Meek Wife
"Go and bring my breakfast from the canteen," Xavier said, not even glancing up from his documents.
"Okay," Deyna responded softly. She took her overcoat, gracefully turned, and walked out of the office.
The moment she stepped into the canteen, whispers began to stir like wildfire. People turned their heads and stared at her as if she had just grown wings.
She ignored them at first, collected Xavier's breakfast, and turned—only to bump into a familiar face.
"Esme," she called out.
"Hey girl!" Esmeralda grinned.
"Why is everyone looking at me like I'm an alien or something?" Deyna whispered.
Esmeralda leaned in. "Well, probably because you're the first-ever woman not to be fired on the first day. And also, you're the personal assistant to the president. That's basically legendary status around here."
"Alright. Thanks for clearing that up. See you later!" Deyna said with a small laugh. They hugged and went their separate ways.
When Deyna returned to the office, she stopped in her tracks.
A stunning but arrogant-looking woman sat comfortably on the couch, her legs crossed like she owned the place. Blonde hair curled perfectly down her shoulders, her nose sharp, lips painted in an intimidating violet.
Is this the rumored fiancée of the president? Deyna wondered silently.
"Good morning, ma'am," Deyna greeted politely.
The woman raised a brow, scoffed, and let her gaze rake over Deyna.
"Who are you? And what the hell are you doing in Xavier's office?" Her voice was dripping venom. "Are you perhaps a slut? A whore? A bed warmer?"
Deyna's eyes widened slightly at the woman's tone.
"Let me make this very clear. Xavier has a fiancée. A woman he loves very much. So don't you dare think about seducing him. Do you get me, slut?" she snapped, practically spitting the words.
All the while, behind a secret mirrored wall in the office, Xavier sat—arms folded, eyes cold, watching everything unfold with a sharp glint in his golden-black eyes.
He had heard every single word.
But he didn't plan to step in.
He wanted to see what his future wife was made of. Xavier Draven wasn't just the CEO of an empire—he was the king of the underworld. A man born in ruthlessness, carved by danger, and bathed in power.
He didn't want a meek woman.
He wanted a queen—one who'd burn the world if someone dared to disrespect her. Someone who would mirror his arrogance, his fire, his dominance.
Now, it was time to see Deyna's true colors.
"Oh, miss," Deyna said calmly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Are you referring to me… or yourself?"
Iris blinked, stunned by the unexpected response.
"Because from what I can see, you clearly know Xavier has a fiancée. He loves her very much, right? But then…" Deyna paused, her eyes trailing over Iris with thinly veiled disgust, "look at you. A seductive dress clinging to your body like desperation, an exposed back, makeup so thick you could scare a ghost, and breasts almost falling out like you're selling something. So before you talk about class, maybe take a good look at what you're representing."
She smiled, sweet and savage.
"But don't worry, I'll help you out. You're like a worn-out wall used by an old man and thrown into the streets for display."
Her eyes narrowed.
"And besides," Deyna added, her voice laced with mockery, "I'm beautiful, cute, and nice. Not a raging bull like you. So it wouldn't even hurt if I was his bed warmer… or maybe even his mistress."
That broke Iris.
"You won't dare, you slut!" Iris screamed, lunging forward with a raised hand.
But before the slap could land, her wrist was caught mid-air.
Twisted.
Bent behind her back with force.
Iris gasped. Her knees trembled.
The woman holding her wasn't the sweet, soft-spoken Deyna from before. No. The Deyna in front of her now had eyes like frozen steel and a presence that screamed danger. Something inside her had snapped and awakened.
"You really had the nerve to raise your hand on me?" Deyna whispered coldly. Her breath was steady, her tone sharp enough to cut bone. "Try that again and you'll lose that arm forever."
Iris whimpered in pain.
"And if you have any issues with Xavier, take them to him," Deyna said, twisting her arm one last time before flinging her aside like trash. "Don't drag me into your pitiful insecurities."
She snatched her overcoat from the chair, flipped it over her shoulders like a queen donning her robe, and turned to walk away.
But the moment she spun around there he was.
Xavier.
Standing there.
Watching everything.
Deyna froze. Her eyes darted to Iris.
"Xavier!" Iris cried out immediately, staggering toward him. "See what your secretary did to me? I was just trying to tell her you already have a fiancée. I told her not to get any ideas about you but… but she wouldn't listen."
Tears poured down her cheeks fake, but convincing.
"She grabbed me… broke my wrist… and said you belonged to her! She even said she's more beautiful than your fiancée!"
Iris looked like the perfect victim.
But Xavier didn't even blink.
His gaze didn't move to Iris.
It was locked on Deyna.