Hearing Helen's response, Emma could only sigh inwardly and accept the assignment. She picked up the folder and walked out.

Once she returned to her desk and flipped open the folder, her brows slightly furrowed. The order came from Hunt Corporation-it was a design job for their president, Ethan, who would be attending a charity gala next month.

So that's what this was. Helen probably heard some rumors about her supposed connection with Ethan and figured she'd be the perfect person for the job. What a way to take advantage of office gossip.

Design something for Ethan? Emma thought of that man's insufferable attitude and-slightly annoyed-grabbed her pencil and jabbed it twice at his name on the paper.

At the same moment, Ethan, who was listening to a report from his team, unexpectedly sneezed twice. Rubbing his nose in confusion, he muttered, "Weird... Am I getting a cold?"

...

Two hours later.

"Ugh, it's boiling out here..."

It was around lunch rush, crazy traffic, so Emma decided not to hail a cab. Instead, she walked in the blazing 28-degree sun for over an hour, trekking from the west side of the city to the towering Hunt Corporation building downtown.

The second she stepped inside the lobby, a wave of cool air hit her, finally easing the heat that had stuck to her skin like glue.

"Hi, I'm Emma, a designer with Daisy Design Studio. I'm here about the outfit for Mr. Hunt for the charity event next month."

At the front desk, Emma kept her tone polite, but the immaculately dressed receptionist just snorted and gave her a dismissive once-over.

"Daisy Design? Our president usually works with Swiss indie designers. When did we start letting just anyone handle his wardrobe?"

Surrounded daily by employees decked in the latest high-end pieces, the receptionist couldn't help but sneer at Emma's simple T-shirt and jeans. After tossing out her comment, she didn't say another word to Emma.

Emma wasn't in the mood to argue with snobs. Without a word, she slung her bag over her shoulder and headed straight for the elevators.

If she remembered right, Ethan's office was on the top floor. No surprise there-he always did love that "king of the mountain" view.

"Ding-" The elevator doors opened. Emma stepped out, passed an empty desk, and without thinking twice, pushed open the frosted glass doors to the inner office.

What she didn't expect was to walk in on a scene straight out of a soap opera.

Right in front of her was a woman in a tight red dress, half perched on a chair by Ethan's massive desk. Her body was practically draped over his thigh, arms snaking behind his waist, her fingers gently tracing him. Her dress had ridden up, baring a pale, smooth thigh.

Things were clearly about to heat up... until Emma barged in.

At the sound of the door creaking open, the woman looked up, irritation flickering on her heavily made-up face.

"Who the hell are you? Ever heard of knocking?"

She finally managed to sneak into the CEO's office today, thinking she'd get a moment alone with him. Nope. Didn't even get started before someone barged in. Just her luck.

That thought had the woman glaring even harder at Emma.

"Sorry to kill the mood, Ethan," Emma said, tone flat but slightly amused as she took in the scene-Ethan sitting there like nothing happened, and the woman next to him clearly pissed off.

"You seriously think you can talk to him like that? Know you're interrupting? Then get lost!" The woman's attitude exploded when Emma kept ignoring her, throwing daggers with her eyes.

Right then, Ethan finally looked up and dropped a cold, single word: "Leave."

The woman perked up instantly, thinking he had her back. She straightened up, smug all over her face.

"Did you hear that? Mr. Hunt told you to leave!"

Emma let out a dry chuckle, half-laughing at herself as she adjusted her bag and turned to go. But then came his voice again-this time sharper, colder.

"I meant you."

Emma froze mid-step. The woman stared at him, shocked, lips parting like she wanted to say something. But when she met his emotionless gaze, she instantly shrank back.

"S-sorry, Mr. Hunt. I'm leaving now."

She snatched her purse and scurried out like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Once the door shut, Emma shifted her eyes back to him. "I'm the designer assigned to handle your clothing order."

"I know."

Ethan looked at her calmly and stood up, brushing off his suit jacket as he moved closer.

"Why didn't you let me know you were coming? I could've sent someone to pick you up."

Emma placed her bag down and gave a short laugh. "Pick me up? If I'd said I was coming, guess I would've missed quite the show."

Regardless of how close they were or weren't, she was still legally his wife. What he'd done today? It crossed a line.

Unaware of her thoughts, Ethan leaned back against his desk, arms folded over his chest, a faint smirk on his face, speaking lightly. "She sat on my lap. I didn't touch her."

"What does that have to do with me?" Emma replied coolly, though the edge in her expression had softened a bit. She dug into her bag, pulling out sketches, tape, and a notepad, laying everything on the desk.

"Alright, Mr. Hunt. Stand over there, arms out. I need your measurements."

"Sure, no problem." He chuckled faintly at the serious look on her face, then moved to where she pointed.

As he got into position, Emma walked over, business-like and focused. "Arms out. Feet together."

At her request, Ethan spread his arms and stood still, his gaze fixed on Emma with a subtle, teasing smile. She was a whole head shorter than him, looking dead serious about the task.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Emma muttered, a little lost on what the smile meant. She circled around to his back with the measuring tape, jotting down his shoulder width, chest, waist, and leg length. Her fingers inevitably brushed against his body a few times, but she didn't let it bother her - work was work, after all, and she always kept it professional.

"Alright, you're good to put your arms down."

As she scribbled the final numbers in her notebook and turned to leave, Ethan suddenly pulled her into a hug.

"Really? Just gonna throw me aside after using me?"

His low, husky voice brushed against her ear, warm breath grazing her skin and sending a strange shiver through her. Her ears were practically tingling.

"Haven't you already got women around you? Why are you suddenly acting all horny with me?" Emma snapped back, trying to ignore her own fluttering heartbeat.

Ethan's smirk widened as he looked at her sharp tongue. "Yeah, but none of them compare to you. You got real talent."

"You-"

Hearing that, Emma's eyes welled up without warning.

"Ethan, don't you think you're a bit too much..."

She shoved at his chest, trying to escape his arms, but her efforts went nowhere. The strength difference was just too obvious; no matter how hard she tried, he didn't budge.

Seeing her cheeks flush with anger and frustration, something twisted inside Ethan's chest. The words were already out; it was too late to take them back. His gaze landed on her face, soft and pink with emotion, and, almost without thinking, he cupped the back of her head and kissed her deep and hard.

Emma was still fuming, running through ways to ditch him and leave, when suddenly his hand was on her neck, and his lips, warm and familiar, were on hers.

She hated his arrogance, hated the things he said... but as that familiar scent wrapped around her, her body betrayed her. Her resistance melted in a heartbeat.

Outside, the breeze was gentle. Sunlight poured in, warm and still.

...

Two hours later - Ethan's office at Hunt Group, in the private lounge.

Emma quietly got dressed, not saying a word. Her pale neck was scattered with red marks, and her reflection in the mirror showed cheeks a little too rosy. She frowned at herself.

"Don't go back to work this afternoon. I'll drive you home."

Ethan was sprawled half-naked on the bed, looking every bit like a beast who had just eaten well and was now lazily licking his paws.

Emma lifted her head at his words. Her face was calm, expression unreadable.

Ethan stared at her silent reaction, unease creeping in. He thought of Michael giving her a ride home not long ago, and his brows furrowed again.

"You said you didn't like the cars at home, right? I ordered you a new one. From now on, just drive yourself."

While talking, Ethan threw off the blanket and got out of bed. His tanned skin stretched over firm muscles that moved with every step.

"From now on, I don't want to hear about anyone 'happening' to give you a ride home. If they try it again, just tell them to buzz off."

He pulled a fresh shirt from the closet and began buttoning it up with practiced ease, his tone casual, but there was no mistaking the warning in his words.

"...Got it."

Emma sighed quietly. Sure, that double standard was annoying-he could flirt around all he wanted, but the second some guy was nice to her, it was a problem. Still, she'd learned by now there was no point arguing with someone as arrogant as him, so she just gave in.

"Alright, let's go."

Fully dressed, Ethan glanced at his watch-it was already 6:00 PM.

...

After they left the office and got in the car, Emma suddenly remembered she'd left her notebook with the measurements back in the office.

"I need to run back up and grab it."

"No problem. I'll wait here," Ethan replied easily, waving his hand. In a surprisingly good mood, he told the driver to wait while he followed behind her.

"Hey, you again? I told you before, not everyone gets to meet Mr. Hunt! I can't believe you snuck up earlier, and now you're back?"

Because Emma had gone down to the garage with Ethan directly, the receptionist hadn't seen her earlier and was now giving her attitude again. Dressed plainly, she didn't exactly look like someone important in the sleek building.

"I..."

Before Emma could say anything, Ethan, who had followed closely behind, already guessed what had just happened.

"She's my wife. And you-you're fired."

With one arm around Emma's waist, Ethan shot the words at the receptionist without even looking at her again.

"Mr... Mr. Hunt?"

The receptionist, all smug just seconds ago, instantly switched faces when she saw Ethan. And when his words sunk in, her expression turned ghostly.

"Y-Your wife? I-I didn't know she was..."

She stammered out an apology, face flushing as she mentally cursed Emma to hell. Dressed like that, who'd ever think she was the president's wife?

"Save it. Tell your manager to find someone who actually knows how to treat people. This kind of attitude? Totally not what Hunt Corporation needs."

Without glancing back to see her reaction-or the nosy stares around the lobby-Ethan kept an arm lightly around Emma as they walked away.

"Was that a little over the top...?" Emma asked hesitantly once they stepped into the elevator.

"What's over the top about holding people accountable? If everyone at our company had her mindset, Hunt Corporation wouldn't even exist today."

Still holding her close, Ethan's fingers lazily brushed the fabric at her waist, his voice calm and steady.

"Alright then."

Emma didn't continue arguing. She knew she had no say in running a company compared to Ethan. Business wasn't her field at all.

But even so, watching him step in and speak up like that... she couldn't help but feel a little vindicated.

After picking up their things, Ethan brought Emma back home.

...

A week later.

At Daisy Design.

Inside the director's office.

"Emma, you really nailed this project. Just got a call from Hunt Group-Mr. Hunt is thinking about signing a huge deal with us. That's all thanks to your hard work."

Helen smiled at Emma, the kind that was all friendly and sweet, even her tone sounded oddly warm.

"It's nothing, Helen. I was just following your instructions."

Emma kept her voice respectful, but she couldn't help the unease stirring inside. Helen's way of attaching value to results over people rubbed her the wrong way.

Still, Helen was her boss. Emma wasn't about to start trouble. She just returned the smile, faint and polite.

Helen, already in her forties and no stranger to the business world, glanced at Emma's delicate features and suddenly paused, something flickering in her eyes. Scheming kicked in.

"By the way, Emma, we might be pulling some late nights at the office soon. Are you okay heading home on your own? Or should we ask your boyfriend to pick you up after work?" she asked, tone casual but clearly fishing.

Emma looked up and replied flatly, "I don't have a boyfriend."

"No boyfriend? Huh, I thought girls your age usually have someone steady by now." Helen pretended to be surprised, eyes narrowing slightly at Emma's soft, fair face.

Emma kept calm. "Yeah, I'm single. If there's any overtime, just let me know. I'm totally good with it."

She'd been in the workforce long enough to know how to respond the smart way. More importantly, things between Ethan and her were complicated, undefined. Considering his background and status, it just made sense not to spill too much.

Saying she was single saved her from a whole lot of unnecessary drama.

"Single, huh? Not bad." Helen nodded approvingly, her sharp eyes gleaming with something calculated.

"Alright, go ahead and get back to work. Don't head home tonight just yet-I'll take you out for coffee. We'll chat a bit about work. Go on."

Helen waved her hand, dismissing her.

"Got it." Emma dipped her head, said nothing more, and turned to leave.

...

At Hunt Group.

President's Office.

"Sir, this is from Daisy Design. It's the latest design proposal for the real estate landmark bid," Andy said, handing over the file.

Taking it, Ethan quickly skimmed through it, then closed it and set it aside.

"Bring me the contract," he said, voice calm but firm, holding out his hand.

Andy paused, slightly thrown off, but pulled out the paper contract from a folder and handed it over."Boss, there are eighteen companies bidding for this project. Are you sure you don't wanna take another look at the other proposals?"

Seeing his boss pull out the pen and get ready to sign, Andy couldn't help but speak up.

"No need to overthink it. Send someone to drop off the contract later."

With a few strokes of the sleek titanium pen, Ethan signed his name and casually handed the file over, tone calm and decisive.

"Got it."

Following him for almost a decade now, Andy could read the room. Watching Ethan make such a firm call, he knew better than to push further. So, he nodded respectfully and quietly walked out.

...

7 p.m.

The Gilded Feather Coffee House, private salon upstairs.

As soon as Emma stepped into the room, she spotted a young man already seated inside. She froze for a second, thinking she might've entered the wrong room and instinctively backed toward the door.

Helen, who had led the way, quickly turned and said, "Emma, come on in! Let me introduce you. This is David Miller, Director at Eastwave Global Tech Group. Born in 1997, you two should have plenty to talk about."

The moment she heard that, combined with Helen's not-so-subtle questions about her relationship status earlier that morning, Emma immediately caught on-this was clearly a setup.

Still, why did the name Eastwave Global sound so familiar?

"Oh, I see. I actually thought I walked into the wrong room for a second."

Facing Helen's beaming smile, Emma could only plaster on a polite one herself and went along without saying more.

The café had a timeless, old-school charm-one of those rare places that seemed untouched by passing trends. Even the back rooms carried that retro spirit, with polished wooden tables and mid-century chairs that glowed with a warm, vintage patina. It was quietly captivating, in a wonderfully nostalgic way.

She set her bag aside and sat by the window. Across from her was the man Helen introduced moments ago-David.

"Hi, Ms. Grace. I'm David," he said with a warm, steady voice that matched his vibe, clean and composed.

Hearing that, Emma instinctively glanced up and gave him a good look.

He looked young, surprisingly so. Sharp features, bright eyes, lean build-the kind of guy plenty of girls probably had a crush on back in high school. But she knew, looks aside, someone landing a director-level role at twenty-eight had to either be impressively capable or backed by a powerful background.

Though Emma had zero intention of turning this into a real blind date, she wasn't about to embarrass Helen. Plus, meeting talented people like this could actually be helpful, professionally speaking.

Even though Helen had probably already told him a good deal about her, Emma still gave a quick, courteous self-introduction.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Emma, Chief Designer at Daisy Design."

As she spoke, David was also quietly sizing her up across the table.