CEO's Secret Bride

The scent of coffee filled the kitchen as Maya Patton hummed softly, her fingers dancing across her laptop keyboard. The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting golden patterns across the marble countertop. She'd been up since dawn, working on a debugging project that had kept her awake half the night.

The front door clicked open, then shut with deliberate softness.

"Morning," she called out, not looking up from her screen. "There's fresh coffee if you want some."

Devin's footsteps approached the kitchen, measured and unhurried. When he didn't respond, Maya finally glanced up.

Her husband stood in the doorway, his tailored suit impeccable as always, his expression unreadable. In his hands was a thick manila envelope.

"I need you to sign these," he said, his voice flat and emotionless.

Maya's fingers froze over the keyboard. "Sign what?"

Without a word, Devin placed the envelope on the counter beside her laptop, careful not to spill her coffee. His wedding ring caught the light as he withdrew his hand.

"Divorce papers," he said simply. "My attorney finalized them yesterday."

The room seemed to tilt sideways. Maya stared at him, waiting for the punchline, for some indication this was a terrible joke.

"You're not serious," she whispered.

Devin checked his watch. "I have a meeting at nine. The sooner you sign them, the easier this will be for both of us."

He turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving the envelope like a bomb on the counter.

"Devin!" Maya scrambled off the stool, nearly knocking over her coffee. "Devin, wait!"

She caught up to him in the foyer as he picked up his briefcase. "You can't just drop divorce papers on me without explanation! We were fine yesterday. What happened?"

He didn't look at her. "Nothing happened. This has been coming for a while."

"Two years of marriage, and you can't even give me the courtesy of a conversation?" Her voice cracked. "What did I do?"

Devin finally met her eyes, his gaze cold. "You didn't do anything. It's just over."

The door closed behind him with a soft click that somehow hurt more than if he'd slammed it.

Maya stood frozen in the foyer, listening to his car engine start and fade away. Her mind raced through the past weeks, searching for signs she'd missed, arguments that hadn't been resolved, anything that would explain this.

Nothing.

She returned to the kitchen in a daze and stared at the envelope. With trembling fingers, she opened it and pulled out the stack of papers. Bold black letters at the top confirmed her nightmare: DIVORCE SETTLEMENT.

"This isn't happening," she whispered, sinking onto the stool. Her coffee had gone cold, forgotten.

The papers blurred as tears filled her eyes. She'd given up her apartment, adjusted her career goals, and built her life around their relationship. And now he wanted to erase it all with a signature.

"I won't sign this," she said to the empty kitchen. "Not without answers."

She tried calling Devin, but her calls went straight to voicemail. Each unanswered ring twisted the knife deeper.

After the fifth attempt, Maya abandoned her phone and headed upstairs to shower. The hot water couldn't wash away the shock, but it cleared her head enough to think about next steps.

She was halfway through drying her hair when the doorbell rang.

Wrapping herself in a bathrobe, she hurried downstairs. "Coming!" she called, cinching the belt tighter.

Through the peephole, she saw a stranger – a tall man in a dark jacket standing on her porch. She hesitated, then cracked the door open.

"Can I help you?"

The man offered a professional smile. "Ms. Patton? I'm Paul. Mr. Maxwell sent me."

Maya's grip tightened on the door. "Devin sent you? Why?"

"My team and I are here to assist with your move-out." He gestured toward a van parked in the driveway where another man was unloading empty boxes.

"My what?" Maya felt her stomach drop. "There must be a mistake."

Paul's expression remained neutral. "Mr. Maxwell was quite clear. He asked us to help you pack your personal belongings and vacate the premises by this afternoon."

"That's impossible. This is my home." Her voice sounded distant to her own ears.

"Perhaps you'd like to speak with him directly?" Paul offered, pulling out his phone.

"Yes, please," Maya said, clinging to the hope that this was all a misunderstanding.

Paul dialed and put the phone on speaker. Devin answered immediately.

"Is it done yet? Have you gotten that woman out of my house?"

The words hit Maya like physical blows. That woman. Not his wife. Not even her name.

Paul quickly took the phone off speaker, sending her an apologetic glance.

Maya stepped back, letting the door swing wider. She felt hollow, as if something vital had been scooped out of her chest.

"I'll need some time to pack," she said mechanically.

"Of course," Paul replied, his professional demeanor now tinged with awkward sympathy. "We can help, or give you privacy. Whatever you prefer."

"Privacy," she whispered. "Just... wait outside."

Upstairs, Maya moved on autopilot, pulling clothes from hangers and stuffing them into suitcases. Two years of marriage reduced to whatever she could carry. Her wedding photo stared accusingly from the nightstand. She placed it face-down before continuing to pack.

An hour later, she dragged her luggage downstairs. Paul stepped forward to help, but she shook her head.

"I've got it."

Outside, the spring day continued, obscenely beautiful. Birds sang in the maple tree she'd planted last year. The neighbor's cat watched from a fence post.

"Do you have somewhere to go?" Paul asked as she loaded her bags into her car. "Mr. Maxwell asked me to ensure—"

"I'm fine," Maya cut him off. The last thing she needed was Devin's concern about her welfare when he'd just demolished her life.

She slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, refusing to look back at the house. Two years of memories, of building a life she thought was solid, all collapsing behind her.

As she pulled away from the curb, she caught Paul in her rearview mirror, phone already at his ear. Reporting to Devin, no doubt. Mission accomplished. Wife removed.

Maya gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white. The tears would come later. For now, she focused on the road ahead, each mile taking her further from the life she'd lost and toward an uncertain future she never wanted.

Behind her, Paul watched her car disappear around the corner. He sighed heavily before answering Devin's call.

"It's done, sir," he said, unable to keep the distaste from his voice. "She's gone."