As expected, Sara was thoroughly conquered.
She hadn't lost weight at all. *When the cat's away, the mice play*—without Adrian around to stress her out, she had actually gained two pounds. The result was a brutal, exhaustive lesson from her husband.
They moved from the bathroom to the bed. Although it was only two rounds, it left Sara so drained she couldn't even lift a finger.
Adrian rarely held back his strength, but physically, she had no complaints. It was the one area where they were perfectly compatible.
The next morning, Sara dragged her sore body out of bed. The man was already sitting at the dining table, eating breakfast with impeccable posture.
His "One That Got Away" had returned, yet he still devoured his wife with such fire the night before. Sara truly hadn't expected it.
He really was a calculating businessman. He wouldn't let his "investment" go to waste.
"You tore my dress last night. That was a limited edition."
Sara had been his assistant for a year and his wife for three. She had learned from the best. As soon as she sat down, she started imitating him—keeping score.
Adrian sliced his food elegantly, not looking up. "What's going on between you and Bella?"
It sounded casual, but it was undoubtedly an interrogation.
Sara stiffened. "Did she complain to you?"
Adrian remained unhurried. "Did you get physical?"
Sara gave an awkward smile. "We just exchanged a few words."
Only then did he lift his head, fixing her with a half-smile that didn't look friendly. "Do you need me to mediate?"
His gentle tone made a chill run down Sara's spine. "No need. We've already talked it out."
Adrian was silent for a few seconds. "So, because of her, you gave me attitude in bed?"
Sharp as a razor, he had instantly deduced the reason for her rejection that night.
Sara knew she had been in the wrong. Taking her anger out on him had been a step too far. His sudden accounting of her sins caught her off guard. Between making excuses and admitting fault, she decisively chose the latter.
"I was wrong."
"Come here." Adrian slowly set down his silverware.
Sara hesitated, then walked over and sat on his lap.
Adrian reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her face was bare of makeup, yet her skin was flawless, delicate enough to break with a touch.
He looked at her with satisfaction, his tone softening. "If something like this happens again, tell me."
Sara felt like she was sitting on pins and needles. "Are you angry?"
"Mrs. Harding performed well last night. Consider your debt paid." His hand rested on her slim waist, his attitude reminiscent of a parent settling a playground dispute. "Tonight, we're going to the old estate for dinner. I'll have Bella apologize to you."
"Dinner is fine, but forget the apology." Sara refused instantly. "It's over. I'm her sister-in-law; I shouldn't be petty and argue with a young girl. There won't be a next time."
The truth was, Sara had already vented her anger that day. By the time she left, Bella had been smashing vases in a rage.
Adrian liked her sensibility. He chuckled low in his throat. "Tell the secretary what you like. I'll have it all delivered to you today."
A reward.
Aside from the black card she could swipe at will, Adrian constantly showered her with luxury goods and jewelry. If it was new and expensive, it would appear on Sara's vanity.
He never shortchanged her on money. But money was the only thing he could give her.
Sara flashed her signature sweet smile. "Thank you, Mr. Harding."
"And?" He leaned back in his chair, waiting.
Sara understood the assignment. She leaned in and planted a feather-light kiss on his cheek.
He patted her head, satisfied, and finally left for work.
Once the tyrant was gone, Sara slumped, feeling as if she'd been granted amnesty.
He wasn't trying to get justice for her; he was clearly protecting his sister. He had questioned Sara without even asking for the full story—proof that he didn't care enough to know the details.
But the look in his eyes when he watched Eva last night still lingered in Sara's mind.
A complexity she had never seen in him before.
Could he really let go of the woman he had loved for seven years?
