Mondays were officially created to punish people. Ava Reynolds was sure of it.
She sat at her tiny desk, staring at the screen like the computer was her personal enemy. Her inbox was screaming with notifications. Every time she clicked delete, two more popped up.
Spam, spam, and more spam.
"Win one million dollars instantly." Delete.
"Meet hot singles in your area." Delete.
"Click here for a miracle weight-loss tea." Delete.
Ava groaned so loud that the old printer in the corner coughed in sympathy.
"Why me? Why always me?" she muttered. "Do I have a sign on my forehead that says—please, spam me until I lose my sanity?"
Her finger was starting to ache from hitting delete when her eyes landed on something glorious.
Unsubscribe Now.
Her tired eyes lit up like she had just found water in the desert. She clutched her chest dramatically. "Finally! Freedom!"
Without thinking, she clicked.
A new page opened. It had way too many words in a font so small that it looked like the ants from her childhood picnic had formed a union and started typing contracts.
"Blah blah blah, terms and conditions…" Ava waved her hand. She wasn't about to read that. Nobody read terms and conditions. Only villains and lawyers did.
So she just scrolled, ticked a few checkboxes, and slammed the submit button like a champion.
She leaned back in her chair, sighing in relief. "That's it. No more fake princes from foreign countries begging me for money, no more lottery scams, no more miracle slimming teas."
Ava felt victorious. She even gave herself a small clap. She had no idea she had just signed something more serious than her entire future.
By afternoon, Ava was back to her regular struggle being the personal assistant to Ethan Blackwood, the most terrifying boss in the city.
Ethan wasn't just a boss. He was a legend. A billionaire at thirty, a man who could make grown investors cry with one look. People called him "Mr. Iceberg" behind his back because he was tall, cold, and very likely to sink ships.
And unfortunately, Ava was the tiny Titanic stuck working under him.
She heard the familiar sound of his shoes before she saw him. Expensive leather against marble floor. Steady, cold, and commanding. Her heart started racing. She looked busy immediately, pretending to type very important things on her screen, even though she was really typing "asdfghjkl" over and over.
Then his deep voice filled the air.
"Miss Reynolds."
Ava froze. Her hands hovered above the keyboard. Slowly, like she was in a horror movie, she turned her head.
Ethan stood in the doorway of her small office. Tall. Sharp suit. Dark hair slicked back like he walked out of a magazine. But his blue eyes weren't cold like usual. They were… amused. Which was somehow worse.
He was holding a piece of paper in his hand. A very official-looking piece of paper.
"Yes… sir?" Ava's voice cracked like a teenager's.
He walked inside, his steps slow and deliberate, and placed the paper right on her desk. Then he leaned against her table, crossing his arms like a judge waiting for a confession.
Ava blinked at the document. Her brain refused to process it at first. She blinked again, harder.
The words hit her like a slap.
Marriage Certificate
Groom: Ethan James Blackwood
Bride: Ava Marie Reynolds
Her signature sat proudly at the bottom like it belonged there.
Ava's soul left her body.
"WHAT WHAT IS THIS?!" she shrieked so loudly that the poor intern outside dropped a tray of coffee.
Ethan tilted his head, watching her like she was a particularly interesting experiment. "According to this," he said calmly, "you and I are legally married."
Ava stared at him in horror. "Married? MARRIED?! I don't even have a boyfriend!"
"Apparently you have a husband now." His lips twitched dangerously, like he was enjoying this way too much.
"No. No, no, no. This can't be real." Ava shoved the paper back at him like it was poisonous. "I didn't sign this! I would remember if I married my boss!"
Ethan raised one eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because HR just received a copy of this. They're currently panicking about whether or not they need to throw us a company celebration."
Ava's brain spun. Images flashed in her head her mom squealing, her coworkers gossiping, tabloids screaming "Billionaire Marries His Secretary in Secret."
"This is a nightmare," she whispered. "I was just trying to unsubscribe from emails."
"What kind of emails?" Ethan asked, suspiciously entertained.
"Spam emails!" she wailed. "Do you think I would marry someone because I was trying to delete spam?! I clicked unsubscribe and then, oh my God. OH MY GOD." Ava slammed her hands on her cheeks. "I married you by typo!"
Outside the office, she heard someone choke on laughter. Oh great, the gossip was already spreading.
Ethan, instead of being horrified like a normal human being, chuckled. A low, dangerous sound.
"Relax, Mrs. Blackwood."
Ava's head snapped up. "Do NOT call me that!"
He ignored her protest, his smirk growing. "It's just a piece of paper. But… why don't we see how long it takes before the entire company believes it?"
Ava almost fainted. "You're kidding me. Please tell me you're kidding me."
But the glint in his eyes said otherwise.
By the time she left the office that evening, the whispers had already started.
"Did you hear? The boss got married."
"To his secretary!"
"They kept it secret!"
"I knew it, I always saw the way he looked at her!"
Ava walked faster, pulling her bag over her shoulder like it was a shield. "Don't panic, Ava. It's just a typo. It'll go away. Nobody is going to believe it."
She turned the corner only to find a delivery guy holding a giant bouquet of roses.
"Delivery for Mrs. Blackwood," he said cheerfully.
Ava screamed.
When she finally got home, she collapsed face-first on her couch. Her cat, Mr. Pickles, sat on her back like a furry paperweight. She grabbed her phone and dialed her best friend, Maddie.
"Maddie," Ava croaked. "I think I accidentally married my boss."
There was silence on the other end. Then a loud snort. Then hysterical laughter.
"This is not funny!" Ava yelled, sitting up and startling Mr. Pickles off the couch. "There was a typo, a certificate, and HR is involved! Do you understand what this means?!"
"It means you're officially a CEO's wife," Maddie teased. "Congrats, girl. Upgrade achieved."
Ava groaned, burying her face in a pillow. "This is my worst nightmare. Tomorrow the whole company will know. By Friday, my mom will be shopping for wedding dresses."
And somewhere across town, Ethan Blackwood was probably sipping expensive wine, laughing about the chaos she had just walked into.