Chapter 3 Married Life

Isabella returned to the Sales Department office and heard her colleagues discussing the new CEO.

Each one of them seemed to be speaking as if they knew him well, excitedly sharing their opinions.

Martha Paddon noticed Isabella entering and hurriedly came over. "Isabella, you were lucky to be working directly with Mr. Quinn as soon as he came on board."

Isabella gave a faint smile. "We're all here to work. It doesn't matter who we work for. If you think it's good to work for Mr. Quinn, next time when something like that happens, you can ask the manager to send you for it."

Martha hurriedly waved her hand. "Although Mr. Quinn is handsome and charming, his eyes and aura are terrifying. Small fries like us don't dare to get close to him."

At that moment, Vivian Hart, the manager of the Sales Department, entered the office and addressed the team. "Mr. Quinn will come over for a routine inspection in a while. Everyone, go back to your positions and work seriously."

Quinn would be coming for an inspection.

Hearing this news, Isabella's heart raced as she realized she would have to face her new husband in his CEO role. With a deep breath, she tried to calm herself.

The revelation of his true identity still felt unreal, she was not ready to handle it so soon.

The others returned to their seats. Only Isabella stood still. Vivian glanced at her and asked, "Isabella, are you okay?"

"Yes." Isabella snapped back to reality, clenched her fists, hurried back to her seat, and began reviewing the client information on her computer.

Soon after, the elevator chimed, and Quinn appeared again, surrounded by a group of people, standing before Isabella.

Fortunately, Quinn just greeted the department staff, listened to Vivian's brief work report, and then led the team away.

Once Quinn had left, the Sales Department became buzzed again. Even Vivian, usually composed, gossiped with them for a moment.

The only topic was whether this stunningly handsome CEO was married.

Isabella listened silently to their chatter, wondering, ‘If these women find out I’m Quinn's wife, will they come after me?’

The workday eventually dragged to an end, the tense atmosphere lingering until the last moment. Isabella quietly gathered her belongings and got off work after her coworkers had left.

But as she stepped out, a new wave of anxiety washed over her. How was she supposed to face Quinn tonight?

Isabella was puzzled and uncertain. Should she even return to the "home" they shared?

After leaving the office, Isabella instinctively turned right, heading to Entrance B of the Innovation Park subway station. After walking for a while, she remembered that she was now living with her new husband.

Quinn's apartment was not far from Innovation Park. Just three bus stops away, or. about a thirty-minute walk.

Glancing at her watch, Isabella saw it was only five o'clock. Since she had not figure out how to face Quinn, she decided to walk home instead. And she could think about their complicated situation on the way.

Back in the neighborhood, Isabella decided to stop by the supermarket to pick up some vegetables and meat. No matter how overwhelming the day had been, filling stomach was still the priority.

She realized she didn't know what Quinn liked to eat. Reaching for her phone to ask him, she hesitated, worried it would not be a good time for him to answer. After a moment’s pause, she put the phone back.

With groceries in hand, she headed toward home, her thoughts still tangled with uncertainty.

From a distance, Isabella caught sight of a figure that was both unfamiliar and familiar. He stood near the elevator entrance, dressed in a light gray suit, exuding a great charm.

Quinn's posture was well-proportioned. Even from afar, he looked like a scene out of a painting.

Isabella was still a little confused. Why would a man so distinguished—the CEO of a major company—go on a blind date and settle for someone as ordinary as her without hesitation?

"You're back." Isabella approached him, trying to keep her voice as natural as she could manage.

"Yes." Quinn turned to glance at her. His expression remained unchanged, calm and unreadable.

Isabella gave him a slight smile and took her place by his side, unsure of what else to say.

She glanced at Quinn briefly, sensing once again that he seemed a little different, but she couldn't tell why.

Out of the corner of her eye, she stole another look and noticed a subtle detail. He was wearing a pair of gold-framed glasses, making him appear more composed and reserved.

Isabella silently sighed in her heart. Even now, Quinn only said a few more words than when they met for the second time. He was always silent. She wanted to get closer to him, but she did not know how to do that.

And now, after knowing about his shocking identity, Isabella was even more at a loss for how to get closer to him.

Just as she was thinking about it, Quinn suddenly extended his hand to her. Isabella instinctively took a small step back.

"Let me carry it," he said evenly, unfazed by her reflexive reaction. Without waiting for her response, he took the bag from her hand with an air of casual ease.

Isabella felt her cheeks grow warm. He was only helping her with the bag, and yet her mind had overreacted.

Watching Quinn easily lift the heavy bag with one strong hand, a wave of warmth spread through her heart.

For the first time, Isabella allowed herself thought optimistically. ‘Even though there is no love between us and he is the company CEO, perhaps, with time and effort, we can live a good life together."

The two entered the elevator, and no one spoke while it ascended.

Back at home, Quinn put the bags into the kitchen, saying calmly, "I'm not very good at cooking, so I'll have to rely on you tonight."

"Go ahead with your work. Leave the cooking to me." Isabella set down her bag, took off her coat, and tied on her apron.

"Thanks," he said simply.

"You're welcome." Isabella forced a small but unnatural smile.

Despite being married, yet they got along like two strangers.

She took it for granted that a wife should cook for her husband, but Quinn’s detached tone and polite words created an invisible gap between them.

Isabella believed that even though their marriage lacked love, there was no need for such formal politeness between them.

Deciding not to dwell on it, she turned into the kitchen and preparing the ingredients with practiced ease.

After a while, she glimpsed the tall figure lingering by the kitchen doorway from the corner of her eye. Turning around, she asked, "What's the matter?"

"If you need help, just let me know." Quinn stood upright. His tone was as steady as always, yet there was a faint trace of awkwardness beneath the surface.

"It’s fine. Just wait a bit longer. I'll be done soon." Isabella poked her head out to glance at the clock in the living room. It was already 7:30 p.m. He was probably hungry.

She decided to come straight home after work tomorrow and get the meal ready earlier. Then he could eat as soon as he returned.

Regardless of Quinn's identity, this marriage was her choice. She must do her best to build a good married life.