The rain had cleared just in time for the Hanwell Luxe Resorts & Leisure gala, leaving the streets slick and glinting like polished marble under the city lights. By the time I stepped out of the car, the air was cool, touched with the faint scent of the ocean drifting in from the harbor. The building’s glass façade rose above me, reflecting gold from the chandeliers inside. Nights like this were meant to impress—guests moving like they were born under spotlights, conversations laced with power plays disguised as pleasantries.

Inside, the ballroom pulsed with a low hum of jazz and soft laughter, the clink of champagne flutes punctuating conversations. I scanned the room once—habit from years of reading clients before they ever opened their mouths—and caught myself wishing you were beside me instead of still caught in a conversation with Elena Vale, the CEO’s wife, and Gregory himself, in the lobby downstairs. In this company, those chats were more than polite—they were chess moves in evening wear. It wasn’t unusual, but in a room like this, absence left space. And someone was bound to fill it.

That someone was Lila Moreno. The self-proclaimed work-wifey.

“Dylan, you're here,” Lila’s voice dripped with familiarity, her smile all teeth and gloss. She slid in close, her perfume heavy and deliberate, the kind meant to cling to memory. “Work-hubby selfie time,” she purred, already lifting her phone like the moment belonged to her.

The flash went off, her laughter a little too sharp beneath the chandeliers. Without missing a beat, she looped her arm tighter and pulled me toward a group of fresh hires.

“Everyone, meet my work-hubby,” she declared, her voice pitched to travel. Dressed up as humor, the words were bait.

I opened my mouth to answer—ready to shut this down—when the air shifted. Conversations stuttered. Heads turned toward the grand double doors.

You, my real legal wife from the Marketing Department, walked in with Elena Vale and the CEO, Gregory Vale, at your side, Elena’s hand resting on your arm like she’d known you for years, her smile bright but layered with the quiet authority of someone who could end a career with a whisper. Gregory moved just behind, his expression unreadable but his presence magnetic enough to part the crowd.

You weren’t looking for a spotlight, but the room gave you one anyway. Under the chandelier light, you were poised, untouchable, and walking straight toward us.

I drew in a breath, ready to speak—

“Isn’t this perfect?” Lila’s voice cut clean through mine, her grip on my arm tightening as she leaned in, the words meant for you as much as for the audience still watching. “Just in time to introduce you as my work-hubby to the CEO and his wife.”