A secret between us
It was already seven in the morning.
Anya was still lost in her dreams when a loud knock echoed through the door.
"Mrs. Yan! Mrs. Yan!"
Startled, she sprang up and hurried to open it. There stood Zain—immaculately dressed in a crisp white shirt tucked into deep cream trousers. His hands were buried in his pockets, and that same cold, stern expression carved across his face.
He pointed at his watch, his brows drawn tight.
"Do you even know what time it is? It's already seven. You're not ready, you haven't made breakfast, and at this rate, you'll be late—and drag me down with you. Is that what you want?"
Shame and regret flickered in Anya's eyes. She lowered her head, voice soft.
"I'm sorry… I slept late last night, that's why I woke up late. It won't happen again. I'll take a shower right away and make breakfast."
Zain's tone remained clipped, unyielding.
"Fine. But hurry. I despise being late."
With that, he strode into the living room, settled onto the sofa, and flipped open his laptop with practiced calm.
Anya grabbed her clothes in a rush and scurried into the bathroom. Standing before the mirror, she muttered under her breath, lips twisting in frustration—
"Is this man a human or a wolf? Always snapping at me, always angry…"
She showered quickly, dressed in a gray T-shirt paired with a black shirt and long skirt, tied her hair into a neat ponytail, slipped on her glasses, and dashed toward the kitchen.
But when she arrived, she froze.
Zain was already seated at the dining table, sipping his coffee with quiet authority. Breakfast had been delivered.
"I already ordered breakfast," he said coolly without looking up.
A deep sigh escaped her lips.
"Thank you…"
He ate in silence for a moment, then abruptly set his chopsticks down and narrowed his sharp eyes at her.
"Are you just going to stand there staring at my face? Sit down and eat."
Flustered, Anya pulled out a chair and sat opposite him. Soy milk and steamed buns lay neatly arranged in front of her. For the briefest moment, she caught a softness flickering in his gaze, but she quickly lowered her eyes and ate quietly.
When the meal ended, Zain stood, slipped into his coat, and leaned down toward her.
"It's already seven-thirty. Make sure you reach the office before eight. If you're late, I'll double your workload, Mrs. Yan."
Anya's lips curved into a faint, bitter smile.
"Fine, boss… But if you don't even consider me your wife, why do you insist on calling me Mrs. Yan? It feels strange."
Zain bent closer, eyes locking onto hers. His voice dropped, cold yet deliberate.
"So, it feels strange… when I call you Mrs. Yan?"
The sudden proximity made her throat tighten. A steamed bun caught in her throat, and she began to cough uncontrollably. Without a word, Zain extended a glass of water, his expression unreadable, then walked out of the apartment.
Anya's trembling hands clutched the glass as she drank. Her heart raced. Once composed, she hurried to clean the kitchen—washing dishes, scrubbing the floor. She considered tidying Zain's room but quickly remembered his strict order: Never set foot inside my room.
A glance at the clock made her panic—7:59.
Snatching her office bag, she rushed out, mounted her scooter, and sped toward the office.
At the entrance, she swiped her card and greeted everyone with a practiced smile.
"Good morning."
Inside the elevator, her phone rang. The screen flashed with the name—Cute Little Puppy 🐶.
She answered immediately.
Huan Jing's anxious voice filled her ear.
"Little Cat! Where have you been? No calls, no messages for days… I heard about your uncle's death. Are you okay?"
Anya inhaled deeply.
"Will you let me speak? You've been firing questions nonstop…"
Huan Jing's tone softened but remained firm.
"I'm asking because I care. You know you've been absent from work for a whole week. I won't rest until I see you myself."
A faint smile tugged at Anya's lips.
"I'm in the office elevator right now. Hanging up."
Huan Jing exhaled in relief.
"Alright then."
Moments later, as soon as Anya stepped into the office, Huan Jing rushed forward and hugged her tightly.
"Little Cat! You finally came… I'm so happy to see you."
Anya laughed softly.
"Yes… but I can't breathe."
Both girls burst into laughter. Then Huan Jing's tone gentled.
"I heard about your uncle… Where are you staying now?"
Anya hesitated, then spoke quietly.
"I'm staying in a rented apartment…"
(How could she possibly admit that she now lived under the same roof as her boss… as his wife?)
Without another word, she guided Huan Jing toward her cabin. Setting her bag on the desk, she forced a smile.
"We've always shared everything, but this time… I can't. I'm sorry, Little Puppy."
Huan Jing squeezed her hand.
"Anna… you don't have to act strong in front of me. If you need to cry, then cry."
Anya smiled faintly, eyes softening.
"No… I'm strong, my cute puppy."
The two exchanged quiet smiles—until a surprised voice broke the moment.
"Anya?"
It was Shia, lounging in her cabin nearby. She rubbed her eyes, blinked twice, then gasped.
"Is this a dream? Are you really standing here?"
Huan Jing chuckled.
"No dream, Shia. Anya's really back today."
Shia leapt up and hugged Anya.
"It's been so long! I'm so happy to see you."
Anya smiled, but her thoughts betrayed her calm. Zain left home at seven-thirty… It's already eight-thirty-nine, and he hasn't arrived. Where could he be?
She shook the thought away. Focus on work. Nothing else matters.
Zain secrate enemy
Zain's black luxury car stopped in front of the police station. Slowly, he took off his sunglasses, his face as stone-like as ever, and stepped inside. The policemen immediately stood respectfully and greeted him.
"Good morning, Mr. Yan!"
Zain just tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment and walked straight toward the inspector's office. The inspector was flipping through a thick file. Seeing Zain, he immediately stood up.
"Please, Mr. Yan, have a seat… would you like anything?"
Zain's voice was icy cold. "I don't need anything."
The inspector cleared his throat. "Sir, you called us the day before yesterday to ask about the death of your wife's father. We have discovered some details. The bullet wasn't meant for your father-in-law… it was meant for your father. But unfortunately, your father-in-law was the one who got hit."
Zain's jaw tightened as he absorbed the words. His eyes narrowed into sharp slits.
"That means… someone clearly had a personal vendetta against my family," he muttered.
The officer nodded gravely. "Yes, sir. That's why we need your insight. Did you notice anything unusual around that time—anyone suspicious, or possible enemies?"
Zain's mind raced. His calm, composed exterior masked the storm within. Years of controlled anger and strategic thinking surged forward. He had always known the past was murky, but now the danger had come into sharp focus.
"I'll cooperate," he said finally, his tone flat yet commanding. "But be warned—I don't take this lightly. Whoever was behind this… I will find them."
The officer nodded, scribbling notes. "We'll need you to come to the station later to provide a statement, sir. Any detail, no matter how small, could be crucial."
Zain leaned back in the chair, his dark eyes distant. Images of that day—the chaos, his wife's grief, and his father's narrow escape—flashed before him. A single thought consumed him: justice.
Outside, the wind whistled past the police station. Zain stood, adjusting his coat with precise movements. Every step he took echoed purpose and danger. Today was just the beginning.
"I will uncover the truth," he murmured to himself, a faint shadow of a smirk crossing his face. "And those responsible… will regret ever crossing my wife and my family. If something happens to them, I can give my life for someone… and I can even take someone's life."
At her desk, Anya adjusted her glasses and began noting down design ideas. But soon Mutao, the senior, announced—
"Have you all heard? The boss got married this week."
Shock rippled across the office. He pulled out his phone, showing a news article—Mr. Yan married this week. Zain's photo was everywhere, but no mention of his bride.
"Strange," a girl whispered. "No picture, no name of his wife…"
"Of course," another chimed in, "Boss must have married a celebrity or a business tycoon's daughter. After all, he's rich and handsome."
Shia and Huan Jing slid closer to Anya's desk.
Anya's legs fidgeted nervously under the table. Lost in thought, she was startled when Shia snapped her fingers.
"Miss Anna, where are you lost?"
Anya blinked, covering with a faint smile. Shia continued excitedly—
"I'm just shocked how famous our boss is. Every tiny detail of his life hits the internet."
Huan Jing nodded eagerly.
"And imagine how lucky that girl must be—married to our boss."
Anya's hand slammed against the table, startling them.
"That girl would be the most unlucky in the world."
Both friends stared in disbelief.
"Why do you think so?" Shia asked.
Huan Jing leaned in, curious.
"Yeah, Anna… And isn't it strange? You and the boss were both absent this week, and both returned on the same day. Don't tell me you…"
Anya quickly cut her off, her voice steady but evasive.
"No, nothing like that. It's just… Boss has a terrible temper. I don't think his wife could survive it. As for me, I was absent because of my father's death. The boss's marriage happened in the same week—that's just coincidence. This world is full of coincidences."
Just then, the cabin door opened. Zain's security guard entered, instantly silencing the room. Phones were shoved away, and everyone scrambled back to work. Shia and Huan Jing returned to their seats, while Anya forced herself to look busy.
A moment later, Tiang approached her.
"Anna, the boss is calling you. He needs to see you."
Anya smiled politely.
"I'll be there in two minutes. Just need to check a few designs."
Tiang blinked in disbelief.
"But… he's the boss."
She chuckled lightly.
"I'll come quickly."
He left, shaking his head. Immediately, Huan Jing and Shia rushed back to her.
"What's going on?" Huan Jing whispered. "Why would the boss call you? Did you mess up? Or… is he planning to fire you? You did take such a long leave."
Anya opened her mouth to reply—but at that exact moment, Zain himself entered the office.
The room fell silent. Everyone stood at once, bowing slightly. Anya's heart clenched.
Why is Mr. Heartless here himself?
His commanding voice cut through the air.
"When I call you, you drop everything and come. Tell me, Anna—what's more important? Your work, or…?"
The entire office froze. His piercing gaze locked onto her.
"Follow me. To my cabin."
Swallowing hard, Anya nodded and trailed after him. Glancing back, she caught Huan Jing and Shia with their hands clasped together in mock prayer—
"God, please give our Anna strength today. Save her!"
Suddenly, Zain reached out and seized her hand. Anya's heart skipped. She darted her eyes around—thankfully, no one noticed. Her breath caught as they entered the elevator.
He pressed the button for the 17th floor.
The elevator hummed upward in silence.
Anya's heart pounded. She whispered to herself, "Something big is about to happen… and I'm not ready."
Finally, she broke the silence.
"Boss… What you did downstairs was wrong. You can't scold me in front of everyone. I was on my way. You embarrassed me for no reason."
Zain turned his head toward her. Slowly, deliberately, he raised a finger and touched the bridge of her nose.
"Your nose is just fine." His tone was cold, yet an odd gentleness lurked beneath it.
Her eyes widened in anger and disbelief.
"Then what was the point? Why drag me into your cabin like this? What's so important?"
He leaned closer, voice dropping into a low murmur.
"Anya… come to the cabin. I'll explain everything there. This isn't the right place."
The elevator dinged. The doors slid open. Her pulse quickened as dread settled in her chest. What if he fires me? What if this is the end?
Without another word, he guided her to his private cabin.
It was her first time stepping inside. Her eyes widened—everything was sleek, dark, intimidating. Black walls, modern technology, sharp lines—luxurious yet suffocating.
But she barely registered the décor. Zain's gaze was already fixed on her, unreadable and intense.
She lowered her head, stammering.
"Boss… I don't know what mistake I made, but I'm still apologizing. Please, don't fire me. My entire livelihood depends on this job. My husband is a goo—"
She stopped abruptly, correcting herself.
"I mean… my husband is a good man."
Her voice shook. Nervous, she bent down to retrieve her fallen glasses, but before she could, Zain had already stooped, picked them up, and carefully slid them back onto her face.
Her breath caught. Words failed her.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Mrs. Yan… You certainly know how to talk, don't you? Saying things like my husband is a good man." His gaze bore into hers, unrelenting.
"I didn't call you here to fire you. I called you because I have a bigger task for you. One that requires your talent for words."
Confusion clouded her features.
"What… do you mean?"
Zain lifted his phone, speaking calmly.
"My mother called. She wants to talk to you. That's why I brought you here."
Anya blinked in surprise.
"But… I could have spoken to her tonight. I was in the middle of important work."
He exhaled, eyes softening just slightly.
"You know how stubborn my mother can be."
Before she could protest further, he initiated the video call. On the screen appeared Jia Yan and Lian, seated comfortably on a sofa. Their faces lit up with warm smiles.
Anya's expression transformed. Joy spilled across her face as she exclaimed—
"Mom! And my sweet sister-in-law! How are you both?"
Her cheerful tone silenced Zain. He stood aside, watching quietly, though an unfamiliar stirring twisted within him. This girl either fears me or fights me… yet in front of my mother, she smiles so sweetly. Innocent. Childlike. Why does it bother me? This marriage was only to repay Father's debt… nothing more.
On screen, Jia Yan and Amelia (Lian) beamed.
"We're doing very well, dear," Jia said warmly. "And how are you both?"
Amelia's mischievous eyes shifted to Zain, already plotting to tease him.
Jia Yan leaned closer, addressing Anya.
"Child, Zain doesn't trouble you, does he? If he ever does, tell me. I'll straighten him out."
Anya glanced at Zain, then back at Jia with a gentle smile.
"No, Mom… nothing like that."
Zain immediately interjected, frowning.
"Mom! Why do you always assume I trouble her? You have no idea how hard it is for me to tolerate her."