Unveiling the Wife
The moment Celeste stepped into the VVIP room, the air shifted.
Conversations halted. Laughter died.
Heads turned. Eyes widened.
She stood there, completely unbothered by the attention she commanded.
The dim lights of the bar traced over her bare legs, the short shorts she had carelessly thrown on only amplifying their smoothness.
The oversized hoodie hung loose over her frame, but it failed to hide the natural curves that had once driven a certain man in this room to madness.
But it wasn't just her body that drew their attention.
It was the contradiction of it all.
The messy bun with loose strands softening her face. The square glasses perched on her delicate nose, giving her an air of casual innocence. No makeup. No effort.
And still—she was breathtaking.
A sharp contrast to Emily, who sat beside Adrian, dressed to perfection, every detail meticulously chosen to be alluring.
Celeste barely spared her a glance.
Instead, her gaze landed on him.
Adrian Sinclair.
He was lounging on the plush sofa, one arm resting lazily on the backrest, his whiskey glass half-forgotten in his grip. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—the same dark, piercing gaze that had once stripped her bare—burned into her.
And yet, she didn't falter.
She expected this. Expected her husband to be here with another woman.
But what she didn't expect was the sudden chorus of laughter and whistles.
Mockery.
"Damn, Adrian, since when did you start hiring female secretaries?" one of his so-called friends sneered, eyes dragging over Celeste with shameless approval.
Adrian's jaw tightened.
Another man smirked, swirling his drink. "Didn't you use to avoid hiring women because your wife would throw a fit?"
More chuckles.
Ethan stiffened beside Adrian. His fingers curled into a fist. Morons.
"She's hotter than your wife, though," someone else chimed in. "Better keep an eye on her before she seduces you. Especially now that Emily's gonna be the next Mrs. Sinclair."
A heartbeat of silence.
Then—a soft laugh.
From Celeste.
It was light. Effortless. As if nothing in this room could touch her.
Adrian was expecting a glare. A retort. A sharp, cutting remark.
But instead—nothing.
She wasn't angry. She wasn't even amused.
She was simply... indifferent.
And somehow, that was worse.
Then—a sharp, violent sound.
Adrian's whiskey glass slammed onto the table.
The room froze.
His voice was like a blade, slicing through the air. Cold. Dangerous. Unforgiving.
"Enough."
No one moved.
Adrian stood slowly, his presence commanding. Lethal. His eyes burned into each man in the room before finally settling on Celeste.
"She's my wife."
Silence.
The tension crackled.
Every single person stiffened. Even Emily's poised expression faltered.
Ethan exhaled through his nose. Idiots.
But Celeste?
She remained unmoved.
Not even a flicker of surprise crossed her face.
She simply smiled. Polite. Detached. Unbothered.
"Well, this was entertaining."
With that, she turned on her heel.
Before anyone could react, Ethan grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the exit.
"Come on," he muttered.
Once outside, he let go and ran a hand down his face.
"I'm sorry about them. They didn't know. Don't take it to heart."
Celeste let out a soft chuckle. Not bitter. Not sad. Just... amused.
"Why would I? It's not like they were wrong."
Ethan blinked.
This time, he really looked at her.
He had known Celeste for so long. Watched her cling to Adrian like a shadow, always desperate for even the smallest bit of attention.
But this woman in front of him?
She wasn't the same.
She wasn't hiding heartbreak behind a forced smile.
She wasn't hoping—praying—that Adrian would rush after her, that he'd defend her honor.
No.
Celeste was truly, completely unbothered.
And that realization made Ethan pause.
Because somehow—this version of Celeste?
She was far more dangerous.
He opened his mouth to say something, but—
The door to the VVIP room swung open.
And Adrian stormed out.
His eyes were lethal.
And they were locked onto one thing.
Ethan's hand.
Which was still lightly touching Celeste's wrist.
Adrian's voice was low. Dark. Ice-cold.
"Are you enjoying holding my wife's hand?"
Ethan immediately let go. "Relax, man."
Celeste rolled her eyes.
Adrian's gaze snapped to her.
Something burned there.
A war he refused to acknowledge. A battle he refused to lose.
But before he could speak, Celeste smiled sweetly.
"Shall we go, boss?"
Adrian's fingers curled into fists.
His jaw clenched.
He couldn't believe it.
She was the one walking away from him.