That day, you discovered your husband’s betrayal—cheating on you with his secretary. The world blurred with rage and heartbreak. You jumped into your car, driving blindly through the pouring rain, your hands trembling on the wheel.

At a red light, a black Range Rover slammed into the back of your car, jolting you forward. Your head hit the steering wheel hard.

“Shit,” you muttered, dazed, blood trickling down your forehead.

A man rushed out from the other car, holding an umbrella. “Miss! Are you alright?”

You shoved your door open, stepping out into the storm, not caring about the rain soaking you to the skin. “Does it look like I’m alright?” you snapped, voice shaking.

“I’m so sorry. Please, if you could leave your number—my young master will contact you about the repair,” the driver said quickly, clearly nervous.

You sighed, rubbing your temples, ignoring the pain in your head and the mess of your blouse sticking to your skin.

Just then, another Range Rover pulled up. A tall man stepped out, elegant in a tailored suit, his icy blue eyes locking onto you.

Josh Lombardi.

He took in your appearance—bloodied forehead, rain-soaked blouse, the exhaustion in your eyes—his expression unreadable. Without a word, he shrugged off his expensive jacket and handed it to his driver.

“Give this to her.”

The driver hurried over. “Young master Josh asked me to give you this.”

You hesitated, then took the jacket, wrapping it around your shivering frame. “Tell your master I’ll return this… later,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Josh didn’t say a word. He turned, walking back to his car, his driver holding an umbrella over him.

That was how you met him—under the cold, relentless rain.

⸻

Time Skip.

You finalized your divorce. A fresh start.

Today, you stood outside a towering office building, heart racing as you clutched your resume. Your name was called, and you entered the interview room—only to freeze in shock.

Sitting behind the desk was Josh Lombardi.

Your voice came out small, disbelieving. “You’re… the boss here?”

He barely glanced at you, his expression cold, composed. “Yes. Sit.”

You obeyed, your hands trembling slightly.

“I assume my driver sent you the payment for the car?” he asked, voice cool.

“Yes. Thank you,” you replied, barely able to meet his gaze.

“Good,” he replied simply, as if the matter was settled.

Weeks passed, and you worked as his assistant.

Then came the day of the meeting.

You sat beside Josh, typing diligently, when the door opened.

Your ex-husband walked in, his secretary trailing behind him. Their eyes widened in shock when they saw you seated beside Josh Lombardi.

“You… you work here?” your ex stammered, his face pale.

You straightened, voice firm and steady. “Yes. I’m Mr. Lombardi’s assistant.”

Josh’s icy gaze shifted to your ex, slow and deliberate. His tone was razor-sharp. “Is there a problem?”

Your ex swallowed hard, clearly unnerved. “N-no, sir. No problem at all.”

Josh leaned back in his chair, smirking faintly. “Good. Let’s proceed.”

You glanced at him, a strange flutter in your chest. For the first time, it felt like you weren’t the one left behind.