Chapter 76

“If you ever had the pleasure of getting in bed with me again..." Chase narrowed his cold eyes on hers. “You would be the one to catch fire, and we both know it.”

“I don't think so. You did all the work on the yacht, remember? ”

He frowned.

“Oops! Did I hit some nerves, husband, dear? ”

With that, Chase curled his finger, motioning her into the conference room. People had begun to trickle straight into it with their coffee cups and sleepy eyes. Amaya obeyed, her catlike, limber walk telling him she knew he was looking.

Justin opened the door for them before he walked in.

“Hey, lover boy. How's the honeymoon?" He clapped his back.

“Call me that again if you want a one-way ticket to early retirement,” Chase muttered.

“Mrs. Lover Boy?” He winked at Amaya.

“Lover boy, my ass," she saluted.

They shared a knowing smile. Chase punched him in the face. Internally, of course. His limits were few and far between, but they were there. Besides, Justin had just another fling, the morning show’s latest weather girl—who was thirty, both in age and IQ points—in a Hamptons ceremony that made Harry and Meghan’s royal wedding look like a karaoke evening for a low-budget Jersey Shore bachelorette party. That thing got more news coverage than the North Korea threat.

He shot Justin a don’t-fuck-with-me frown—just to make sure he knew that he knew he’d checked out Amaya’s ass when she walked in—and he pretended not to notice him.

From that point forward, it was the same old, boring meeting. His staff presented him with their ideas for another month before he went back to the farmland and managed his new business.

An hour later, people were leaving the conference room when he jerked his chin towards Amaya. “A word in private.”

“Here?”

“Yes, Einstein.”

She rolled her eyes.

The room had floor-to-ceiling glass walls, exactly what he needed to keep his hands off her. Once they were alone, Chase shut the door and sat down in his seat, linking his fingers together. She straightened, her chin high, watching him closely.

“This can’t happen anymore. We’re done making shows. The honeymoon is over,” Chase motioned between them.

He wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to blow their dirty fucks out of proportion. The last thing he needed was for her to think they were in a real relationship of sorts. He needed to keep his work area efficient and professional.

She clicked her pen, nodding. “Agreed.”

“Anything you need help with?" he gestured downstairs with his finger, but he could see by her flaring blue that this was not the way she interpreted it. “I saw you crying outside this morning.” His lips flattened. “This was not an invitation for a cock-ride.”

Her cheeks pinked. “I fail to see how that is any of your business.”

“My employees are my business, not to mention my wife," he shot back dryly.

“Their performance is, yes. You don’t have to worry about that. I assure you.”

Amaya didn’t have the tools and means to fight him. But other than that, she did a damn good job of standing up to him.

He was getting tired of beating around the bush, so he just gave it to her straight.

“Was the phone call about us?”

She tilted her head back, laughing. “No. There is no us.”

“Quite right.” He stood up, ironing his shirt with his palm. This was good. He could go back to ignoring her from now on. He was about to do just that, marching over to the door.

She stumbled towards her station, keeping her eyes on her shows. A hand snaked behind her, clasping her elbow and spinning her in place. She slapped it away instinctively, thinking it was Chase.

It was Justin, sitting at her desk, his dull eyes zeroing in on her.

“Happy with yourself, Mrs. Johnson? I just saw some heated air between the two of you. Are you okay? Did you tell him?”

She jerked her arm back. “Tell him about what?”

“Come on, Amaya. I know what we are talking about."

“You mean about—I mean, Tommy?" she shivered.

“Yes, do you think it's time you told him about it?” He said with a small smile on his lips. It had been an accident when he stumbled on the DNA resort on Chase table before the man in question could read the result, and Amaya saw him reading it just before their honeymoon. They made a deal that he wouldn't tell Chase just yet, and Amaya begged for him to keep it a secret for now.

“Please, Justin. Let me tell him myself.” Amaya begged and thought, what in the fresh hell did Justin want from me, and did he realise how extremely poorly timed his question was? I couldn’t be happier with myself right now. She thought to herself.

He stood up. Justin, like Chase, was very tall, but he was handsome in the way men who had all the money and time in the world could be. Groomed to be a playboy

Amaya didn’t know why the universe had decided to rain calamities on her today. She just knew the day needed to end before she stabbed someone with her mechanical pen.

“I’ve got my eye on you. I'll give more days, but he deserves to know,” Justin pointed at his eyes with two fingers and poked her arm. Again. She did the only thing she could without actually putting that mechanical pen to use. She bumped her fists against each other twice, giving him the finger Friends-style.

“Did you just…?” Eva pushed off her desk, her chair wheeling backward. She held her Sharpie like a cigarette in her mouth.

“I did.” Amaya cleared my throat. “Please don’t judge me. Living with the fact that I did it in public is punishment enough. But today is not a good day to mess up with me.”

Eva shook her head, her chest vibrating with laughter. “That was totally epic, in a weird, nerdy way. Good work on not stabbing Justin in the eyes, by the way.”

Amaya growled, and her tight expression finally melted into a fake smile.

She got back to her desk and stared at the computer screen reports, chewing on her lower lip and trying not to think about Chase and Tommy. Amaya knew she was being irrational.

“I saw you talking to Justin." A husky voice boomed above my head, and Amaya snapped her gaze up, her blood freezing in her veins.

Her knee-jerk reaction was to apologise profoundly, but then Amaya remembered what had brought this conversation on. Her browns met his blues. She tilted her chin up.

“Nothing interesting.”

“Really? Why is that? What made him whisper in your ears?”

“Seriously? I'm your wife, but yes, we both know it was for a show. I'll do whatever—and talk to whoever—I want, and my favourite finger is the middle one. It makes for very unhappy critics. And a one-week honeymoon and so on stands.”

How has this guy not been assassinated yet? He was a walking, talking personal offence.

He was back to himself.

Back for being an asshole.

The Chase she knew on the yacht was gone. Like the wind. She thought she had kept her mouth shut. She smiled.

We were in a room full of colleagues. There was no way I could tell him what I thought of him and end the day still gainfully employed. But I'm her wife, for heaven sake. How could she allow the bitch to come here? She pondered herself with a frown on her forehead, visible to the rest of the crew, who looked like they were all on edge too. They keep whispering and looking at them like they have a set of bombs on their seats.

“Let’s take this conversation somewhere soundproof,” he ordered.

“Pass. I'm busy.” Amaya gathered some reports she’d printed out earlier and began to highlight the headlines she thought would be of interest to the rest of the team. Hadn’t they agreed their honeymoon was over? It was none of her business that he was an asshole made of stone. Even if it made her want to staple her fist to his face for falling under his charm twice,

“Amaya, if you have a problem, you know you can come to me, right?" he murmured as he sat on her desk, holding her shoulder protectively like he held her on the yacht.

“Yeah!”

“You are my wife. You deserve to know that I'm always here.”

“What are you doing? Why are you so freaking fickle minded?”

He sighed. "Confusing, huh? I don't know, but I'll be busy soon, and we will be back at the farmland. Get yourself sorted.”

“Fine.”

“Amaya, the sooner you realise I don’t use question marks, the easier you’ll adapt there.” Chase turned around, storming towards his office. Amaya followed him because she had to. They went in just as Eva and Justin were coming out of the conference room. Amaya closed the door behind them and leaned against it, his hands in his pockets.

“Fine, I need to talk to you about something,” Amaya narrowed her eyes into slits, giving his hard pecs a shove. He didn’t move from his position against the door. He just stared at her with his bone-chilling indifference. Why was she suddenly angry? She didn't know. She is just being confused and being silly. She thought to herself.

“About what?” he frowned.

“About um—about us,” she lied, she almost told him about Tommy.

“About us?”