She Was Never Just the Wife novel Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

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Inside the CEO’s office at Lucero Group, Beckham had just hung up the internal line when the door pushed open gently.

Laylah walked in, her steps light. She wore a pale apricot business suit, the skirt falling to her knees, her hair neatly pinned up, her makeup polished but not heavy, and a beige folder in her hand.

The outfit was different from her usual soft, graceful look; it had a sharper edge to it.

“Beckham.” She stopped in front of the desk, her voice gentle.

Beckham glanced up at her, his eyes lingering for a couple of seconds. “Have a seat.”

Laylah sat down on the guest couch, placed the folder on her lap, and folded her hands on top of it. Perfect posture.

“What brings you to the office today?” Beckham asked, his tone calm as he had already composed himself back to his usual cool demeanor, though a trace of gloom still lingered deep in his eyes.

Laylah pressed her lips together, then spoke softly. “Beckham, I want to… find a job.”

Beckham raised an eyebrow. “A job?”

“Yes.” Laylah nodded, her fingers brushing the edge of the folder. “Your mother has Ricardo most of the time now. I’m home all day with nothing to do.

“Besides, my dad hasn’t been well lately. The doctors said he needs rest. Eventually, the family business is going to fall on me.”

She paused and looked up at him. “But I studied dance abroad. I don’t know the first thing about running a company. If I just walk into the family business, the senior employees won’t respect me.

“So I was wondering… could I learn the ropes at Lucero Group?”

The office fell quiet for a few seconds.

Beckham studied her, something more analytical in his gaze now. “You want to work at Lucero Group?” he

asked.

“Just to learn,” Laylah said. “Give me six months. Once I understand how a corporation runs, I’ll go back to my family’s company. That way, when I take over, I won’t be completely lost.” Her voice was sincere, her eyes clear, and her posture humble.

Beckham leaned back in his chair and looked at the face he had known for over a decade.

Back in college, he and Laylah had gone to the same university. She was a dance major in the arts school, and he was in the business school.

They would have had nothing to do with each other if not for a campus anniversary event.

Back then, she had been the one who stood out the most on stage, yet she never acted like a rich girl.

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He remembered one rehearsal that ran late, when she was so exhausted she fell asleep in a corner backstage, still clutching her dance shoes.

Later, he found out Laylah had been working all kinds of odd jobs on the side, a teaching assistant at a dance studio, a barista at a coffee shop, even some catalog modeling, not because her family needed the

money.

The Steins had plenty. She did it because she wanted to make it on her own.

Once, Beckham asked her why she pushed herself so hard. She smiled and said, “I want to prove that I’m not just Nash Stein’s daughter. I’m Laylah.”

That never-back-down drive and her refusal to coast on her family name had been almost blinding to Beckham back then.

Laylah had also signed up for a program that paired college students with kids in poor rural areas. Every week, she volunteered to teach dance to children in remote mountain villages through video calls.

One time, a little girl asked her shyly, “Ms. Stein, can I dance like you someday?”

Laylah had looked into the camera, her eyes curving into a smile. “Of course you can. As long as you keep trying, you can do anything.”

In that moment, Beckham stood at the back door of the classroom, watching her gentle yet resolute profile, and something inside him was quietly stirred.

Not long after, Beckham and Laylah got together. Campus romance was simple and sweet. He studied in the library preparing for grad school, while she sweated it out in the dance studio.

He pulled all-nighters in the lab working on projects, while she stayed late in the dance room, correcting her moves over and over.

Sometimes, late at night, he would pick her up from the studio and find her collapsed on the floor, completely drained, then walk over, hand her a bottle of water, and carry her on his back all the way to her dorm.

She used to whisper in his ear, “Beckham, will we always be like this?”

He would say, “We will.”

Back then, Beckham had really loved Laylah. He loved her drive, her grit, and the way her eyes always seemed to shine.

Until things changed.

Beckham pulled himself back to the present and refocused on Laylah sitting across from him. Time had left its marks on her face, but her eyes still looked as clear as they had back then.

“Beckham?” Laylah called softly.

Beckham snapped out of it. He was quiet for a moment, then spoke. “Which department do you want

work in?”

Laylah’s eyes lit up, but she quickly held back. “I don’t know anything about business. Any department

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Chapter 19

would work, as long as I can learn.”

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“Come to the executive office then,” Beckham said. “You’ll see every aspect of how the company runs there. That’ll help you the most.”

“The executive office?” Laylah looked surprised, then quickly shook her head. “No, no, that won’t work. That’s too close to you. I wouldn’t fit in there. I don’t know anything. I’d just get in the way. Just put me in some regular department.”

“A regular department won’t do much for you.” Beckham cut her off, his tone flat. “The executive office is busy. You’ll work late a lot. But you’ll learn the most there. Aren’t you in a hurry to get up to speed?”

Laylah bit her lip. Hesitation flickered across her face, but in the end, she nodded. “Alright then. Thank you, Beckham.”

“No worries.” Beckham pressed the button on his desk phone. “Chad, come in here.”

The door opened a moment later. A young man in a dark gray suit and gold-rimmed glasses walked in. He looked to be in his early thirties, tall, with a steady presence.

“Mr. Lucero.” Chad stopped in front of the desk, his gaze respectful.

“This is Ms. Laylah Stein,” Beckham said, gesturing toward Laylah. “Starting tomorrow, she’ll be joining the executive office. Set it up. Have Taylor show her the ropes.”

Chad’s eyes shifted to Laylah. A flicker of scrutiny crossed his eyes, barely noticeable, but his face stayed respectful. “Yes, Mr. Lucero. Ms. Stein, what time works for you tomorrow?”

“Is nine o’clock okay?” Laylah stood up and gave Chad a small nod. “Thank you, Mr. Reese.”

“Not a problem,” Chad said. “Tomorrow at nine, I’ll have Taylor wait for you in the lobby.”

“Thank you.”

Chad turned back to Beckham. “Is there anything else, Mr. Lucero?”

“No. That’s all.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chad turned and left, pulling the door shut behind him.

The office was left with just Beckham and Laylah again.

She walked over to the desk and looked at him, gratitude filling her eyes. “Beckham, thank you so much. I know this might not be the best time to ask, but I…”

“It’s fine.” Beckham cut her off, his voice tired. “Go home for now. Be here on time tomorrow.”

Laylah nodded but didn’t leave right away. She hesitated, then asked softly, “Beckham… do you want to pick up Ricardo together? Your mother took him to his early learning class. She said it ends at 5:30 PM.”

Beckham glanced at his watch; it was 4:50 PM.

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He was quiet for a few seconds. Celia’s words flashed through his mind. “Tomorrow, 9:00 AM. The courthouse.

That restless irritation crept back up his chest.

“Fine,” he said, standing up and grabbing his suit jacket. “Give me a minute. I need to finish this file.”

“Okay. Take your time.” Laylah said gently as she sat back down on the couch.

Beckham sat back at his desk and opened a file, but he couldn’t read a single word.

Laylah sat quietly on the couch, her gaze fixed on the city skyline outside the window. The sun was setting, painting the glass towers gold.

In the brief moment when Beckham lowered his head to look at the file, the corner of her mouth curled up, just barely.

It was such a small movement, so light it could have been a trick of the eye. But the flash in her eyes gave

her away.

‘It worked. The first step worked,’ Laylah thought triumphantly.

She lowered her eyes again, slipping back into that soft, obedient mask. Her fingers brushed lightly over her lower stomach. It was still flat, but a new life was growing inside her.

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