Chapter 1(present)

I WAS about to leave the house when I ran into Zade, who had his arm around a new girl. His brow furrowed slightly when he saw how dressed up I was as I prepared to go out.

"Hey, woman. Where are you going? Meeting with your lover?" Zade asked, frowning. Really? Asking me that? Obviously, I'm going to work!

Wow, the audacity of this man. Lover? Damn, between the two of us, he's the one with a mistress. What a man.

"So, what if I am?" I replied, rolling my eyes at him and was about to continue walking when he suddenly yanked my arm roughly, making me wince in pain.

He let go of the girl and directed his attention toward me, signaling her to go inside. She followed obediently, giving Zade a sultry look. She even subtly stroked his chest. Shameless.

Zade faced me and glared before speaking.

"Don't you dare tarnish my last name with your whoring, Biana," he said sharply, tightening his grip on my arm.

"Idiot. If anyone is staining your precious last name with promiscuity, it's you, not me. You're the one bringing women into this house! Shameless!" I shot back at him. I don't fucking care if my shoulder hurts! This bastard is so infuriating!

He grabbed my chin with his other hand, pressing it forcefully. I smirked at him mockingly, which made his expression darken even more.

"You have no right to care if I bring women into this house or have a mistress, because you're just my wife on paper! Get that through your thick skull!" he snarled, furious. I smiled at him, which soon turned into laughter. I became serious, looking him straight in the eyes. I didn’t care if it pissed him off more or if he tightened his grip on my chin.

"What concern is it of yours if I fool around with other men? What, you're the only one who gets to have a mistress in this relationship? Isn't that unfair? You're right, we're only married on paper. Only on paper. So don't you ever stop me from having an affair, because no matter how you look at it, you're still the first fucking cheater in this relationship. We're only married on paper, so don’t you dare interfere if I decide to fool around with other men or bring them into this house because this is my house too!" I explained at length, resisting his murderous gaze.

"Try it! Try to fucking cheat on me, Biana, and I won't hesitate to fucking kill him! Try it!" he shouted.

He let me go, frustrated, and turned away, following after his girl.

"Such nonsense. Damn, that hurts," I muttered, rubbing my chin and arm. My arm even bruised from how tightly Zade had grabbed it earlier.

I couldn't understand this man; he must be high on drugs.

I decided not to think about it anymore and headed to my car. I might be late for my meeting because of Zade's stupidity.

I drove to the company where I'm currently the CEO.

After just a few minutes, I arrived at the company. I walked confidently down the hallway while the employees greeted me as I passed by, but I didn’t pay them any attention and focused entirely on my path.

When I saw my secretary, I handed her the things I was carrying, keeping only my cellphone.

"Take these to my office. I’m heading straight to the conference room," I instructed. She nodded. I didn’t pay her any more attention and went straight to the conference room, where an architect was about to start a presentation.

I caught them just as they were about to begin. Everyone greeted me and stood up, bowing slightly. I gestured for them to sit.

"Okay, you can start," I ordered Mr. Arden.

He began presenting his designs. So far, his designs looked good.

"And this kind of design is for the master bedroom—" I cut him off.

"No, I don’t like the design. Usually, what married couples want in a bedroom is a place where they can relax and chill after a whole day of work from home or business. It’s not just about the size of the bed; we should also prioritize the design. How can a couple relax if their room’s design is boring? Look at your design: plain white. Everything is white—bed, bedsheets, side tables, etc. It’s all white. There’s no life to it. You should add some colors—curtains, bedsheets. I think gray would suit the furniture better. Also, your side table is missing something. You should add a lamp and, of course, some flowers to make it more beautiful. As for me, being a married woman, my husband and I prefer a relaxing room to relieve stress," I said, walking around the conference room while looking at the architect's presentation and at the same time glancing at those seated around the table. I paused, took a deep breath, and continued, "The curtains should be brown or maybe maroon to make it more aesthetic. You should also put a mini study table. Not just a study table and a king-sized bed. Same goes for the sofa; you should place one, or maybe have them facing each other with a table in between, so if the couple wants to sit and discuss something, they’d be comfortable. You also need to add a bookshelf—not just for design, because sometimes, when a couple has nothing to do, they read books, right? And usually, couples prefer to have a balcony where they can relax in the morning or in the evening while stargazing. That’s all I noticed. So far, the kitchen and other parts of the house design look fine to me. It’s just the master bedroom design that I didn’t like. Overall, your design is good. Just change that master bedroom design." I elaborated. The architect's attention was fixed on me, nodding and listening to my suggestions for changing his design. The board members were also nodding, smiling, or shaking their heads while discussing opinions with each other. "Am I right, everyone?" I asked them, now standing in the middle where the architect was.

I smiled at him and offered my hand. "Your design is good, Mr. Arden. Don’t be nervous; you’re new," I said with a smile. He smiled back and shook my hand. "You’re amazing, ma’am," he complimented me, showing his genuine smile.

After shaking hands with him, I turned to the board members and gestured for them to stand. I adjusted my coat and spoke. "Dismissed," I said.

They began to pack up, including Mr. Arden.

"You’re a very wise woman. You have an amazing ability to analyze. No wonder your company earns billions. I also read that the feedback about this company is excellent. Well deserved. Let’s negotiate again, Mrs. Francelliana," one of the board members said after a few shook my hand and complimented me. I smiled and thanked him.

I walked out of the conference room with my head held high after my last meeting of the day. I was now heading to my office to grab my things. While walking, I felt the urge to pee, so I turned to the restroom.

When I entered a cubicle, I heard two doors open to my left and the sound of water flowing from the sink.

"What kind of boss is Mrs. Francelliana?" asked one of the women. Curious, I listened in on their conversation.

"Ah, her? You know, she’s always serious, especially about business. And did you know that even the most skilled architects, she spots their mistakes? She has two degrees, and she’s incredibly smart, especially in business. She’s amazing. But unlucky in her marriage. Her husband seems okay, but there’s a rumor that he’s a womanizer," another woman’s voice responded. I bet these two are some of my employees. I shook my head as I heard the doors close. I exited the restroom and went to get my things.

The meeting in the conference room was my last meeting for the day. It was already past 3 p.m., almost 4.

I picked up my phone while walking when it suddenly rang. I bet it’s Yvonne.

"Bia! We have a match at five. The loser has to take off their mask. If you don’t show up, we’ll lose," she said.

"Okay, I’ll be there," I replied nonchalantly and ended the call.

I dialed Zade’s number, and after a few rings, he answered.

"YOU’RE INTERRUPTING—"

"I’m not coming home. I have plans. Just get someone to cook for you. Bye," I said.

"Damn—" I didn’t let him finish and ended the call. Then I dialed my secretary’s number. There were only a few employees left in the office since most of them worked only until four o'clock, so I passed by only a few who greeted me.

I told my secretary to send some black clothes to my condo.

"Bia!" I looked at who called me. I was already on my motorcycle, so I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Let me come with you," he said. I shook my head and tossed him my spare helmet, which he caught immediately.

"Hop in," I said, balancing the motorcycle.

He looked like a kid who got what he wanted and smiled as he climbed onto the motorcycle.

"Don’t you fucking ever lay your hands on my body, or I will throw you off," I warned him and started the motorcycle. He held onto the rear part of the motorcycle while continuously cursing.

"Damn it, Bia, slow down! I’m going to die!" he complained.

I ignored him and revved.