Returning with Triple Treasures: My CEO Husband Is Obsessed novel Chapter 10

"Cancel it." With those clipped words, Xavier walked out of the boardroom.

Jacob scrambled to follow. In all his years of service, he had never seen Xavier neglect a critical meeting. It was unprecedented.

Given Xavier's character, even if his house were being burglarized or was on fire, he wouldn't have flinched. He would have delegated and continued with business.

"Mr. Moore, regarding the situation at the residence—should I handle it? Contact security or the police?" Jacob ventured as he kept pace with Xavier's long, furious strides through the corporate hallway.

Xavier stopped dead. The look he turned on Jacob was so cold and fierce it seemed to suck the air from the space. Jacob nearly stumbled back.

"Are your ears decorative? She is Mrs. Moore."

The words held no warmth, only a stark, irrefutable fact that sent Jacob's mind reeling.

Mrs. Moore? Mr. Moore actually has a wife?

But the storm raging around Xavier was so palpable that Jacob swallowed every follow-up question.

Half an hour later, after a tense, silent car ride, Jacob discovered the identity of this wife. It was Isabella. The woman who had supposedly died five years ago.

When Isabella answered the villa's massive front door wearing silk pajamas, Jacob felt the ground tilt beneath him.

Isabella looked past Xavier at his pale assistant and smiled, a touch of genuine amusement in her eyes. "Jacob. Long time no see. You've lost weight." The unspoken subtext hung in the air. Working for him really takes it out of you, doesn't it?

"M-M-Mrs..." Jacob's tongue seemed to trip over itself.

"Don't worry," Isabella said lightly. "I'm flesh and blood. Not a ghost."

Her calm assurance did little to settle Jacob's nerves.

Once the door closed, sealing them in the cavernous foyer, Isabella turned her full attention to Xavier. The provocative smile returned. "You're home early. I don't think I've ever seen you rush back like this before."

The words had barely left her lips when Xavier's hand shot out. His fingers closed around her throat, not enough to cut off her air, but with enough force to push her back against the wall beside a sleek console table. He leaned in, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing near her face, his expression so dark it seemed he wanted to consume her whole. "Who gave you permission to come here?"

The room was an assault on his senses. The minimalist, handcrafted leather sofa was gone. In its place was a sprawling sectional upholstered in a vivid, saccharine pink velvet.

A light-blue lacquered liquor cabinet stood where a stainless-steel wine cooler had been. The industrial-chic charcoal-gray refrigerator was now a soft pastel yellow. A grass-green marble coffee table completed the chaotic, candy-colored transformation.

The sophisticated monochromatic palette he demanded had been obliterated by a riot of clashing, cheerful hues.

Emma scurried over, wringing her hands. "Mr. Moore! This woman... She insisted she was your wife! She called the interior design firm herself. We tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen!" She watched his stormy expression, hoping to stoke his fury.

Isabella followed at a leisurely pace. "I noticed the decor hadn't changed in five years. Thought I'd help you refresh things. It's a bit bold, I know, but this maximalist color-blocking is all the rage right now."

She knew. Of course she knew. Xavier abhorred bright colors. His world was a meticulously curated spectrum of black, white, charcoal, and navy. Any deviation was a transgression.

This very villa, even the bedroom that had been hers, was a study in monochrome—less a home, more a stark, elegant prison.

Xavier's chest rose and fell with a heavy, controlled rhythm. He finally spoke, each word bitten off and chillingly calm. "Did you do all this?"