Chapter 1

During a team dinner, I casually mentioned I had to go home and cook dinner for my boyfriend. The female manager sitting across from me rolled her eyes on the spot.

"What century are we living in? Why are you being such a doormat? Do your parents know you're this pathetic?"

I explained I was just picking up groceries on my way home and whipping up a quick meal. No big deal.

She threw her fork down.

"You make eight thousand a month, you split the rent 50/50, and you're still cooking and buying groceries for him? Are you out of your mind?"

"Look at my husband. He makes seven figures, we have a housekeeper, and I never set foot in the kitchen. A woman needs to respect herself. Don't live like a free maid."

I just smiled and kept quiet.

She had no idea that my boyfriend was the majority shareholder of this very company.

And her husband, the one she bragged about every single day at the office, was just a project manager under my boyfriend—someone whose name he couldn't even remember.

The table went quiet for a couple of seconds. Then, a few colleagues chimed in, letting out knowing, polite chuckles.

Zoey, who was sitting next to me, nudged my elbow and whispered, "Don't take it to heart. Victoria is just like that."

I took a sip of my lemon water and shook my head, letting her know I was fine.

Victoria Miller—my direct supervisor and the Administration Manager.

She was forty-two, with perfectly styled curls, always wearing the trendiest manicure, and a Cartier Ballon Bleu on her wrist.

It was her go-to show-off piece, which she never failed to mention was an "anniversary gift from her husband."

Seeing that I remained silent, she got even more excited. She swirled her wine glass and scanned the room.

"Let me tell you girls, you can never go soft on men. Men need to be trained. The more you pamper them, the more they'll walk all over you."

Brenda from accounting quickly chimed in, "Oh, absolutely! Your husband, Richard, adores you so much, Victoria.

That Hermès Birkin he got you last time—he bought that all on his own initiative, right?"

Victoria tilted her chin up, a smug smile spreading across her face. "Of course. If there's one thing about my husband, it's that he's incredibly generous.

He always says women are meant to be spoiled. Spending money is our talent; making it is a man's job."

She turned her gaze back to me, her tone dripping with the condescension of an elder dispensing unwanted wisdom.

"Chloe, you're only twenty-six. Don't turn yourself into a desperate housewife. What's a boyfriend anyway?”

“Before you sign those marriage papers, he's just a stranger. You're doing his laundry and cooking for him. In the end, he can just pack up and walk away. Who are you going to cry to then?"

I set my glass down and said calmly, "Victoria, we have a great relationship. And I actually enjoy cooking."

"Enjoy?" Victoria laughed out loud, her laughter laced with blatant contempt.

"Oh, please. What woman naturally enjoys cooking? You're only doing it because your boyfriend is mediocre at best, and you're terrified of losing him."

A few colleagues laughed along.

Under the table, Zoey squeezed my hand.

I looked down at my barely touched plate of rice, taking a deep breath.

Honestly, it wasn't that I couldn't fight back.

But whenever I ended up in situations like this, I always remembered what Aiden said.

"Don't waste your energy on irrelevant people. They aren't worth it."

Aiden Carter.

My boyfriend.

He was also the majority shareholder of Carter Holdings.

The ceiling of this company—and three floors above that—belonged to him.

But he never let me expose our relationship at work.

When I first joined, he even made sure HR processed my application through the standard channels without any special treatment.

"It's good for you to experience corporate life," he had said back then, leaning against the sofa, casually flipping channels with the remote as if we were discussing what to have for dinner. "But if you ever get bullied, you have to tell me."

I told him I wasn't going to war.

He turned off the TV, looked at me, and smiled. "That's because you haven't seen the real corporate world yet."

Thinking back to those words now, I had to admit he had foresight.

By the time the dinner ended, it was already nine.

I said goodbye to everyone, grabbed my purse, and walked out of the restaurant.

The March night breeze was chilly. I wrapped my coat tighter around myself and was about to call an Uber when my phone buzzed.

Aiden had sent me a Snapchat: The ingredients are in the fridge. I've washed them all. You can just cook when you get back.

Below was a photo.

Inside the fridge, chopped broccoli, peeled shrimp, and minced garlic and herbs were neatly arranged in containers, perfectly sealed with plastic wrap.

I couldn't help but smile, typing back: Since when did you learn how to meal prep?

He replied instantly: I don't want you to work too hard.

I stood on the sidewalk laughing for a while. The frustration Victoria had caused completely evaporated.

When I got home, Aiden was sitting on the living room sofa looking at his tablet. He was wearing a grey lounge tee, and his hair was slightly messy.

A cup of warm honey water sat on the coffee table, next to an open bag of mixed nuts.

"Why so late?" He looked up, pushing the honey water toward me.

"Just a team dinner. We chatted for a bit." I slipped into my house slippers, walked over, and sat down. The honey water was the perfect temperature.

He stared at my face for two seconds before setting his tablet down on the coffee table. "Who upset you?"

"No one."

"Chloe, when you lie, your right eyebrow twitches."

I touched my eyebrow, amused by his bizarrely precise observation skills.

"It's just Victoria from my department. She said some... unpleasant things during dinner."

"Like what?"

"She said cooking for you makes me a free maid. She called me a doormat and said I was out of my mind."

I tried to sound lighthearted, but my voice still trailed off with a bit of deflation. "I guess she thinks women shouldn't set foot in the kitchen."

Aiden didn't answer immediately.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to him.

After a few seconds of silence, he spoke in a low voice.

"Victoria Miller? From Administration?"

"You know her?"

"I don't," he paused. "But I know her husband. Richard Miller. He's a manager in the Phase II project group. During the project audit last year, his team messed up some data and almost got sued by the client."

"That serious?"

"Not too serious. They patched it up later. But he's sloppy and has only survived this long because of his seniority." He looked down at me. "Do you care about what she said?"

"Not really."

"Yes, you do."

"...Okay, maybe a little," I mumbled, burying my face in his chest. "She said it in front of a dozen people. I couldn't exactly throw a tantrum there."

His fingers gently brushed the stray hairs away from my forehead. His tone was incredibly calm.

"So, how do you want to handle it?"

"I don't. I'll just swallow it. It'll blow over."

Aiden didn't say anything else, but I felt his arm tighten around me just a bit.