4

"What was that for?" I blushed as I touched the spot his lips were on.

"Is there anything wrong with a husband kissing his wife? Remember we're supposed to be acting like a couple in love." Gordon whispered seductively in my ear. "Or did you want me to kiss you on your lips instead?"

"No!" I squeaked as I stumbled away from him. My face was as bright red as a tomato.

"You're just too cute for your own good." He chuckled and left.

"It's so strange seeing the boss being so love-struck. I thought he could never be anything other than cold and bossy." Bethany giggled, and the other mumbled agreement.

"Cold? That doesn't sound like Gordon." I muttered, but unfortunately she heard me.

"Really cold. And very, very intimidating too. Everyone fears him because he acts like he can see into your soul and use your deepest, darkest secret against you." She replied.

"This is the first time ever I'm seeing him smile. Smirk? Yes. But an actual smile? It's kind of scary." One lady said as she held up a sequin dress.

"Right. I think I prefer his usual emotionless and calculative appearance. This looks so foreign." Another replied.

"Honestly, I prefer this. You can't deny that it makes him look more charming and handsome." The third girl giggled, and the rest nodded in agreement.

"Shame on all of you. How dare you talk about Mr Graff like that, especially when his wife is here? Do you want to lose your job?" Bethany scowled.

"We're sorry, Ms Graff." They apologised and quickly bowed at me.

"Ah, no, it's alright. Let's just focus on the task at hand." I said nervously, shocked at the high respect.

"Please have a seat; let's show you our collection." Bethany said as she led me to a couch.

I spent the rest of the morning and some of the noon choosing and wearing different outfits that, at one point, I felt like I was a mannequin. But it was fun. The girls were nice, though I wasn't sure it was because of my status, but it was better than the sneers and mockery I got in my father's house.

When they packed up and left, I tried helping to prepare for the dinner, but Irene wouldn't let the mistress of the house do manual labour, so all I could do was hang around until it was time to get ready.

I was closing my lipstick when someone knocked at my door.

"Come in," I replied, and Gordon did.

His eyes slowly swept over my figure—not in a pervy kind of way but like he was appreciating a beautiful work of art.

"How do I look?" I asked shyly.

"Gorgeous. Absolutely breathtaking." He complimented me, and my cheeks reddened.

"Thank you. But really it's the dress. I honestly feel like it's too beautiful for me." I replied as I brushed the side of my beautiful emerald dress.

"Nonsense. You could dress in a garbage bag, and you'll still rival the beauty of goddesses." He said, and my heart skipped a beat when he kissed my hand.

"You don't have to say all those nice things when we're alone, you know? We don't have to pretend with each other."

He grabbed my waist and pulled me against his broad chest.

"I'm not pretending, Iris. You look divine. Forgive me for saying this, but I'm glad Thomas left you at the altar; he doesn't deserve such a beauty like you. I'm proud to say I'm a lucky man." He chuckled, and my body quivered at how seductive the sound was.

"Uh, are the guests here already?" I cleared my throat as I gently shoved him away. His presence was too distracting.

"Yes." He replied as disappointment flickered in his eyes.

"Ok, let's do this." I turned to the door, but he grabbed my hand.

"Not so fast. We can't have you going out without a ring." He says as he pulled out a ring box from his pocket and gave it to me. I opened it and smiled at the beautiful ring.

"Wow, it's beautiful. This is from Jamal Ador’s winter collection, right?" I asked as I admired it.

"Right. I'm surprised you were able to tell at first glance." He gaped at me.

"I love his works. He and Marlene's designs inspire me a lot. I remember secretly going through their jewellery magazines in my mother's room when I was younger despite being warned not to." I giggled but didn't add the fact that I was beaten anytime I was caught so as not to spoil the mood.

"So you're a designer?"

"Well, sort of. I design for Midas' Touch, my parents’ company, but..."

"But what? Don't tell me they take credit for your work." He joked, and I averted my gaze.

"Did they do that?" He growled.

"I'm not supposed to tell you, but yes." I whispered.

"Were you at least being paid?" He said, and I shook my head.

"So you're telling me your parents have been stealing your designs. For how long?"

"Around seven years. And it's not exactly stealing. I owe them a lot for raising me, so my designs are a way to pay them back. Blair takes the credit while I work in the background."

"That's fucking bullshit. They're cheating you. It's not fair." He snarled.

"I know, but I don't have a choice. I once tried to ask for a little compensation, but they..." I bit my inner cheek as I remembered the slap that followed.

"You have me now. I'll make sure they pay you every cent they owe you." He said softly.

"You'd really do that for me?" I asked as tears gathered in my eyes.

"Of course. You're my wife. Anybody that messes

with you messes with me." He said coldly.