My Boss’s Hidden Heir (Elara and Marcus) novel Chapter 22

“Are you breaking up with me?” Elara asked. “Before the wedding even happens?”

Marcus raised an eyebrow.

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“Damn, it’s only been a week. Are you tired of me already?” She shook her head with a soft chuckle. “I sold this whole story to Emeka. Told him we’ve been secretly dating for a year. Now I’m getting dumped before we even make it official?”

The absurdity of it all hit her. Here she was, in a fake relationship with a man who’d made her life hell for three years, worried about being fake–dumped.

This man was impossible. Beautiful, powerful, and annoying in equal measure.

“I’ve considered it a few times,” Marcus said. But he was smiling. Actually smiling.

“Excuse me?”

“Relax. I’m joking.” He leaned back in the chair, looking more relaxed than she’d seen him all week. “I wanted to tell you about the company dinner on Wednesday. You’re coming with me.”

“Finally. Some action.” Elara sat up straighter. A whole week of sitting in this penthouse doing nothing but eating ice cream and watching reality TV was driving her crazy. “I almost died of boredom this week. What’s the event for? Which

charity?”

Marcus waved his hand dismissively. “Does it matter?”

“Right. One of those elite things where people dress up and show off their cars.”

“Exactly.”

Of course it was. These events were never really about charity. They were about being seen. About networking. About proving you had enough money to waste on a single plate of food that cost more than most people’s monthly rent.

But at least it would get her out of the house.

His phone rang. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his entire expression changed. The smile disappeared. The relaxed posture went rigid.

“Hold on.” He answered. “What?”

Elara couldn’t hear the other side but she watched his face shift from annoyed to furious in about two seconds.

“An impromptu meeting?” His voice could have frozen hell over. “And you forgot to log it in my schedule?”

There it was. The Marcus she knew. Cold. Calculating. Ready to destroy whoever had made the mistake.

She’d been on the receiving end of that tone more times than she could count. Three years of impossible deadlines and forgotten details that somehow became her problem. Three years of walking on eggshells wondering if today would be the day he finally fired her.

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Chapter 22

30 Apr

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And now here she was. Living in his penthouse. About to marry him. Playing house with the man who used to make her want to scream into her pillow every night.

Life was weird.

“Don’t do anything. I’m on my way.” He ended the call and stood, already moving toward the door.

“Problem?” Elara asked.

“Nothing important.”

Translation: extremely important but he wasn’t going to explain it to her because that would require actually treating her like an equal instead of just someone who happened to live in his house.

She’d learned not to press when he got like this. The walls went up. The cold mask slid into place. And nothing she said. would get through.

Marcus grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “The card for Wednesday’s event is on the counter. Black tie.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up.”

And then he was gone. No goodbye. No see you later. Just the sound of the elevator doors closing and silence filling the penthouse again.

Elara sat there for a minute, staring at the spot where he’d been standing.

A week. She’d been here a whole week and this was the longest conversation they’d had. Ten minutes of actual talking before work pulled him away again.

Two years of this. She had two years of living with a man who barely acknowledged her existence unless he needed

something.

Great.

She got up and walked to the kitchen. The card was exactly where he said it would be. Thick. Expensive paper. Gold lettering.

*Annual Charity Gala. Benefiting the Homeless and Chronically III.*

At least it was for a good cause. Not just rich people throwing money around to feel better about themselves. Actually helping people who needed it.

She could respect that.

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