You Shine Like the Moon
It was 1 p.m. The office cafeteria buzzed softly with conversations and the clinking of cutlery, sunlight streaming through the large glass windows and spilling golden patterns across the tables. Anya sat in the corner with Hanami and Xiaa, picking idly at her chicken with chopsticks while her mind wandered to the previous day. Hanami spoke animatedly about a new drama series, Xiaa listening quietly, eyes flicking to Anya now and then. Anya's thoughts drifted: Mr. Heartless called me cute… did he really mean it? In her mind, a dream played—a bench in a garden full of flowers, Zain sitting beside her, handing her a bouquet. "Anya, you're cute. I like you, Mrs. Yan," he had said, and she had smiled at his face. Xiaa and Hanami exchanged glances, puzzled. "What's happening?" Hanami whispered, pinching Anya lightly on the cheek. "Drama lover! What are you thinking about?" Anya shook her head, coming back from her daydream. "Nothing… just a scene from the drama," she whispered. Hanami rolled her eyes at Xiaa. "See? She never changes, always lost in her own thoughts."
The sudden vibration of a phone cut through her daydream. The screen flashed—Mr. Heartless Boss. Anya's fork slipped from her fingers. Mr. Heartless Boss? Why now? She answered immediately. A cold, commanding voice came through the receiver, smooth and decisive. "Anya. Stop whatever you're doing and come downstairs. I've sent the car. I'm waiting. Now."
Anya froze. "Sir, but… I'm in the middle of—"
"I said, now. Come." The line went dead.
Her chest tightened. She looked at Hanami, whose eyebrows shot up. "Who was that? You look pale."
Anya pressed her palms together. "Please… it's urgent. If anyone asks, say I went to finalize some notes."
Hanami gave her a skeptical look. "Urgent at lunch? Are you hiding something?"
Avoiding her gaze, Anya grabbed her bag and whispered, "I'll explain later," then hurried out.
Outside, the blazing afternoon sun hit her. A sleek black luxury car gleamed by the gate, sunlight bouncing off its polished surface. The driver stepped out, bowing as he opened the door. Anya hesitated, then slid in.
The car glided through the city streets effortlessly, glass buildings shimmering, neon signs twinkling faintly even under the sun. Her heart raced with each turn. Why did Zain call me suddenly?
Moments later, the car stopped in front of a majestic building. Golden letters spelled YAN STORE.
Anya gasped softly. "This… the largest luxury store of the Yan Empire? I've only seen it from afar… and now I'm here?"
The glass facade glimmered like a palace. Zain stood at the entrance, flawless in a black luxury suit, silky hair glinting in the sunlight. His face was calm, though a trace of impatience lingered in his eyes.
"Come inside, quickly. We're running late." He gripped her hand firmly and pulled her through the grand doors.
Two elegantly dressed hostesses bowed with smiles. "Sir, Madam, welcome." Then one whispered with a giggle, "What a perfect couple—the boss and his wife. Truly made for each other."
Anya froze, cheeks burning. Couple? Wife? She looked at Zain, who showed no reaction, only tightening his hold.
Inside, golden chandeliers fractured sunlight into rainbows, marble floors gleamed, and crystal walls shimmered. Customers paused to glance at Zain's presence.
"I've never seen anything like this…" Anya whispered.
"Don't be shocked. You'll get used to this. Your dressing… is far below standard. You're now the wife of the CEO of the Yan Empire. Standards must change," Zain's cold voice cut through her awe.
Her heart stung as she glanced at her simple office outfit. My clothes may be plain, but they're real. Not like your artificial shine.
Zain handed a VIP card to the receptionist. Immediately, the staff straightened. "Show my wife the outfits I selected," he ordered.
"Wife?" Anya flinched. "Boss… why are we buying clothes here today?"
"Don't question. Just do as I say," he snapped.
Staff brought four luxurious tops and guided Anya to the changing room. Zain sat back on a white velvet sofa, running his fingers through his hair, half-lidded eyes following her as though the world belonged to him.
The first gown was white with golden embroidery, one sleeve cut elegantly. She tried it on, looked in the mirror, and smiled faintly before stepping out. Zain's gaze swept her up and down. "No. Next."
The second outfit was sleeveless. She emerged, and Zain accidentally spilled his water, hastily wiping it off while his eyes never left her. Got it… the wolf is fully captivated.
The third outfit was black, full sleeves, exuding elegance. As she stepped out, the boutique seemed to pause; the crystal lights sparkled against her outfit, customers stopped mid-step. Zain's eyes locked on her, intensity sharpening. He slowly ran his silky hair back, not blinking, watching her completely.
"How… do I look?" she asked, nervous.
"Perfect. That's all," Zain said softly, unwavering.
Electricity ran through her as she quickly looked away. Zain stood, his steps measured, presence commanding, golden chandelier light reflecting off his white suit. Leaning slightly, he murmured, "Now you truly look like my wife, Mrs. Yan."
Anya's heart raced, hands gripping her dress. Just hearing him call me Mrs. Yan… She felt excitement and nerves whirl together.
Zain handed her a sleek black luxury bag with golden accents. "Hold this," he said gently.
"Now… where are we going, boss?" Anya asked, curiosity mingled with nervousness.
"Don't call me boss. Call me… hubby," he replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He took a delicate necklace from his pocket, fastening it around her neck. Anya's heart pounded, Zain's nearness making her acutely aware of every detail. He stood close, commanding attention, all eyes in the salon on them. Staff whispered, clients stole glances, noticing how attentive he was.
Slightly bending, Zain murmured, "Now you truly look perfect, Anya. You fit with me… beautifully."
A pang of doubt ran through her. Am I just a toy? A wife when he wants, pushed away when he doesn't… what does he really want?
Zain took her hand and led her to the car. "Get in," he commanded firmly.
In the car, Anya hesitated. "Where… where exactly are we going?"
"To my father's friend's wife's birthday party," Zain replied evenly.
"Why couldn't you go alone? Why bring me?"
His eyes softened slightly, but his voice remained firm. "I didn't need you, but my father insisted I introduce you to everyone."
Anya turned away, memories of the previous dinner pricking her heart. She inhaled deeply, hiding her emotions. Zain noticed her glance, tilted his head slightly, and whispered, "I may seem heartless… but you will never fully understand me."
Just then, the driver swerved sharply. The sudden motion sent Ana forward, her head colliding with Zain's chest. His arms instinctively tightened around her, protecting her as if shielding her from an accident. Her heart thudded wildly, panic flashing across her face. "I think… I might die today… from a heart attack…" she whispered breathlessly, caught between fear and the unbearable closeness of the man she least understood, yet who held her as if she were his most precious possession.Just then, the driver got the car moving smoothly again, and Zain and Anya remained lost in each other's gaze, their eyes locked as if the world outside didn't exist. The driver chuckled softly from the front seat. "Sorry, sir, there was a truck ahead, so I had to maneuver. Please, you two take your seats properly." Zain straightened his suit, smoothing the creases with a casual flick of his hand, and said without looking at him, "It's fine. Just make sure next time you pay attention."
Anya's heart was still pounding violently in her chest. She pressed her palm lightly against the window, staring at the blur of the city outside, and thought to herself, He protected me like I was something precious to him… like I truly matter to him. Meanwhile, Zain, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve, allowed his mind to wander briefly, I wonder what she is thinking right now… does she realize how much of a fool I might seem?