The whispers began before Maya even reached her desk.
They weren't subtle. They never were.
She felt them the moment the elevator doors opened—voices lowering, conversations cutting off mid-sentence, eyes flicking toward her and then away again. The air on the floor felt heavier than usual, thick with curiosity and something sharper.
Judgment.
Maya straightened her shoulders and walked forward, heels clicking against the polished floor.
Ignore it, she told herself. You've survived worse.
"Good morning, Mrs. Cole."
The greeting came from someone in finance, overly sweet, laced with something false. Maya returned a polite nod and kept walking.
Behind her, a whisper slipped through the cracks.
"Do you think she knew what she was doing?"
Another voice replied, "Of course she did. You don't land Adrian Cole by accident."
Maya's fingers curled around her tablet.
At her desk, she focused on work—emails, schedules, meeting notes—anything to keep her mind anchored. But the office buzzed with an energy she couldn't escape.
Someone had printed a gossip blog and left it on the breakroom table.
Someone had highlighted her name.
By mid-morning, it got worse.
"Maya," HR called gently. "Can we talk?"
Her stomach dropped.
She followed the HR manager into a glass-walled room, painfully aware of how many eyes followed her.
"This is… informal," the manager said quickly. "But there have been concerns raised."
"Concerns about what?" Maya asked calmly.
"About conflict of interest," she replied, choosing her words carefully. "Your previous role as Mr. Cole's assistant, and now… your marriage."
Maya nodded. "I expected this."
"Some employees feel—" the manager hesitated, clearly uncomfortable, "—that your position here may have been influenced."
Maya met her gaze. "I earned my role. Before I was his wife."
"I understand," the manager said. "But perceptions matter."
"So does fairness," Maya replied. "If necessary, I'm willing to step back from sensitive projects."
The manager looked surprised. "You'd do that?"
"Yes," Maya said. "I won't give anyone a reason to question my integrity."
The meeting ended without resolution, but Maya walked out with her head held high.
Inside, she felt hollow.
At lunch, she overheard the worst of it.
"She's playing innocent, but look at her now."
"Gold digger or genius—either way, she won."
"Bet she was warming his bed long before the wedding."
Maya froze mid-step.
Her chest burned. Her vision blurred.
She turned slowly.
The women at the table fell silent when they saw her.
"I didn't," Maya said quietly. "And it's none of your business."
One of them scoffed. "You expect us to believe that?"
Maya's voice didn't rise. "I don't need your belief. I need your professionalism."
She walked away before they could respond, heart pounding.
She locked herself in the restroom and gripped the sink, breathing through the ache in her chest.
Don't cry.
She refused to give them that satisfaction.
Adrian found out within the hour.
He stood in his office, jaw tight, eyes dark as Maya recounted what had happened. He didn't interrupt. That alone told her how angry he was.
"They had no right," he said finally.
"They think I used you," she replied softly. "And maybe… maybe I did."
Adrian's gaze snapped to hers. "Don't."
"You don't hear what they say."
"I don't care what they say," he replied sharply. "I care about what they do."
He reached for the intercom. "Call an all-hands meeting."
Maya's eyes widened. "Adrian, don't."
"They crossed a line."
"You'll make it worse," she said. "They'll think I asked you to step in."
He paused, studying her.
"You don't need me to fight your battles," she continued. "I can handle this."
The silence stretched.
Finally, Adrian lowered his hand.
"All right," he said tightly. "But if anyone disrespects you again—"
"I'll tell you," she finished.
He nodded once. "Good."
The rest of the day passed in a blur.
When Maya returned to her desk, she found a note waiting.
Some of us believe in you. Don't let them break you.
She swallowed hard.
Not everyone was against her.
But the damage was done.
That evening, as they rode the elevator home, the silence between them was heavier than usual.
"They hate me," Maya said suddenly.
"They're afraid of you," Adrian corrected.
She looked at him. "Why would they be afraid?"
"Because," he said, "you didn't beg for this position. You didn't claw your way up. And yet, you stand beside me."
She let out a soft laugh. "That's not power."
"It is to people who believe life is a competition," he replied.
She leaned back against the wall, exhausted. "I didn't want this."
"I know," he said quietly.
For a moment, she thought he might say more.
He didn't.
Later that night, Maya sat alone on the couch, laptop open but unread. Her confidence felt chipped, cracked around the edges.
Adrian appeared from his office, loosening his tie. He stopped when he saw her.
"You okay?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Define okay."
He sat across from her, closer than necessary. "You don't deserve this."
She met his eyes. "Neither do you."
Their gazes held, something unspoken passing between them.
Then Adrian said something unexpected.
"Tomorrow," he said, "you'll sit beside me in the board meeting."
Her eyes widened. "That's not subtle."
"No," he agreed. "But it's honest."
She hesitated. "They'll talk even more."
"They already are," he said. "This time, they'll know where I stand."
Her chest tightened. "Why are you doing this?"
Adrian's voice dropped. "Because you're my wife."
The words landed heavily.
Too real.
Too dangerous.
Maya looked away first.
The whispers hadn't broken her.
But they'd changed something.
And she feared what might happen next—
when pretending was no longer enough.
Next: Chapter 11 - Lines Begin to Blur
Jealousy doesn't announce itself.
It just slips past the rules.
Tonight | 11:30 PM – 12:30 AM