My Secret Husband Is My Cold Boss novel Chapter 6

What kind of man did that?

Already enraged by the misogynistic video from earlier, Riley was practically viewing every man as a walking red flag.

She looked at Wendy. “Even if you got the wrong guy yesterday, there's no way he made the same mistake, right?”

Had Sampson made a mistake?

Wendy mentally calculated the probabilities, recalling the heavy, assessing way he had looked at her the moment she sat down.

She had to admit the truth. “...No, he definitely knew what he was doing.”

As for why he had played along with the mistaken identity, it was likely because he was also desperate for a wife on short notice.

That was the only logical conclusion Wendy could draw.

But Riley was seething. “Then he absolutely trapped you in a fraudulent marriage.”

Riley's chest heaved with indignation. Wendy knew her best friend was just looking out for her.

But a fraudulent marriage?

Sampson really had no reason to do that.

Looking at the two of them side-by-side—he was a star cardiothoracic surgeon, while she was a junior resident without a house, a car, or even an attending title to her name.

What exactly could a man like him possibly scam out of her?

Wendy parted her lips, intending to explain his background to put Riley at ease.

Just as she was about to speak, the duty phone rang sharply.

“Chief Gates! We have an emergency transfer inbound from a local clinic!”

“I'm on my way.”

Wendy slammed the receiver down and hurried out the door. “Riley, we'll talk about this later.”

“Well, look who finally found some free time in his schedule.”

The moment Sampson stepped through his front door, he was greeted with Winona's signature sarcasm.

Sitting on the couch with a book in her hands, his mother looked remarkably lively and energetic.

Catching sight of him, Winona scoffed and dramatically turned her back to him.

“Mom.”

Sampson walked over to address her.

“Save it.”

She whirled back around, fuming. “You've been back in the States for half a month and haven't shown your face once. Honestly, at this point, you're the parent.”

Long accustomed to her theatrics, he remained silent and simply took a seat on the opposite sofa.

“Is your heart feeling better?” he asked.

Knowing he was about to brush her off with the usual lines, she cut him off.

“What was wrong with Dr. Qu yesterday? She's from a prestigious medical family, she's stunning, and I heard she's had a crush on you for years. Not good enough for you?”

Winona continued her relentless badgering.

A headache began to throb at his temples. “Mom, I don't need to go on blind dates...”

Fueling her own rage, she slammed a hand on the table. “You don't need blind dates? Then why haven't you found someone yourself?”

“I'm not picky. As long as she breathes, I'll take her.”

“Tall, short, thick, thin, sweet, wild, twenty, thirty... Hell, if you bring home a sixty-year-old woman, I'll welcome her with open arms.”

“Mom,” Sampson warned, his brow furrowing.

Winona shot him a defiant look, unyielding. “This isn't up for debate.”

“You're practically forty. If you stay single any longer, you'll dry up and rot, and no one will want you.”

As a freshly thirty-year-old man who was apparently 'practically forty', Sampson was more than used to his mother's aggressive rounding-up of his age.

It was impossible to get a word in edgewise when she was on a roll.

So, he simply reached into his pocket and pulled out his marriage certificate.

“Mom, what I meant by 'I don't need blind dates' is that I'm already married.”