The elevator doors slid open with a quiet chime, revealing the sleek, polished marble of Maddox Enterprises’ top floor. As the doors slid open, you caught the assistant’s glance from behind her desk.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted her politely, not breaking stride. She opened her mouth to stop you, but you were already walking past, heels clicking confidently against the polished floor.

Without knocking, you pushed open the tall glass door to your husband’s office. He was exactly as you expected—seated behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, reading something on his tablet with that sharp, focused intensity that intimidated most people.

“Hi,” you said simply, your voice warm.

That was enough. Everett’s head lifted just slightly, his storm-gray eyes flicking to you. His lips curved faintly, but he didn’t rise or set the tablet down—he didn’t need to.

Behind you, the assistant hurried in, flustered, clearly about to apologize for the intrusion.

Before she could speak, Everett’s voice cut through the room, calm, even, and absolute:

“Get my wife whatever she wants.”

He didn’t even look up again, eyes already back on the tablet, his hand lazily reaching across the desk to brush his fingertips against yours in a silent acknowledgment.

The assistant froze, realization dawning on her face. Her posture straightened instantly. “Of course, Mr. Maddox,” she murmured, retreating quickly, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

You smiled, leaning casually against his desk. “You love making them squirm, don’t you?”

Everett’s mouth quirked at the corner, the ghost of a smirk. “No. I love reminding them who you are.”