone," he announced, "we have a guest joining us shortly and he's returning after many years of being away. Please join me in welcoming Adrian Blackwood."

"Adrian Blackwood?" I muttered under my breath, the name slipping past my lips as the boardroom doors swung open.

The air shifted the moment he stepped in and I almost forgot how to breathe for a second. He was nothing like Ethan who carried an icy, controlled authority. Adrian exuded an effortless, dangerous confidence that seemed to flood the room before he even opened his mouth. He wore a tailored dark suit that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, the top buttons of his crisp white shirt undone just enough to reveal a glimpse of a chiseled chest. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he'd run a hand through it on purpose, and his sharp, assessing eyes swept the table.

He was devastatingly attractive in a way that felt seductive, almost forbidden. He was the kind of man who screamed trouble, and yet, you couldn't help but want to get yourself in his web. His gaze landed on me. It wasn't a polite flicker, not a brief acknowledgment, it was deliberate, almost intimate. It lingered, like he was stripping away layers I didn't even know I had. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I quickly dropped my eyes to my tablet, pretending to type. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his lips curve into a faint, knowing smile, as if he'd caught my reaction and found it amusing.

He moved to Ethan's side, gripping his brother's shoulder lightly. "Good morning, everyone," he said, his voice deep and smooth, laced with a hint of amusement. "I'm Adrian Blackwood, as Ethan already introduced. I look forward to working with each and every one of you."

He flashed a smile, revealing those perfect white teeth, killer dimples that deepened just enough to make my stomach flip. The room instantly responded, as introductions followed, each executive taking their turn to stand, announce their title, and subtly brag about their shares or influence. Typical corporate shenanigan.

Then Adrian took the empty seat beside me and the subtle warmth of his body heat reached me, along with the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It was warm, woody, and expensive. As the meeting dragged toward the end, I struggled to focus because every time Adrian directed a question to the room, his eyes stayed locked on me unwavering, like they were meant for me.

To my own surprise, I answered them flawlessly, going beyond what he expected. Even the table fell quiet a few times, as heads turned in mild shock. Even Ethan glanced at me once, eyebrows raised. Each time I finished speaking, Adrian's gaze sharpened, as if he was memorizing every detail of my face, committing it to memory.

When the meeting finally wrapped up, everyone filed out with Ethan leading, of course. I stayed behind to clear the room, stacking empty water bottles, gathering stray wrappers. "You know," a low, velvety voice said behind me, "you're wasting your talents hiding behind a laptop."

I jumped, spinning around with a handful of bottles. I hadn't heard him slip back in. Adrian leaned casually against the doorframe,his hands in his pockets, watching me with that same intense amusement. "I'm sorry-what?" I asked, my voice softer than intended, confusion flickering across my face.

He pushed off the frame, closing the distance slowly, as he slightly bent to read my name badge pinned to my blouse. His proximity sent a shiver down my spine. "Lena, is it?" he said, straightening with a slow smile. He extended his hand. "I'm Adrian Blackwood."

I took it nervously, my palm brushing against his warm, firm grip. A jolt shot through me. "Yes, I know, Mr. Blackwood," I managed, forcing a professional smile. "You introduced yourself earlier. It's nice to meet you. It's Lena Marsh." I correctly politely, pulling my hand away quickly as I felt it tremble.

He chuckled softly. "Please, call me Adrian. 'Mr. Blackwood' makes me feel ancient, and honestly, I'm not that old." His tone was light, teasing, as he stepped closer, his hands sliding back into his pockets.

"Right Mr Blackwood-I mean Adrian," I corrected, meeting his gaze again despite the flutter in my chest. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

He shook his head, leaning against the conference table and folding his arms across his broad chest. The movement pulled his shirt tighter. "Not at all. I'm just impressed at how you handled those questions earlier. Honestly, I wasn't expecting your answers to be thorough, which is why I say you're wasting your talents being just an assistant to Ethan. With your knowledge and insight, you could easily run a department yourself."

I smiled politely, nodding as I gathered the last empty wrappers and tossed them into the bin. "Thank you for the compliment, Mr Blackwood but I have Mr Blackwood to thank for pushing me to be this efficient. I love my job and I'm okay being his assistant."

Just as he opened his mouth to respond, the door swung open again. "Lena," Ethan's sharp voice cut through the air. He stood in the doorway, one hand in his pocket, posture rigid. "What are you still doing here? I need those emails forwarded to the clients before close of business. Stop slacking and get back to work."

I nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. Right away."

I brushed past Adrian on my way out, our arms grazing for a split second and I caught the faint smirk on his lips as I hurried out the door. My cheeks turned red the moment I stepped into the hallway. Heat crawled up my thighs, as I practically fled to my office. I shut the door firmly behind me, leaning against it for a moment to catch my breath.

Why did he look at me like that? Like I was a woman he wanted for himself. Like he saw me, the real me, not just the invisible assistant in the corner. I replayed every moment, the flash of desire in his eyes when he leaned down to read my badge, the genuine admiration in his compliments, that knowing smirk as I left. All the things I hadn't felt in years with Noah, being seen, being desired, being alive, all came suddenly rushing back with this stranger. Adrian Blackwood. The infamous black sheep of the family, notorious for his various scandals, and irresistible to women who threw themselves at him without hesitation.

Was wanting him wrong? Was craving every inch of my body being explored by this dangerously seductive man a betrayal? I couldn't tell, but one thing was crystal clear, for the first time in forever, I felt desired, intoxicatingly desired. I straightened my blouse, smoothed my hair, and unlocked the door. I sat at my desk, opened my laptop, as I sat smiling, lost in that whirlwind of painful desires and forbidden pleasures. Then my phone buzzed on the desk. It was an sms from Sophia, Noah's mother.

I exhaled heavily, as a knot formed in my stomach. Anything from her always made me anxious, jumpy, maybe that's because she never liked me, or because she thinks I stole her son away from her, or because she blames me for being the reason why we hadn't had children yet, the obstacle to her perfect plans for him.

I opened the message as my eyes scanned it. 'Leave my son alone, you witch. Since you aren't ready to bear him children, let him move on and find someone who will. The clock is ticking, Lena'.

The phone slipped from my hand, and landed on the desk. And for a moment, the world blurred. My office suddenly felt suffocating, as I began to have a panic attack. I stood up abruptly, pushing the chair back, I fled to my safe haven, a quiet stairwell corner on a rarely used floor. I collapsed onto the cold concrete stairs, burying my face in my hands as I sobbed uncontrollably.

Sophia never really liked me even when I was just dating Noah. She'd accused me of brainwashing him into marriage, and that I didn't fit into the plans she has for him. After our first year, that's when it became more serious. Insinuations about my "failure" to get pregnant, subtle jabs at family gatherings. I'd told Noah countless times, begged him to intervene but he always brushed it off by making it seem like I was overreacting, or that I should give her some time to come around. It's been 3 years and rather than getting better, it got worse.

I don't know how long I sat down there, lost in the storm of tears and ragged breaths that I didn't realize when a warm presence settled beside me. I was startled as I made to stand up but a gentle hand caught mine, pulling me back down tenderly as he lifted my chin to his face, those piercing eyes gleaming now with concern.

"Anyone or anything that makes you shed tears like this," Adrian said softly, his voice low and steady, "isn't worth being in your life."