ALEX'S POINT OF VIEW
I sat in Nathan's chair, the leather cool beneath me.
The whiskey in my hand was smooth. Expensive. Nathan always had good taste.
I took a slow sip and stared at the phone on the desk in front of me. The screen was dark now, but I didn't need to look at it again. The images burned into my mind.
The office was quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside. I leaned back in the chair, letting my eyes drift to the large windows overlooking the skyline.
Nathan's office was on the fortieth floor. High enough to make you feel powerful. In control.
That's what I needed right now. Control.
I glanced at the phone again.
The security detail I'd assigned to Elena had done exactly what I'd asked. Followed her. Documented where she went. Who she spoke to.
It was practical. She'd be working late now, coming home after dark. I needed to know where she was. In case something happened.
That's what I told myself.
But when the message came through this afternoon, when I opened those photos, something shifted.
Elena had told me she wanted to work. She needed to do something instead of sitting at home all day.
I'd agreed.
I'd even suggested she pursue modeling, since that's what I'd told my parents she did for a living. The lie had been necessary. I couldn't introduce my wife as a hospital cleaner. The Reyes name couldn't be associated with that kind of work.
So I lied. And Elena decided to make the lie real.
She wanted to find the job herself. And didn't want my help. Didn't want me pulling strings.
I'd let her.
There were dozens of modeling agencies in this city. Dozens of places she could've applied.
But she chose his.
Blake Modeling Enterprise. Nathan's company.
Of all the agencies in this city, she walked into his.
I picked up the phone and looked at the photos again.
The first one showed Elena entering a building. The sign above the entrance was clear: Blake Modeling Enterprise.
The second showed her inside, talking to someone I didn't recognize.
The third one made my jaw tighten.
Elena and Nathan. Outside the building. Hugging.
It looked innocent. A friendly hug.
But I knew Nathan. I'd known him my entire life.
And the way he was looking at her in that photo, the way his hand rested on her back just a little too long, told me everything I needed to know.
He cared about her.
I set the phone down and drained the rest of the whiskey.
Elena had smiled in that photo. A real smile. The kind I'd never seen her give me.
She looked happy. Comfortable. Safe.
With him.
I told myself it was about reputation. If people saw Elena with Nathan, rumors would start. Social media would explode. My business rivals would use it against me.
The contract marriage could be questioned.
That's why I was here. Not because I was jealous. Not because I cared.
But because I needed to protect what was mine.
Elena was my wife. On paper. In name. And that meant something.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside.
I straightened in the chair, my expression hardening into the cold mask I'd perfected over the years.
The door opened.
Nathan stepped inside.
His eyes found me immediately, widening in surprise. Then guilt.
I saw it flash across his face before he could hide it.
"Nathan," I said evenly. "We need to talk."
He closed the door behind him, his movements careful.
"What's this about, Alex?"
I didn't answer right away. I let the silence stretch, watching him shift uncomfortably.
Then I picked up my phone. Turned the screen toward him. Showed him the photo.
Elena and Nathan. Hugging.
His face went pale.
"Alex, it's not what you think…"
"Isn't it?" I cut him off, my voice like ice.
I stood slowly, setting the phone down on the desk.
"She's working for you."
It wasn't a question.
Nathan hesitated. "Yes."
"At Blake Modeling."
"Yes."
"And you didn't think to tell me."
"She asked me not to."
I felt my jaw tighten. "She asked you not to."
"Yes."
"And you agreed."
Nathan's expression shifted. Defensive now. "She wanted to do this on her own, Alex. Without help. Without connections. I respected that."
"Respected that," I repeated slowly. "Or saw an opportunity?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I walked around the desk, stopping just inches from him.
We'd been friends for years. Since we were kids. But right now, looking at him, all I felt was cold, calculated anger.
"Don't play dumb, Nathan. It doesn't suit you."
"I'm not playing anything," he said, his voice harder now. "Elena applied to my agency like everyone else. I didn't even know it was her until I saw her there."
"And then?"
"And then I spoke to her. Like a normal human being."
"You hugged her."
"It was a friendly hug, Alex. That's it."
"Was it?"
Nathan's jaw clenched. "What exactly are you accusing me of?"
I stepped closer, my voice dropping. "I'm not accusing you of anything. Yet. I'm simply reminding you of something you seem to have forgotten."
"Which is?"
"Elena is my wife."
"I know that."
"Do you?" I studied his face, searching for cracks in his composure. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're getting too comfortable around her."
"We had one conversation, Alex. One."
"And you hugged her."
"She looked like she needed it," Nathan snapped. "She looked exhausted and overwhelmed and like she was barely holding it together. So yes, I hugged her. Like a friend would."
"A friend," I repeated coldly.
"Yes. A friend. Because unlike you, I actually treat people with basic human decency."
The words hit harder than I expected.
Silence stretched between us.
Nathan ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "Look, I don't know what you think is happening here, but nothing is going on between Elena and me. She's your wife. I respect that."
"Then why did she ask you to keep it a secret?"
Nathan hesitated. Just for a second. But I caught it.
"She has her reasons."
"What reasons?"
"That's between her and you, Alex. Not me."
"Wrong answer."
I picked up my phone again, holding it between us like evidence in a trial.
"You see this photo, Nathan? This is what people will see if this gets out. My wife. In your arms. At your company. How do you think that looks?"
"It looks like two people having a conversation."
"It looks like my wife is closer to you than she is to me."
The words came out before I could stop them.
Nathan's expression softened. "Alex…"
"Don't." I cut him off. "Don't start with sympathy. I don't need it. What I need is for you to stay away from her."
"She works at my company."
"Then fire her."
Nathan's eyes widened. "What?"
"You heard me. Fire her. Transfer her. Do whatever you need to do. But I want her away from you."
"I'm not doing that."
"Excuse me?"
"I said I'm not doing that," Nathan repeated, his voice firm now. "She earned that position. She's working hard. I'm not going to take that away from her just because you're..."
He trailed off.
"Because I'm what?" I challenged him.
Nathan looked at me. Really looked at me. And for a moment, I saw something in his eyes I didn't like.
Pity.
"Because you're scared," he said quietly.
My blood ran cold.
"I'm not scared of anything."
"Yes, you are. You're scared she's going to see who you really are. And you're scared that when she does, she'll realize she deserves better."
The words hung in the air between us like a blade.
I stepped back, my expression freezing over completely.
"You're out of line."
"Maybe. But I'm also right."
I grabbed my phone and slipped it into my pocket.
"Stay away from her, Nathan. I won't ask again."
"Or what?" Nathan challenged. "What are you going to do, Alex? Ruin our friendship? Destroy my business? Control every aspect of her life until she has nothing left?"
I turned to face him fully.
"You've always had a weakness for things that don't belong to you."
Nathan's expression hardened. "What are you talking about?"
"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."