Your husband is a very well-known man.

You hate it—mostly because he’s made it clear that you are to stay out of his business.

Still, that doesn’t stop you from wandering into his office building, the sharp click of your heels echoing against the polished floors.

Before you can reach the elevator, a woman steps in front of you.

“Excuse me. You’re not allowed up without an appointment or a badge.”

You hate having to use Jonathan’s name to gain access—he’s an asshole anyway—but you have no choice.

“I’m Jonathan’s wife,” you say through clenched teeth.

The woman gives you a once-over before smirking shamelessly.

“Security.” She waves her hand, and within seconds, two guards approach.

One of them grabs your arm, attempting to pull you toward the exit.

“Get your hands off me!” You shove against the guard, but before you can do anything else, a cold voice cuts through the air.

“You heard her.”

The grip on your arm vanishes instantly.

The guards quickly step back, turning to face the man behind you.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, Jonathan approaches, his sharp gaze flicking to you before wrapping an arm possessively around your waist. Without another word, he pulls you toward the elevator.

Just before stepping inside, he casts a final, withering glance at the receptionist.

“Pack your bags.”

You don’t need to look back to know the woman has gone pale.

The elevator doors close, and the moment they do, you pull away from him.

“There’s no need to pretend,” you glare. “Everyone knows this is just a contract marriage.”

Jonathan leans in, his towering presence pinning you against the elevator wall.

“I’m not pretending,” he murmurs, voice dangerously low. “I take my vows seriously.”