My Boss's Hidden Heir (Elara and Marcus) novel Chapter 113

Marcus’s and Dante’s POV

“What do you think we should do about this p?” Dante asked, settling back against the couch cushions and crossing one ankle over his knee.

Marcus rubbed his face with both hands, dragging them down slowly until they covered his mouth. He stared at nothing in particular for a long moment before answering.

“Honestly? I don’t know. There’s absolutely nothing to be done.”

He settled deeper into the couch, his entire body language screaming defeat in a way Dante had rarely seen from his best friend. Marcus Thorne didn’t do defeat. He was the guy who bulldozed through problems with sheer force of will, who found solutions where none existed, who never backed down from a challenge no matter how impossible it seemed.

But this situation? This had broken something fundamental in him.

“I’m just waiting,” Marcus continued, his voice hollow and flat. “Waiting for when Penelope takes that contract to the board. Waiting for the moment I have to stand in front of my grandfather’s colleagues and kiss goodbye to everything. All my life’s work, everything my grandfather spent decades building, everything I’ve spent the last eight years protecting and growing. Gone. Just like that.”

He paused, then gestured angrily upstairs toward where Elara’s room was located. “Just because of that… that…”

He couldn’t even finish the sentence. The words died in his throat, replaced by a sound of pure frustration.

“No, no, don’t call her names, Marcus,” Dante said firmly, his tone taking on an edge of warning. “You’re angry, I get it. You have every right to be angry. Yes, she fucked up. That’s no news to anyone.”

“That’s no news?” Marcus’s voice rose sharply. “She fucked up? Are you seriously kidding me right now,

Dante?”

He stood up abruptly and started pacing across the expensive rug, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. The movement was aggressive, agitated, like he had too much energy and nowhere to put it.

“That chick has ruined my life. Literally completely ruined it. Do you understand that? Do you actually comprehend what this means?”

“Marcus….”

“There’s no way I can counter that contract if it’s presented to the board,” Marcus cut him off, his pacing getting faster. “None. Zero. My signature is right there on every single page. Elara’s signature is there. The terms are laid out in black and white. None of that stuff is written in code or buried in legal jargon that can be interpreted in different ways. It’s plain and direct and damning.”

Marcus stopped pacing and spun to face Dante, his expression a mixture of desperation and rage. “Fake marriage agreement. Duration of two years. Financial compensation of two million dollars paid upfront. What possible excuse am I supposed to give to the board? What explanation could I offer that wouldn’t sound like complete bullshit?”

15:06 Mon, May 11

Chapter 113

He spread his arms wide, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh sorry, gentlemen, I know my grandfather’s will specifically stated the marriage had to be real and entered into with genuine intent, but I decided to hire a woman to pretend to be my wife instead. My bad.”

“Marcus….”

“Tell me, Dante. No, seriously, tell me what I’m supposed to say. Because it seems like everyone around me has brilliant ideas on what should be done except for me.

Elara thinks apologizing will fix it. You’re sitting there asking me what we should do like I have some master plan hidden up my sleeve. But I don’t. I have nothing.”

His voice was getting higher now, louder, the sound echoing off the high ceilings and expensive artwork that decorated the penthouse walls.

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I’ve been living with the problem for the past week while I avoid my own fake wife and work myself to death at the office. What I need is an actual solution. A plan.

Something actionable that we can do right now to fix this mess.”

He walked over to where he’d tossed his suit jacket earlier and picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder with more force than necessary. “But since we don’t have one, since all we can do is sit here and talk in circles about how fucked I am, I think we should call it a night.”

“Marcus, come on….”

“Go home, Dante.” Marcus’s voice was firm. “We’ll see each other tomorrow at the office like always. I’m tired and I honestly don’t want to talk about this anymore tonight. It’s just making me angrier and that’s not helping anyone.”

He took one step toward the stairs, ready to retreat to his bedroom where he could pour himself a drink strong enough to help him sleep. Maybe three drinks. Maybe the whole bottle.

That’s when he heard Dante’s voice, clear and calm and absolutely serious.

“Let’s steal the contract back from Penelope.”

AD