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.

Abi's POV

It was my fifth day working at Foster Media, and I could confidently say that I was enjoying my time there. Although I initially struggled, I was getting used to the work. I had also made friends with my coworkers, Addison and Christian. They were in the same department as me and were incredibly nice and friendly.

While we were arranging some papers, Reyna, Mr. Foster's PA, approached Addison. "Addison, the boss is asking for you," she informed her.

Addison nodded and adjusted her hair. "I'll be right there. Thanks, Reyna." She turned to us. "Gotta go, guys. I'll catch up with you later," she said before leaving with Reyna.

Christian rolled his chair closer to mine. "So, what do you think of our boss?"

"What about him?" I replied, curious about his line of questioning.

"He's quite the catch, isn't he? God, I never get tired of looking at that sexy piece of eye candy," Christian remarked, shaking his head.

I raised an eyebrow. "Wait, are you..."

He rolled his eyes. "Ugh, I thought it was obvious, Abi! Yes, I'm gay, and I'm proud of it."

I burst out laughing, earning a glare from Christian. "I'm sorry, Chris. I'm not laughing at you. It's just... I swear I've seen Danielle drooling over you every time she sees you," I managed to say amid my laughter.

Danielle, from the marketing department, had been noticeably infatuated with Christian for the past few days. Anyone who saw her could tell that she had a crush on him.

Christian sighed. "I feel bad for her. She confessed her love for me a few months ago, but I told her I'm not interested in women. She thought I was just trying to let her down gently. She never believed me," he explained.

Poor girl.

During our lunch break, the three of us decided to visit a local coffee shop near the office. After ordering our meals, Christian couldn't resist gushing about how attractive our boss was. I couldn't help but chuckle at his infatuation. Weston Foster was undeniably handsome.

As I scanned the area, my eyes fell upon someone sitting on a nearby couch. The person looked oddly familiar. Then, as he turned his gaze toward me, I recognized his face. Wait, that's my husband! What was he doing here? Just luck, our eyes met, and he appeared surprised to see me. He stood up and approached our table.

"And I swear I could climb him like a..." Christian continued raving about our boss, unaware that my husband had joined us.

"Hey, sweeAbirt. I didn't know you were here," my husband greeted me with a smile, placing a hand on my back. Yes, we pretended to be affectionate in public. It was quite comical, witnessing Maverick play the role of a sweet-talker.

Christian stopped mid-sentence and stared at Maverick, his eyes sparkling. Not again!

"Hey, honey. Meet my friends, Addison and Christian. Guys, this is my husband, Maverick," I introduced them, playing along with our charade.

"Hello," Maverick greeted my friends, then turned to me. "We're going to my parents' house tonight. I'll pick you up at the office."

"Oh, okay," I responded.

He smiled and gave me a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you later," he said before walking away, leaving me pondering his whereabouts.

Silence enveloped us. I suspected that my friends, especially Christian, had no idea that I was married. Well, I had never explicitly told them.

"What the fuck!" Christian suddenly exclaimed after our period of silence. "You never told me you're married to a fucking sex god. Holy shit, is he good in bed?"

I spat out my drink in response to his question, catching him off guard. Christian looked at me, perplexed. If only he knew...

"Chris, it's none of your business to ask that," Addison scolded him, playfully hitting his arm. She turned to me. "Abi, you never told us you were married," she added.

I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry. It must have slipped my mind."

"But seriously, your husband is unbelievably attractive. I think I'm in love with him. It was love at first sight," Christian dreamily confessed.

I rolled my eyes. "He's alright, I guess. And no, Chris, you can't love him. He's married to me," I retorted.

He let out a dramatic sigh. "Unfortunately. Well, I still have hope for our boss, though," he said, earning a chuckle from me. Christian truly was a funny guy.

After lunch, we returned to the office and resumed work. My mind wandered to the evening's plans. It had been a while since I last saw Brooklyn and Landon; I believe it was on our wedding day. I couldn't help but wonder what would transpire tonight.

Finally, it was 6 PM, and everyone left the office to go home. I stood in front of the building, waiting for Maverick to pick me up. Usually, Bennett, our driver, would handle the task, but Maverick insisted on picking me up today.

15 minutes had passed, and I was still standing alone in front of the office, waiting for my husband to arrive. Frustration grew within me as I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. After what felt like an eternity, he finally answered my call.

"What?" He snapped in an irritated tone.

"Hello to you too, dear husband," I sarcastically replied, imagining him rolling his eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing really. But didn't you promise to pick me up from my office? Where the hell are you? I've been waiting for 15 minutes, and these heels are killing me!" I ranted, letting my frustrations pour out in one breath.

"Geez, woman, you talk a lot," he sighed with annoyance. I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out, even though he couldn't see me. "About that, I can't pick you up right now. I'm still busy."