A dress to his wife

Scarlet exhaled sharply. Her fingers curled into fists on the desk. "What exactly have I gotten into?"

Dropping the phone, she wanted to go into the president's office and lay her complaint but she is afraid of losing her job. Her heart beating wildly at the situation. Through the glass view, Lucian was able to see what she is doing and at anytime.

Lucian leaned back in his chair, watching Scarlet through the glass partition as she paced the office in distress. A small, amused smirk played on his lips . It had been a long time since he was amused but this woman seems to be foolish.

He began to wonder why on earth she had not known him since his picture was on their marriage certificate—unless she has never opened the little book let alone to look at it.

His fingers tapping idly on the mahogany desk. He had never been one for sentimentality, but there was something oddly entertaining about watching her struggle with the reality she had unknowingly walked into.

Scarlet stopped pacing and inhaled deeply, her squared her shoulders as if gathering courage. Is she finally coming in? Lucian mused, arching a brow.

But instead, she sat down abruptly, burying her face in her hands. Lucian's smirk deepened.

"Let's see how long it takes for you to figure it out," he murmured under his breath, his tone laced with amusement.

Scarlet pulled her phone, her hand hovering over the phone in contemplation, and In a swift moment of decision she dialed out to Bryan

"Can you please inform Boss that I am going to a dinner party with the president, I wasn't informed on time?" she said, her breathe sharp and her heart erratic.

She knew she had succeeded in requesting not living with the president and could easily go and come back but she wouldn't want a case of where she will regarded as a liar.

Bryan sighed, his boss was truly something else. He didn't want to imagine what already Scarlet's reaction will be the day she finds out.

While he is still contemplating, Lucian call came in "Prepare a dress for her, make sure the dress suits her," Lucian added, his tone calm yet firm. "Nothing too flashy, but elegant enough to match my status."

"Understood," he replied. "I'll have a dress sent to her right away."

Lucian's eyes darkened slightly, his smirk deepening. "She still doesn't know who I am. Let's keep it that way—for now."

Bryan shook his head but obeyed. "I'll handle it."

Lucian leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the polished wood of his desk. His sharp gaze flickered toward the glass window separating his office from Scarlet's workspace.

There she was—sitting staring at her phone her expression a mix of confusion and frustration.

Scarlet, on the other hand, was siting in her office, clutching her phone tightly. She had a strange feeling about this dinner, but there was no way she could refuse the president's order. "What about it cost her salary?"

Not long after, Bryan sent her a message:

"A dress will be delivered to you at your friend's place since you're staying there today. Be there before 6pm for the stylist to attend to you."

Scarlet's lips parted slightly in surprise. A dress?

"But the president said he will send a dress." She replied with confusion.

"Boss doesn't want anybody sending a dress to his wife. So you are to use the one he will send", he replied.

Scarlet felt her head ache. She sighed deeply. As she dropped her phone on the table. She quickly took a snapshot of her office blurring the background before updating with the caption "transferred to a new office...may the future be bright."

The rest of the day was without any further.

In the office, Lucian got the notification of her update on the social media, a smile crept up his lips in confirmation. It will be bright, he murmured.

At the close of work, Scarlet was gathering her items when her intercom rang, without thinking she knew who the caller is—the President.

"Send me the address of your home for the driver to pick you up by 7:30." Lucian smirked looking at her frowning.

Scarlet rubbed her brows "Yes Sir", she muttered almost inaudible.

Scarlet sighed as she dropped the intercom. She had been mentally preparing herself for the dinner, but now that the time was approaching, a wave of unease settled over her.

Her address? Wasn't it enough that she was suddenly assigned as the president's assistant? Now, he wanted to know where she lived too?

She rubbed her temples, trying to push away the fatigue. Arguing wouldn't do her any good—she needed this job. So, with a resigned sigh, she pulled out her phone and sent Mario's address to the number provided since she hasn't visited her home.

Almost immediately, a reply came:

"Be ready on time."

Scarlet exhaled sharply. "So commanding." She murmured under her breath.

She shook her head, grabbing her things, she quickly exited the office.

Mario caught up with her, eyes curious on how her new place of work is "You look stressed. What's going on?"

Scarlet groaned. "The president is sending a driver to pick me up for the dinner. I don't even know what to expect, Mario."

Mario's eyes widened. "Wait—you're actually going? With him?"

"Do I have a choice?" Scarlet muttered.

Mario whistled. "Girl, you better look stunning tonight. Who knows? This might be your chance to impress the big boss."

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "I just want to get through the night without embarrassing myself."

They arrived Mario's home early and because of the party she quickly fixed dinner for them so Scarlet wouldn't leave without a meal.

While they were eating, the door bell rang... Scarlet sighed in frustration "they are here" she murmured.

Mario looked at her with confusion "Who?"

"The stylist." She chimed.

"Stylist? To prepare you for the party?" Mario asked her voice several decibels high that Scarlet has to cover her ears to protect her ear drum.

Without a second hesitation, she sprang to her feet, hurriedly opened the door and ushered the stylist into the house. She couldn't stop smiling as she watched them arrange their items one after another.

"Miss Winter, we are ready. You can come over here. Your dress was delivered to our office and had not been opened for the first time." The leader said lightly.