Chapter 40 Chapter 40
Adele
I was busy with my laundry when I heard the familiar click of my door unlocking downstairs. Only Amelia or Jake had a key, so I already knew who it could be.
I hurried toward the stairs, as I reached the last stair, Amelia emerged from the kitchen, a glass of juice clutched loosely in her hand. She looked exhausted, shoulders slumped, hair slightly disheveled, eyes distant. Without a word, she crossed the living room and dropped onto the nearest couch, sinking into it like the weight of the world had finally caught up to her.
I frowned and walked toward her, folding my arms as I stopped in front of her.
“Wow,” I said softly, studying her face. “You look like someone just dragged you through hell and forgot to apologize.”
She let out a tired sigh, raising the glass to her lips and taking a small sip. “Do I really look that bad?” she muttered.
“Yes,” I said honestly, then softened my tone. “Are you okay, girl?”
She gave a bitter little laugh, shaking her head.
“Well… it’s Maxwell.” I sighed, rolling my eyes slightly. Of course, it’s was her cold, infuriatingly sexy husband, the one who could act like ice one second and still couldn’t keep his eyes off her the next.
“What did he do this time?” I asked, sliding onto the couch beside her.
“Wait.” She stopped me, a flicker of surprise on her face. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home. Today is Monday, why aren’t you at work? Did they fire you?” Her concern was genuine, her voice tight with worry.
I chuckled softly, shaking my head.“No, I have a meeting by noon with a client,” I said, practically bouncing with excitement. “The boss wants me on this because he’s a big shot—a billionaire. If this goes well, it will be huge for the company and for my promotion. He gave me some time to prepare and asked that I work from home since my place is closer to the client’s office.”
She nodded slowly, watching me, and I nudged her gently. “Come on, now it’s your turn. Tell me what happened with your husband.”
As Amelia started narrating the entire scenario, her frustration grew with every word. By the time she finished, she was already pacing around my living room, fists clenched, face tight with anger.
“Can you imagine? He reduced me… to a secretary. A fucking secretary!” she yelled, her voice echoing off the walls.
“Calm down, Mels,” I said, standing and walking toward her. I placed my hands lightly on her shoulders, trying to steady her. “Listen, I know Maxwell probably said it just to get under your skin but honestly, I think this could actually be a smart move. You shouldn’t be worried as long as he promises to hand your company back to you, you will come out ahead.”
“How about working as his secretary? Such humiliation,” Amelia said, her voice trembling, tears brimming in her eyes. “What if someone who knows me sees me working for him? They will mock me.”
“Come on,” I said, leaning closer, trying to lighten the tension. “I know it’s hard, but who cares what anyone thinks?”
She gave me a hard stare, her frustration clear. “Seriously,” I continued, wiggling my eyebrows teasingly, “you are working under your husband. See it as a chance to learn from him.
"You are learning from the world’s richest entrepreneur. I am willing to bet he will flush out everyone against you in that company before you even get your seat back.”
She chewed on her lip, thinking it over. “You are right but it’s not easy. You don’t understand the humiliation that comes with this,” she admitted quietly.
I winked at her. “I trust you, Amelia. You are not the type to go down without a fight. I know you are going to make him question his own reason for hiring you.”
Her lips curved into a smug little smile, and I couldn’t help but grin back. I knew sooner or later, Maxwell would regret employing her. He was about to find out that every ounce of control he thought he had over her would be tested.
Amelia walked back to the couch and sank into it with a dramatic sigh. “Did you later…..” I started, holding my hands to my mouth as if I were sucking something.
She shot me a weird look. “Of course I didn’t. That’s downgrading,” she said, frowning.
“It wasn’t downgrading when you guys locked the manager of that club outside his own office and were…” I trailed off, scratching my head and letting my imagination fill in the rest.
Her purse flew at me mid-laugh. “Shut the fuck up!” she snapped. “What time is your meeting?”
I grabbed her phone from the couch and checked the screen. “Just an hour and thirty minutes. I better go get ready. Are you still around?” I asked, heading back upstairs.
“Of course,” she replied with a grin. “I wasn’t here to visit you, anyway. I came to find some peace and quiet, didn’t expect your noisy ass to still be at home.”
“Fuck you,” I said, tossing her a middle finger before heading upstairs to get ready for my meeting.
Today, my team had to pitch a growth strategy to a successful fintech founder, a man looking to expand his products among Gen Z and Millennial audiences. My goal was clear, show how targeted, trust-driven marketing could modernize his brand, boost adoption, and drive long-term revenue. I needed to impress, and I couldn’t afford a single mistake.
I got dressed in a knee-length black pencil skirt and a nude cowl-neck top, paired with sleek black heels. My blonde hair was neatly pinned up, and I grabbed my bag before heading back downstairs.
The moment Amelia saw me, she whistled. “Girl, you are on fire! And those shoes, I am stealing them,” she said, her eyes practically sparkling.
I laughed, shaking my head. “You have a trillionaire husband who can buy you a hundred pairs of these, girl. I just have to make sure I do everything perfectly today so this meeting actually goes well.”
Amelia smirked, clearly amused, and I felt a surge of determination. Today was my day to shine.
I grabbed my car keys from the table, glancing at Amelia. “I have to head to the office after the meeting to drop off a report,” I said, trying to sound casual but feeling the familiar flutter of nerves. “I might be back late you still gonna be here?”
“Might even spend the night,” she replied with a mischievous grin, kicking her legs lazily across the couch. I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at her antics. I leaned down to give her a quick kiss goodbye and started toward the door.
I slid into the driver’s seat, pressed the ignition, and nothing. My stomach sank as I tried again. Dead. The dashboard lights didn’t even flicker.
“Perfect,” I muttered under my breath. “Just what I needed, running late and my car refusing to cooperate.”
I stomped back inside, frustration bubbling. “Can you please drive me to the interview?” I asked, trying to sound calm despite my racing heart. “My car isn’t starting, and well, you are a very crazy driver, but somehow I trust you more than this heap.”
Amelia grinned, crossing her arms. “Okay, but not for free. You’re taking me out after this,” she said, raising one eyebrow.
I gave her a dramatic pout, rolling my eyes. “Fine, deal.”
She smirked, clearly enjoying herself. “Honestly, I can manage being your driver rather than that man’s secretary. Feels way less humiliating,” she teased.
We got on the road and soon we pulled up in front of Blackthorn Empire, a towering skyscraper of glass and steel, Amelia patted my shoulder. “Good luck, girl. Go get ’em.”
I gave her a grateful smile and stepped out, my heels clicking against the polished pavement. Inside, the lobby was immaculate, every surface gleaming, the receptionist’s glare met me the moment I walked up to the desk. She didn’t offer a smile, just an appraisal sharp enough to make my stomach twist.
“Good morning, ma’am,” I said, straightening my posture and forcing confidence into my voice. “I’m here to see Mr. Blackthorn. I have an appointment with him at twelve.”
The receptionist frowned at me, as if I had interrupted some sacred ritual she was performing. “You have just five minutes to make it to the top floor,” she said, her voice clipped and impatient. “If not, Mr. Blackthorn will leave, and you won’t get another chance for at least a month.”
I barely had time to nod before I hurried toward the elevator, I couldn’t help but glance around.
The building was immaculate, modern, sophisticated, and drenched in subtle luxury.
By the time the elevator dinged and the doors opened onto the top floor, I sprinted down the hallway, taking care not to stumble in my heels, and finally arrived at the CEO’s office at 11:57.
I met the secretary, poised and efficient, who knocked lightly on the CEO's door. A deep, commanding voice called, “Come in.”
I stepped inside, ready to face a man I imagined would be older, perhaps even intimidating in the traditional CEO way. But I froze, sitting behind the massive, polished desk was Rafe.
Author's note: Rafe×Adele