Ian was stewing in an emotion that was not his own. Something akin to a claw tightened around his chest, limiting his breathing. He grit his teeth and got out of the car. What a wonderful wife!She couldn't even wait till he was out of the car before she hurried along with her guard. A fucking guard. She was nicer to a guard than to her literal source of wealth, he wondered how her thinking was so backwards. Of course, the guard was probably her source of something else. One did not get so happy simply seeing their bodyguard.All his unfounded theories got him angry and he stormed off into his room, not even saying a hello to Louis. He was yet to understand the reason he was so bothered about whatever she chose to do. He didn't want to marry her anyway, he needed to make amends with his intended for getting seduced.He hadn't been in contact with his phone since he had woken up so he got into the room with the intention of getting an already calibrated new one from one of his drawers
Ashley eyed him, trying to find something to nitpick on. But she had been influenced, she wasn't seeing the handsome prickly man that hated everything she did, she was seeing the adorable one that clung fiercely and refused to let go when she just woke up, the supportive one that had offered her extra hands when she suggested to burn her step sister to ashes – it was a riveting conversation that took place shortly after she was informed of the reason Richard wasn't in her life at the moment – and the one that had point blank told her he was in love with her.For the sake of that man that she had known shortly, she would withstand whatever tantrums this one held."C'mere", she said, waving him over. Ian didn't want to go, but his body had responded to the initial command and he knew it would make him look stupid if he stepped back after stepping forward. What had she done to make him so stupidly complacent?As he got to her, she opened her arms and reached up. Ian automatically leaned
Ian was more than a little bit curious about the woman he actually married but he wasn't sure she was a notable enough figure to get her own Wiki page.She had worn a mask getting into the car and told him her identity was not known by the public.He had investigated her when she first became Rita’s friend, but he was curious about what he could find about her in the months they had been seemingly married.First, he would check out new documents, it held more importance than whatever gossip he wanted to draw from the arrangement they had going on.As he scrolled through the files, the veins of frustration in his head grew larger and larger. Where were the important files? Where were the encrypted messages? Instead of the expected folders and files, he found his storage immersed in a mosaic of candid photos – snapshots of his life intertwined with Ashley, his wife.He was determined to not be affected, not until he got his actual documents.His fingers glided across the screen, seeking
Ashley had tossed and turned on the bed. Getting used to sleeping with an octopus was a terrible thing when said octopus wasn’t in the bed. She wondered how he would sleep, the first day she lost her memories was when she found out he couldn’t sleep properly if she wasn’t around. He was too stubborn for his own good.She sighed as she rolled down and padded over to Louis, she liked the man, she remembered him fuzzily. She wanted to know where the library was.“Mr Louis, good evening”, she whispered to the old man elegantly sipping champagne from a flute. Unfazed by her sudden showing up in the middle of the night, he smiled and set the flute on the counter gently before facing her.“Good evening Madam”, he said softly. Ashley smiled back and fidgeted. She didn’t know if he needed to ask permission from Ian first, if he did, she would just go to bed immediately. There was no way he would let her near his library. “May I ask where the library is?”, she asked softly, praying he didn’t h
As Ian stepped into the lit up gallery, he realized that his irritation was unfounded and unnecessary. It wasn’t his gallery anymore at this point, he should rename it to the hall of worshiping his wife.He kept Ashley’s eyes closed and backtracked to the stairs. He had thought the photos on his phone were too much. This was something that archaeologists would discover in five hundred years and declare Ashley as a former queen. She would never let him live this down.He turned around, remembering that the library was still dark and he went to the other part filled with paintings of violence and bloodshed. Great!He looked as though he could only paint three types of things. One, his grandfather’s kind of paintings, two, violence and bloodshed – things he wanted to do to some people that irritated him severely – and three, Ashley.The fact that Ashley was the most popular in terms of amount and quality was something he needed to think about later.“I’m tired of closing my eyes”, Ashley
Ashley reclined on the bed, her legs gently throbbing. She was covered only by a white blanket, Ian had most likely covered her up so she wouldn’t get cold after. Ian had stood up before her and she had no idea where he was, so she decided to check out the bunker. The room, much like Ian’s general tastes, was monochrome and it spoke volumes through its grayscale symphony. Every detail seemed meticulously curated to embody a sense of sleek simplicity.The bedframe boasted clean lines and stark contrasts. Its black frame stood out against crisp white sheets, inviting a sense of tranquility. As Ashley traced her fingers along the smooth surface, she marveled at the precision that went into crafting this seemingly unassuming piece of furniture.The walls were an expanse of unyielding concrete. Splashes of black and white danced in harmony, offering a visual feast that resonated with Ian's avant-garde taste.It felt to her like Ian had dedicated all his energy in making sure the room was a
Ian sat at the head of the large round table, cross legged as he looked at the figures on the projector.The employees were the calmest they had ever been, no matter how harsh Ian was outside the room, he was kinder with nice figures.The first time Ian had commandeered a meeting was a time to remember.In a spacious boardroom adorned with polished mahogany furniture and muted hues, a group of employees gathered, their collective unease tangible in the air. At the heart of their apprehension was Ian, a figure revered and feared for his unforgiving scrutiny during meetings.As the employees settled into their seats, the low hum of anxious whispers reverberated around the room. The subdued lighting seemed to intensify the gravity of the impending assessment. Each individual nervously shuffled papers, stole glances at one another, and exchanged fleeting expressions of concern.Ian, a seasoned executive with a penchant for precision, entered the room with an air of authority that seemed t
A week later,In the opulent embrace of his living room, Ian reclined on a plush sofa, his head finding a comfortable haven in Ashley's lap. The soft glow of ambient lighting cast a warm ambiance, and the room itself seemed to exhale luxury. Ashley's gentle fingers traced soothing patterns through Ian's hair, creating an intimate cocoon within the grandeur of their surroundings.Seated nearby, Yu Zhen held a tablet in his hands. His eyes, framed by an air of quiet determination and pure gloating, scanned the digital pages of a news article. The hushed murmurs of his voice began to narrate the unfolding drama—the arrest of Reid Hills, the shameless father that tried to be Ian's new rival, a pretend tycoon whose empire had crumbled under the weight of illegal activities.As Yu Zhen delved into the details, the living room became a theater of intrigue. Ian, nestled in the comforting warmth of Ashley's lap, listened attentively. It was his plot after all, even though he was more attentive