Wife on Strike! Beg Harder, Mr. Billionaire!

ng-sized bed. I reached out blindly, expecting to pull Sophie into my arms the way I ha

it hit me. The anniversary dinner disaster, the removed wedding ring left sh

muttered to myself

acquisitions, negotiate with stubborn board members, and make high-stakes decisions every single day. Yet, apparently, m

missed anniversary dinner. Sophie would cool off by lunch, I told myself. She loved me. Wo

t I usually wore on Tuesdays, only to find a completely disorganized row of hangers. Sophie wasn't there to lay

searching through drawers befo

the second ring, sounding entirely

my important meetings today require a navy suit or a charcoal one? And

eply uncomfortable p

king me to style

abbed a charcoal suit at random, feeling thoroughly annoyed tha

t. Instead, I found Sophie sitting calmly at the kitchen island, wearing a comfortable oversized sweater, eat

ossing my arms. "Good morn

She took a slow bite of her cereal, swallowed, and fina

ou'll find the kitchen is f

le. I have a board meeting in an hour

y. "Remember? The strike officially started last night. I am

diculous. It's been one day. Are you seriously g

e, brand-new calendar stuck to the fridge with a magnet. On it, she had drawn a bold red circle around a date ninety days

you seriously grade me?

ul feedback," she sai

on, but because I never actually used the machine myself, I forgot to place a cup underneath. Hot, d

y breath, grabbi

to hide a smile behind her hand. Even covered in coffee stains, hearing that genuine, bri

ttoning the ruined shirt. "You

rving," she sa

ut of pure habit. But before my lips could reach her cheek, Sophi

my eyes. "Remember the rules, Nathani

lief. "You're suspending kissing? That

" she replied, not backing down an inch

feeling more rattled

ly, my phone would buzz three or four times by noon with a funny text from Sophie, a reminder about

ht Oliver eyeing me strangel

on my face, Oliver

our phone seven times in the last ten minutes

yes. "Why would

wn kitchen appliances, people tend to wonder. Sir, if I may speak freely... Sophie has been under a lot of stress lately. I

ately, though my voice lacked its usual c

Oliver said quietly. "Not the gi

gift bag sitting neatly beside my laptop. I picked it up and pulled out a sleek, elegant watch box. Inside was a watch I ha

phie's handwriting: Even the busiest man in the

ar the door, offere

h a private dinner. But you had to fly to Chicago for that emergency ac

at day. She had asked me to come home early, and I had dismissed it, telling her

Sophie and I had synced since the day we got married. I began scrolling backward through past

an entry dated three wee

ligation. It was a single, clean calendar invit

y lungs. A family lawyer. Sophie had scheduled a meet

ed dinner. She hadn't just thrown together a ninety-day strike on a

ched up my phone, pulled up her

A second later, a text message popped up on my s

y screen, my hands trembling slightly with a cold

d out m

ve you been thinkin