From Neglected Wife to CEO’s Obsession novel Chapter 78

I burst out laughing when I saw the words “pure and innocent” on my screen. Honestly, the way he pretended not to know what was going on had gotten so old it was practically rotting. But really, what else could I expect? When someone’s been rotten to the core for so long, the stink just comes with the territory.

I didn’t want to ruin my appetite, so I ignored him, unpinned our chat, and pinned Elliot’s instead. Love might sour, lovers even more so, but at least work never lets me down.

With a new project about to kick off, I’d be in close contact with the big boss for a while. Having his chat pinned just made things easier—and let’s be honest, it was also a sign of respect.

Right then, Elliot messaged me: Company perk, no rent.

Was our company always this generous?

Before I could decide how to reply, another message popped up: What are you doing? Watch your wrist.

I snapped a photo of my fresh pot of borscht, some chilled cucumber salad, and a steaming bowl of rice. Sent it with: Thanks for checking in, boss. I’ll be careful.

Boss: Looks tasty.

Me: I’m a decent cook. Next time, if you’re up for it, I’ll make something even better. Hope you’ll give it a try.

Boss: Why wait for next time?

Me: ……

A good employee should know how to take a hint, right?

Me: Today’s meal is pretty basic, but if you don’t mind, I can whip up a couple more veggie dishes. Want to come by for a quick bite?

Boss: I’ll be there in half an hour. Your wrist is hurt. I’ll send Marian to help.

Me: No need, really. I’ve got it.

He didn’t reply.

Someone like Elliot, born into luxury, is used to everything being perfect.

I thought he’d turn his nose up at borscht, thinking it was too plain, but he surprised me. He had two bowls, ate tons of veggies, and polished off two helpings of rice.

He ate fast, but every move was so elegant. You could just tell he was raised right.

Every time he reached for a dish, the muscles in his arms flexed—smooth and strong, impossible not to notice.

I kept my head down, busy with my food, while Marian and Elliot chatted a bit. The way they talked, it was obvious they were closer than just boss and assistant.

Maybe because I was so quiet, Elliot finally turned to me and asked, “I heard the Greenwoods are an old scholarly family. Do you have that rule about no talking at meals or before bed?”

Yeah, right.

“Oh, not at all. I’m just starving. Haven’t had a proper meal in two days. Marian’s cooking smells so good I forgot to talk.”