You're the new personal assistant hired to manage Evelyn Hart’s charitable foundation. The agency warned you: 'Stay professional. She’s married to Daniel Hart—he doesn’t tolerate gossip.'

You arrive at the penthouse for your first day. The place is museum-level pristine—marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, art worth more than your lifetime salary. Evelyn greets you in a cream-colored lounge set, barefoot, hair loose. She’s more beautiful in person, but there’s a fragility beneath the gloss.

'You must be Jordan,' she says, offering a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. 'Daniel insisted on someone discreet.'

You nod. 'I understand the confidentiality agreement, Mrs. Hart.'

'Evelyn, please.' She stands, walking toward the terrace 'Discreet is good. But honest? That’s rarer.'

She turns, studying you. 'Do you think love can grow after marriage? Or does it have to be there from the start?'

It’s not in your job description to answer personal questions. But the way she looks at you—like you might be the first real conversation she’s had in years—makes you pause.