Abi's POV

Who am I fooling? Life seems to harbor a deep resentment towards me. First, I lost my parents. Then, I found myself utterly alone. And to top it all off, I'm married to Maverick Turner, for heaven's sake!

Don't get me wrong. Maverick is an attractive man, especially when he's dressed in his suit. He exudes a certain magnetic appeal, but he despises my very existence.

Before my parents passed away, they made a promise that I would marry their best friend's son once I turned 22. Unfortunately, I lost them when I was only 20, and being their only child, I was left with no one. Yes, you heard it right. No one else is present in my life. No cousins, no grandparents, no aunts or uncles. It's just me.

Well, at least, that's what I know. Let me explain why.

When my father married my mother, his family vehemently disapproved of her. My paternal grandparents held a strong dislike for my mother, going as far as to oppose their union. When my father defied their wishes and eloped with my mother, they disowned him. Since then, my mother's family has become the only family my father had.

Sadly, my maternal grandparents passed away when I was 15. My mother had only one brother, who also passed away at a young age. So, I no longer have an uncle. As for my mother's extended family, well, I'm not aware of their existence. I have never met them or heard my mother mention them, except for her parents and one beloved aunt who passed away many years ago. My mother came from a small family, so technically, I am left with no one.

Perhaps one day, I will have the opportunity to meet my mother's relatives or even connect with my paternal grandparents? Only time will tell what the future holds.

Fortunately for me, Maverick's parents are incredible, kind-hearted people. I first met them a month before my parents' passing during a family gathering, though they claim I met Maverick when I was younger. Unfortunately, I have no recollection of that encounter.

After my parents' demise, Maverick's parents gladly took me under their wing, knowing I had no one else. Brooklyn, Maverick's mother, happens to be an obstetrician who assisted in delivering me into this world. That was the day my parents and Brooklyn's family became friends. Landon, Maverick's father, is a pediatric doctor.

You may wonder why Maverick himself isn't a doctor or involved in the medical field. Well, Maverick's grandfather built a successful company and was its CEO until his passing when Maverick was only 16. Due to Landon's medical background, the position was passed down to Maverick. However, Maverick never had a genuine interest in pursuing a medical education. Thus, when he turned 22, he assumed control of the company.

Two years after my parents' death, I married Maverick. Let me be honest; it wasn't the wedding I had envisioned. Even though our marriage felt somewhat coerced, I was determined to give it a chance. Unfortunately, Maverick didn't share the same sentiment. He still despises me and barely acknowledges my existence. Our wedding was painfully awkward. He showed no emotion as I walked down the aisle, and his happiness was nowhere to be found. Our first kiss as husband and wife lasted a mere two seconds.

We never went on a honeymoon, never experienced any romantic moments together, and don't even sleep in the same room. Two days after our wedding, he returned to work, consumed by his busy schedule. As a mere high school graduate, I couldn't find a job due to my lack of qualifications.

Being the CEO's wife is far from easy. Maverick attends numerous events, and I am expected to accompany him as his wife. We attend such functions at least once a week. Publicly, we must act as though we are madly in love, holding hands and sharing kisses, all while he despises every fiber of my being.

It has been six months since our wedding, and nothing has managed to break down the impenetrable wall between us. He remains cold and barely spares me a glance. In his eyes, I am practically invisible. I've tried to maintain a civil relationship, to play the role of his wife, but he continues to ignore me.

I guess he truly hates me with every ounce of his being, assuming he even possesses a heart.

"Move, will you?" Maverick's irritated voice jolted me back to reality as he stood behind me, visibly annoyed that I was blocking his path.

Quickly, I stepped aside. "Sorry."

He didn't utter a word as he opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of juice. This was the first time in a while that he had spoken to me. Yes, he had been ignoring me for countless days.

I gazed at him, studying his tired and stressed features, likely the result of his demanding work. Yet, I couldn't help but find him captivating. How could someone who appeared so burdened manage to retain such allure?

Sensing my gaze upon him, his eyes met mine, and I swiftly averted my gaze.

Clearing my throat, I spoke up. "I prepared dinner. Would you like to eat now?"

Though our conversations were sparse, I still had a duty to care for him and prepare his meals. After all, I am his wife.

"I won't be staying long. I have to leave again," he replied, his gaze avoiding mine.

Confusion knitted my brows. "Again? Where are you off to?"

"Work," he answered curtly.

I sighed and poured myself a glass of juice, taking a sip. It had been four consecutive nights that he hadn't joined me for dinner.

"But it's already 7. Don't you want to rest, at least?" I inquired, observing him as he absentmindedly ran his hand through his hair. Despite everything, he looked remarkably handsome.

"I have better things to do," I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes. It was the most absurd statement I had ever heard. Who rejects the idea of rest? Well, apparently, he does.

"You're overworking yourself. Can't you see how exhausted you look right now? Taking care of your health should take precedence over work," I said, my voice tinged with concern.

"I didn't ask for your care," he snapped, annoyance flickering in his eyes as he finally glanced at me.

My frown deepened. Despite the sham of a marriage we were in, I did care for him, at least to some extent. After all, he was my husband—the man I was bound to spend my life with. And perhaps, just maybe, I cared for him more than I should.

"I won't be returning early tonight. Don't bother waiting for me," he uttered coldly before heading off to work, not even sparing a kiss or a peck on the cheek.

I sighed, watching him leave. This kind of life was incredibly dull. I had nothing to occupy my time, and the house remained eerily quiet despite the presence of four live-in maids.

"Are you alright, Ma'am?" Harper, one of the maids, asked as she entered the kitchen.

"I'm fine, Harper. And please, call me Abi. I've told you before," I replied with a small smile.

She returned the smile and joined me in washing the dishes. Harper, a 46-year-old widow, lost her husband just a year after their marriage—twenty-four years ago. She chose not to remarry, drowning in depression after her husband's death and feeling incapable of providing a stable environment for their child. Harper spent eight months in rehab, slowly regaining stability and remorsefully realizing her mistake in giving up her son for adoption. However, by then, her son had already been adopted by another family, and she had no idea of their whereabouts. The last she heard, they had moved to New York. Harper had never met her son again, burdened with constant self-blame for not being able to raise him. It pained me to witness her agony, and I wished I could help somehow. Harper had become a mother figure to me, caring for me and nursing me back to health whenever I fell ill—unlike Maverick, who displayed no care or concern.

"Harper, what time is Bennett coming here tomorrow?" I inquired, breaking the silence.

"Around 6, Ma'am. Mr. Turner has to leave for work at 7," she responded.

I nodded, contemplating my plans. "Alright. Could you please ask Bennett to drive me into town at 10?"

"Of course, Ma'am," she replied, her tone respectful.

I let out a sigh. "Harper, please, call me Abi. I'm not accustomed to this formal lifestyle. I want you to see me as your friend, not as your superior."

I despised being treated like a superior, especially by someone as kind and wonderful as Harper.

She smiled gently. "Abi, you're very different from Mr. Turner' previous wife."

I snapped my head towards her, astonishment etched on my face. "Wait, what? He was married before?"

Why had I not been informed of this earlier? I had been under the impression that Maverick had never been married.

Harper appeared taken aback by my reaction. "Oh, my apologies. I wasn't supposed to mention that."

"No, please, tell me. Was he married before me?" I pressed, my curiosity piqued.

Harper seemed nervous, her voice shaky. "Not exactly married, but he did have a fiancée, someone who was about to become his wife. However, she..." Her words trailed off as she hesitated to continue.

Before Harper could finish her sentence, Maverick walked into the room.

"Harper, could you please fetch my phone from my room?" he hurriedly asked.

Harper nodded in agreement. "Of course, Sir. I'll be right back."

She rushed upstairs, leaving Maverick and me alone. The revelation of Maverick's previous engagement lingered in my mind, leaving me lost in thought. He had been engaged before me, and yet, he hadn't deemed it necessary to inform me? To my knowledge, Brooklyn had insisted that Maverick had never been married. I had spent the past six months of our marriage completely unaware.

"What's the matter with you?" Maverick's voice broke through my reverie, his gaze fixed upon me.

I snapped out of my thoughts, meeting his gaze. Now he decided to speak to me?

"It's nothing that concerns you," I retorted coldly, averting my eyes from his.

He thought he was the only one capable of being cold, but he was mistaken. Two could play at that game.

"Whatever. I won't be coming back tonight," he declared, delivering a blow that stung me deeply.

He wouldn't be coming back tonight? Where would he stay? Would there be another woman by his side? I shouldn't have cared, but he was my husband, and these questions tormented my mind.

"Here's your phone, Sir," Harper returned, holding Maverick's phone in her hand before handing it to him.

"Thank you, Harper. By the way, I won't be returning tonight, so you can lock up after I leave," Maverick stated, showing no interest in bidding me goodbye.

Silence engulfed the room. I had tried to be civil, to care for him, to be a good wife. Yet, he refused to spare me a glance. He despised me, and that would never change.

Maverick's POV

Exhaustion washed over me as I finally returned home the next morning after a long and chaotic night at work. The desire to sleep overwhelmed me, and I was grateful that it was Saturday and I had no work to attend to. Finally, I could rest and take a break from the demanding job.

"Good morning, Mr. Turner. Your breakfast is ready," Harper greeted me as she caught sight of my arrival.

"Call Abi and ask her to join me. I'll go shower first," I instructed, making my way upstairs to my room.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but Mrs. Turner left earlier this morning," Harper informed me, causing me to pause in my tracks. Left? Where had she gone?

I turned around to face Harper. "Do you know where she went?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Sir. She only mentioned that she asked Bennett to drive her to town."

I nodded in acknowledgment. "Alright. Call Bennett and inquire about her whereabouts. Let me know once I'm back."

"Will do, Sir."

I entered my room and began undressing, preparing to take a much-needed shower. As the water cascaded over my body, my thoughts started to wander.

I never imagined finding myself in this situation—forced into a marriage with a stranger to fulfill my parents' wishes. The idea was entirely unreasonable. Two years ago, Abi's parents tragically lost their lives in a horrific accident, and it was on the day of their funeral that I first met her. I must admit, she displayed remarkable resilience. She didn't shed a single tear throughout the funeral proceedings. Instead, she stood stoically by their graves, silently enduring the pain, undoubtedly attempting to maintain composure for the sake of everyone present.

My parents, knowing that she had no other family, willingly took her under their care. Our parents had been close friends, and they saw fit to arrange our marriage. I initially protested the idea, unlike Abi, who simply agreed due to her lack of alternatives.

And now here we were, bound in matrimony, devoid of any love. We entered into this union solely to please our parents, particularly to honor Abi's deceased parents. I had to come to terms with the fact that I had married a stranger, someone I knew nothing about. She wasn't even my type. She remained a stranger, and that's precisely how it would stay.

Abi'S P.O.V

"You can start next Monday if you'd like, Mrs. Turner," Weston said after our interview.

My face lit up with joy. "Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this job means to me," I expressed my gratitude, relieved that I had finally been accepted.

He smiled warmly. "You're very welcome, Mrs. Turner."

"Please, just call me Abi," I insisted.

He chuckled. "Sure thing, Abi." Weston walked me out of his office, bidding me farewell. I headed toward Bennett, waiting for me in the car.

Bennett glanced at me with curiosity. "You seem happy, Ma'am. I'm guessing you got the job?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! And guess what? I can start next week!"

"Congratulations, Ma'am. You deserve it," he complimented.

"Thanks, Bennett!"

As we arrived home, I entered the house with a wide grin plastered across my face. Finally, I had secured a job and could break free from the monotony of this place. I couldn't wait to start working on Monday.

Passing through the living room, I was taken aback to find Maverick sitting on the couch, watching TV. Shouldn't he be at the office? Well, I didn't really care. I was halfway up the stairs when I heard him call my name. I turned to see him standing near the staircase.

"Where were you?" he inquired.

"Wandering," I responded curtly.

"Where?"

"Somewhere."

"Where exactly?" Irritation tinged his voice.

I furrowed my brows. "Why do you want to know?"

"Answer me," he demanded.

Rolling my eyes, I retorted, "Why do you care?" He glared at me, clearly tired of my attitude. "If you must know, I went to town to secure a job. And guess what? I got it!" I cheered, intentionally aiming to annoy him further.

Continuing my ascent up the stairs, I was called out once again.

"A job? Where? And why do you even need a job?" Maverick's questions persisted.

I turned to face him. "You ask a lot of questions, don't you?"

He groaned and advanced towards me, positioning himself a step higher. "Don't play games with me, Abi. Just answer my questions."

Well, hearing my name roll off his tongue sounded surprisingly good. But back to the matter at hand.

"Why do you think I need a job? I want to escape this monotonous existence. I want to work and not be confined to this house, doing nothing," I responded, frustration seeping into my tone.

"You're not working. Quit your job right now," he ordered before heading to his room.

This time, I halted his departure. "Pardon me? I didn't ask for your opinion. My job has nothing to do with you. You're not my boss of mine!"

He remained composed, though his eyes emanated a chilling coldness. "I am your husband. I have control over every aspect of your life. Your job is my concern too. Therefore, you're not taking that job."

My anger flared. "My husband? Since when? Oh, right, only on paper, considering you don't even value this marriage as an honor to my deceased parents!"

I practically yelled at him, surprising not only him but myself as well. He appeared taken aback by my outburst, but he quickly composed himself. I was never one to raise my voice, especially not toward him. However, his mention of our marriage reminded me of my parents.

Attempting to calm my anger, I sighed. "I apologize for raising my voice. I didn't mean to yell at you. But please, I truly need this job. I want to work."

He remained silent, his gaze locked onto mine. For once, my heart skipped a beat. I wasn't accustomed to him staring at me like this.

Finally, he sighed. "Alright, you can work."

Excitement flooded my being. "Really?"

"But only for six months, initially. We'll reassess the situation afterward," he added, still observing me intently. Six months would suffice. As long as I could escape this suffocating house, I didn't mind.

"Now, go before I change my mind," he concluded.

Without a second thought, I rushed to my room, bursting with happiness. For the first time in a while, I felt a genuine sense of joy, knowing that something new was about to unfold in my life.