COMMENT
14:47 Wed, Dec 11 G UB
Chapter 3
I find myself working as an assistant to Killian’s personal secretary, Miranda–a mean, two–faced woman who seems to take pleasure in making my life miserable. Miranda’s office is a constant battlefield. She insults my clothes, mocking their simplicity and shaming my work, no matter how hard I try. “Reilly? Is that the best you can do?” she sneers, looking me up and down with hatred. “I expected more from Alpha Killian’s wife. Her words sting, but I grit my teeth and push on.
I can’t afford to break.
She’s one of the few who knows that I was Killian’s unwanted wife. The one who is forced onto him.
But I quickly realized why Killian put me under her. He wanted to keep an eye on me without having to deal with me himself. It’s been a month since I got married to Killian Volkov, who dislikes me as much as I do. We never came across each other and avoided each other like plagues. Now, working for the company, every time I catch a glimpse of him, his cold, gray eyes are filled with hatred. He sees me as nothing more than a gold digger, someone out to steal his wealth and take advantage of his name. It’s clear in the way he avoids looking at me, his contempt is written all over his face.
Despite this, I throw myself into my work. Each day, I do my best to meet Miranda’s impossible expectations. It’s a thankless task, but it’s all I have, I refuse to let their opinions define me. I keep telling myself why I got married to him in the first place. My family depends on me, and I can’t let them down, even though they don’t feel anything towards me. I keep telling myself that 4 have to do this, at least for my grandmother, who has loved me all along
I was sitting in Miranda’s shared office, struggling with the marketing reports she ordered me to make. Miranda loomed over my desk. “Pathetic,” she muttered, deleting it all and smacking me on the back of my head. “Do it again, and this time, try not to waste my time.
“Yes, Miranda,” I reply quietly, starting over without another word.
The hours dragged on, each day blurring into the next. Killian’s presence is a constant shadow over my life. He’s always near, yet always distant. I see him in meetings, his commanding presence filling the room, but he never acknowledges me. It’s as if I’m invisible, a ghost in the background of his life. I returned to the estate using a taxi. Life at Killian’s estate had settled into a lonely, painful routine. Every day was a struggle, but I had grown used to the harshness of my new reality. But then, without warning, everything changed.
One evening, as I returned from another exhausting day at the office, I was met with an unexpected sight. Killian’s family+ his mother and younger sister–had arrived; their presence filled my life with tension and more complications. They hated me. They made it clear on the first day of their arrival. I don’t know what I did to provoke their hatred. His sister, Clair, hates
me even more.
All my life, I was bullied and abused. When I first came here, I thought maybe I wouldn’t be bullied here, but I was so wrong. My heart always ached with pain, waiting for some kind of change in my life. I still remember Clair’s words when she first came to the estate,
“I’ll make sure you don’t take advantage of my brother,” she said coldly, her eyes flashing with hate. “You may have walked into this family, but don’t think for a second that you belong here.” She stepped forward, gripping my wrist hard and digging his fingers into my skin. “Because you don’t.” She added that theciness in her voice sent a shiver down my spine.
They quickly began to verbally abuse me, calling me names and all. They made me work around the house, refusing to let me use any of the luxuries it offered. Cleaning, cooking, running errands–I was given tasks to know my place in the estate, to make me feel that my place was lower than the maid in the house.
Every single night, I pray and beg the moon goddess to free me from all this torment and to help me.
I woke at 4 AM, the darkness of the early morning still filling the estate. After showering and dressing in my usual plain attire, I made my way downstairs and began my tasks alongside the other maids.
The kitchen was already busy with the maids as I entered. The other maids barely acknowledged me, they were too
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14:47 Wed, Dec 11 GUB.
Chapter 3
engrossed in their oven tutics. I set to work preparing breakfast for Clair, who had insisted I serve her personally every morning. It was another one of her many ways to have control per me, a daily reminder of my status.
With the tray in my hands, I made my way to Clair’s room. I knocked lightly before entering, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm toast filling the air, Clair was sitting up in bed, her eyes narrowing as I approached.
“Set it on the table and serve it,” she ordered, her tone hard. I complied, arranging the dishes in front of her in a practiced
manner
Clair took a bite of the toast, her face twisting in disgust. “What is this?” she spat, throwing the toast onto the tray. “Are you trying to poison me?”
Before I could respond, she picked up the cup of coffee and threw it at me. Quickly, I raised my hands to shield my face. The hot liquid fell over my wrists, searing my skin with a burning pain that made me gasp.
“You worthless piece of trash!” Clair screamed, her voice laced with venom. “Can’t you do anything right?”
Tears stung my eyes, both from the pain and the humiliation. I bit my lip, refusing to let her see me cry. Im sorry.” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I’ll make another breakfast
“Don’t bother,” she snapped. “Just get out of my sight”
I backed out of the room, clutching my burnt wrists, the pain throbbing. As soon as I was out of Clair’s sight, I hurried to the kitchen, where one of the older maids, Greta, took one look at me and shook her head,
“Come here, child,” she said gently, guiding me to the sink. She ran cool water over my burns; the relief was almost immediate, “You need to be more careful.”
I nodded, too choked up to speak. Greta wrapped my wrists in a cool cloth, her eyes full of pity. “You should see a doctor for this,” she suggested, but I knew better.
“I’ll be fine,” I said quietly. Thank you, Greta.”
The rest of the day passed in a painful blur. I went to the office and began to do my work. We were in a meeting with one of Killian’s business partners. I had spent countless hours preparing a detailed chart to support our presentation, hoping it would be up to their high standards.
As the meeting went on, I stood quietly in the background, listening to the discussions and taking notes. When it was time to present the chart, I handed it to Killian, who barely acknowledged me, his gray eyes scanning the document without a flicker
oftmotion
But then, something unexpected happened. Killian’s partner, Mr. Wilson, looked over the chart and nodded approvingly “This is excellent work,” he said, his voice carrying a tone of genuine admiration “Who prepared this?”
Miranda stiffened beside me, her eyes narrowing. She didn’t want to answer, but she had no choice. “It was her,” she said, nodding in my direction, her voice dripping with reluctance.
Mr. Wilson smiled at me, a rare moment of kindness in my otherwise bleak world. “Well done,” he said. “This is exactly what we needed
I managed a small, grateful smile, but the moment was short–lived. As soon as we returned to the office, Miranda’s jealousy boiled over. She cornered me near the filing cabinets, her eyes blazing with anger.
“Don’t think for a second that this means anything.” she hissed, gripping my burnt wrist with brutal force. Pain shot through my arm, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. “You’re still nothing but a lowly assistant. You will never be more than that.”
Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “Tm just doing my job,” I said quietly, trying to pull my wrist free from her grip.
Miranda tightened her hold, her nails digging into my tender skin. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” she spat. “Well, let me tell you something you’re not. You’re just a pathetic little girl who’s way out of her depth”
The pain was unbearable, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me break. “I know my place, I said through gritted teeth. “And I know what I’m capable of
Miranda’s eyes flashed with fury, and she released my wrist with violent shove. “Get out of my sight,” she snapped. “And don’t you dare think about showing up again.”
I rushed outside the office, tears rolling down my checks, holding my throbbing wrist. I went straight to the washroom, and I splashed cold water on my face, trying to calm my racing thoughts.
It’s for my family!!
I kept saying and pushing myself.
As I was working. Miranda approached my desk with an unusual request. “Take these two coffees to Killian’s office,” she ordered, a sly, evil smirk playing on her lips. Something about her expression sent a shiver down my spine, but I couldn’t afford to question her. I simply nodded and obeyed
I made my way to Killian’s office. The door was slightly ajar, and as I approached, I heard low voices and soft laughter coming from within. Pushing the door open with my shoulder, I stepped inside, my eyes widening at the scene before me.
Killian stood by the window, his tall frame silhouetted against the afternoon light. He was with a woman, her long red hair cascading down her back and her green eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. She was beautiful, her presence radiating a confidence that made my heart sink.
What shocked me most was the way they were holding each other. She had her arms wrapped around Killian’s neck, and he was hugging her back, his eyes soft and filled with an emotion I had never seen him display before. It was pure and undeniable love.
The tray trembled in my hands, and I quickly set it down on a nearby table before I dropped it. My presence seemed to go unnoticed, and for a moment, I stood there frozen, unable to tear my eyes away from the intimate scene.
Killian’s expression was so tender, unlike the cold, indifferent man I had come to know, Seeing him like this, openly affectionate and happy, was like a punch to the gut.
When I returned to my desk. I tried to focus on my tasks, but the office atmosphere buzzed with something different–an excitement I couldn’t ignore.
Miranda and several of our colleagues were gathered in the office “Did you hear? Laurel Parker is back, one of them said, her tone filled with excitement.
“After three years, another chimed in. “I heard she’s the love of Killian’s life.”
“Of course,” Miranda added, her voice dripping with malice. “They were inseparable before she left. Now that she’s back they’ll pick up right where they left off.”
I felt a sharp pang in my chest as their words sank in. Laurel Parker. So that was her name. The woman in Killian’s office, the one he held with such affection, was someone from his past–someone he clearly sull cared for deeply.
“They were such a perfect couple, someone else signed. “I bet they’re thrilled to be together again.”
I attempted to block out their voices, but the words echoed in my head. Laurel Parker was Killian’s love, and now she was back. My position in this marriage, which was already unstable and unwanted, was even more fragile.