The Badass Wife of a Hot Billionaire

In a sleek office with a minimalistic design, a man in his mid-20s, sat behind a large desk engrossed in his work. The immaculate space perfectly suited his personality—organized, sophisticated, and efficient.

The soft glow of sunlight streams through large windows, adding an air of elegance to the ambiance. This is the domain of Ethan Westwood, a man who exudes confidence and charm.

His name is Ethan Westwood. His only love is his work. Even though countless beautiful women tried to seduce him, no one caught his eye. Not even his sweet little wife. Whom he has only seen a total of 5 times since their wedding.

As the door to the office swings open with a soft creak, Ethan's attentive eyes flicker towards the entrance. His dedicated assistant, Thomas, steps in, carrying a stack of files. Thomas is loyal, always impeccably dressed, and moves with the precision of a seasoned professional.

"Good morning, Mr. Westwood," Thomas greets with a respectful nod, his eyes reflecting admiration for his employer's sharp business acumen.

"Good morning, Thomas," Ethan replies, his voice resonating with authority as he leans back in his chair. He scans the files Thomas brought, preparing to attend to the pressing matters they hold.

"Here are the files you requested, sir," the assistant said, his tone respectful.

Ethan looked up, briefly acknowledging the assistant with a nod before signing the first file without even glancing at it. His mind seemed to be preoccupied with something else.

"Any news from my wife?" he inquired.

The assistant cleared his throat, a subtle indication that the news he had wasn't positive. "I'm afraid not, sir," he replied, choosing his words carefully. "She hasn't responded to any of the six mails you sent."

Ethan's jaw tightens, and he averts his gaze for a moment, trying to mask his disappointment. This was the first time his wife hadn't replied to any of his mails.

His frustration simmered beneath the surface as he turned his chair to face the vast window that showcased the breathtaking view of the city from the 20th floor. The bustling streets and soaring buildings were a stark contrast to the turmoil in his mind.

He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, trying to gather his thoughts. The impending arrival of his parents added pressure to the already tense situation. His father, a heart patient who had recently been discharged from the hospital, wanted to be close to him during his recovery. To uphold his father's wish, he found himself entangled in this fake marriage.

He couldn't help but feel trapped, yearning for a way out of this charade. If not for his father's health, he would never have resorted to such an arrangement. But duty had led him here, and now he needed his wife's cooperation to face his parents.

His wife had never done this before—ignoring him for so long. The unanswered emails gnawed at him, leaving him lost in thought.

He does not care what she is doing. But there are pressing matters that need to be dealt with.

A nagging thought crept up in his mind. What if she is sick. With the money I pay her to be my wife it should be enough to take care of everything for her. But he does need to be aware of how she is faring, she is his wife after all.

What if she is really sick, if his parents saw her in that condition how will he explain it to them. On top of that, his wife is small and shy and seemed very innocent to him the 5 times he had seen her.

Turning away from the mesmerizing view, he decided it was time to act. He approached his assistant, who was diligently working at his desk.

"Thomas," he called out to his assistant, his voice tinged with urgency.

The assistant promptly appeared at the door, attentive to his employer's needs. "Yes, sir?"

"I need you to track down my wife," the man said firmly, his eyes still fixated on the city below. "Find out where she is and take me to her location."

Thomas nodded. "Right away, sir. I'll do my best to locate her."