BILLIONAIRE'S UNINTENDED BRIDE

Chapter 52: Executed With Precision

Chapter 52: Executed With Precision

The tension between Luke and me lingered like a persistent echo, a slow, steady drip of a leaky faucet impossible to ignore. Our conversations, once the soundtrack of our shared warmth, had faded into brief, functional exchanges, devoid of the spark that once ignited our days. This morning, my office felt cloaked in a heaviness, the air thick with unspoken words and the fading scent of my now cold coffee.

Gwin, Luke's assistant, was the heartbeat of our office – as reliable as the sunrise and just as comforting. Her penchant for chocolate bars was almost sacred, a trait that never failed to bring a smile to my face, reminding me of my grandmother who used to hide peanuts in every conceivable spot, a secret reserve for tough times or just a whimsical treat.

As Gwin entered my office, her expression was an unusual blend of concern and curiosity. Attempting to inject some humor into the morning, I quipped, "I swear I didn't touch the chocolate bar, and I don't—"

Her gentle smile, warm yet serious, stopped me mid-sentence. "Miss Walton, that's not what I'm here for," she said, shaking her head softly. "Do you know why Luke's clearing his schedule for the week?" Her brows furrowed in confusion. "I was hoping you two might be planning some romantic escape."

I returned her gaze with a bewildered shrug, my heart sinking slightly. "I wish I knew, Gwin. He hasn't mentioned anything about a vacation, or... anything, really."

Throughout the day, the seed of worry Gwin had sown deepened into a gnawing vine of anxiety. When she returned later, her face was a portrait of annoyance. "There's this abrasive woman outside Luke's office, refusing to leave. She's quite the piece of work," she said, her tone edged with irritation. "I'd like to grab her by the neck and toss her out the window," she half-joked.

Her words drew a surprised laugh from me. "Well, I don't know about that... you might actually kill her," I responded, playing along with her dark humor.

Gwin chuckled, her mood lightening a fraction. "That's the plan. I don't know who she thinks she is, but she's nasty, and I'd love to teach her a lesson about manners from my days."

"I'm all ears, but first, let's see what this is about," I said, curiosity getting the better of me as we headed towards the front desk.

The woman waiting there was a striking embodiment of contradictions – breathtakingly beautiful, yet her presence was marred by an almost palpable sense of entitlement. I approached her with a cautious smile, extending my hand. "Hi, I'm Emily Walton, Luke's—"

Her response was a dismissive once-over, her lips twisting into a sneer as she muttered something derogatory under her breath.

Gwin, fiercely protective, stepped forward, her voice sharp and unwavering. "You'll show some goddamn respect to Mrs. Walton," she snapped. "Emily here is the real deal, unlike your plastic-fantastic façade."

The woman's eyes narrowed, a silent challenge sparking in their depths, and I felt the air between us crackle with unspoken confrontation. In this brewing storm, Gwin's unyielding loyalty was a surprising yet comforting anchor.

As the tension simmered, the sound of Luke's office door cut through the charged atmosphere. He emerged, his arrival altering the dynamics of the standoff. He greeted the woman, now identified as Emma, with a strained smile that failed to mask his unease. When he looked at me, his eyes briefly softened, a glimmer of the Luke I knew, before suggesting I take lunch without him. His words, though mundane, echoed with a sense of growing distance, a subtle reminder of the widening gap in our once-close bond.

Sensing my disappointment, Luke closed the distance between us with a few strides. He pulled me close, his lips brushing against my ear in a gesture so intimate it momentarily swept away my concerns. "I'll make it up to you tonight," he whispered, his voice a seductive promise that resonated with a blend of apology and desire.

Emma's impatient voice shattered our brief oasis of intimacy. "Luke, let's get on with it," she said, her tone laced with annoyance. Her words seemed to jolt Luke back to the present, his body tensing beside me.

In a response that mixed irritation and defiance, Luke shot back, "You can fucking wait." His grip on me tightened, a protective gesture that contrasted sharply with his words. "Don't rush me when I'm with my wife."

The reassurance of his embrace was fleeting, quickly overshadowed by Emma's intrusive presence and the unknown reasons behind her visit. As Luke and Emma retreated into his office, their departure left a trail of unanswered questions and unsettling possibilities in my mind.

Left alone, I retreated to my office, where the silence seemed to amplify my swirling thoughts. The walls felt like they were closing in, a physical manifestation of the emotional chasm that had opened up between Luke and me. The unanswered questions about Luke's behavior and Emma's mysterious visit loomed large, each passing minute stretching the distance between us further.

I tried to push away the creeping doubts, but the seed of jealousy that Emma's presence had planted refused to be ignored. The longer Luke and Emma remained behind the closed door of his office, the more my mind raced with dark, unspoken fears.

It was late when Emma finally emerged from Luke's office, her departure marked by an air of satisfaction that did nothing to alleviate my concerns. Torn between confrontation and the fear of what truths I might unearth, I hesitated. But the need for answers, for some understanding of the growing rift between Luke and me, propelled me forward. With a heart pounding a tumultuous rhythm, I made my way towards Luke's office, each step heavy with apprehension.