Craving for My Tyrant Husband

The next morning, Everleigh stood in front of the mirror, dressed for her first day at the new photography studio. She wore a simple black turtleneck and slacks. The yellow diamond was tucked safely under the fabric, resting against her skin like a hot coal. "Too flashy," she muttered. "Definitely too flashy for a junior assistant." Her phone rang, An unknown number. "Hello?" "You think you're clever, don't you?" Darrin's voice screamed into her ear. "Blocking me? Getting me thrown out of Cartier?" Her grip on the phone tightened. "Darrin, stop. It's over." "It's not over until I say it's over!" he yelled. "And that ring? It's fake. Just like you. Who is he? Some old sugar daddy you found on Craigslist?" "He's my husband," Evie said, her voice shaking but firm. "And he's worth a thousand of you." "I have photos, Everleigh," Darrin hissed. "Private photos. From that weekend in the Hamptons. If you don't come back and beg..." The blood drained from her face. "You wouldn't." "Try me. I'll post them everywhere. I'll send them to your new boss." Panic, cold and suffocating, clawed at her throat. Suddenly, there was a sound on the line. A loud thud. Then a scuffle. "Hey! Who are you? Get off me!" Darrin shrieked. Then, silence. A new voice came on the line. Calm. Mechanical. Terrifying. "Mrs. Williams?" "Who... who is this?" "I am legal counsel for Mr. G's firm. We have been monitoring the situation. The pest has been neutralized." "Neutralized?" Evie gasped. "Did you kill him?" "We are law-abiding citizens, ma'am," the lawyer said smoothly. "We have simply confiscated his phone and served him with a restraining order. He is currently crying in the hallway." She could hear faint sobbing in the background. It was definitely Darrin. "And the photos?" she whispered. "Deleted. The cloud backup has been scrubbed. The device has been... bricked. You are safe." "Gus sent you?" "Mr. G does not tolerate threats against his family. Our corporate security and legal departments are... thorough. Have a good day at work, Mrs. Williams." The line went dead. Evie stood there, trembling, a cold dread mixing with a strange sense of security. Corporate security? What kind of 'guy who got lucky in the market' had a legal team that could move that fast, that ruthlessly? It felt like a tank had been used to kill a fly. She opened the Enigma app. Thank you, she typed. You saved me. Go to work, Gus replied instantly. Don't be late. I hear the traffic on 5th is bad. Evie smiled, wiping a tear from her cheek. He was watching. It should have been creepy, but after Darrin... it felt like a warm blanket. She took a taxi to the studio. The HR manager, a woman with cat-eye glasses, stared at the lump under Evie's shirt where the ring was, but didn't say anything. "Welcome to the team, Everleigh," she said. "Your desk is in the back. The newbie corner." Evie walked to the back. Kerry, a senior photographer with a reputation for eating assistants alive, looked her up and down. "So you're the charity case," she sneered. "Heard you got in on a portfolio waiver." "I got in on merit," Evie said, setting down her bag. "We'll see," Kerry smirked. "Hope your skills are better than your outfit." Evie sat down, ignoring her. She started organizing her lenses. Suddenly, the studio door burst open. The owner, Mr. Henderson, ran in, sweating. "Emergency! Miss Sterling is here early! She wants a portrait session now. But Marco is stuck in the Lincoln Tunnel!" The room went silent. Miss Sterling. The heiress. The most difficult client in New York. "I need a photographer!" Henderson yelled. "Who's free?" No one moved. Everyone knew Sterling ate photographers for breakfast. Evie stood up. Her legs were shaking, but her hands were steady. "I'll do it," she said. Kerry laughed. "You? The newbie? You'll destroy the studio's reputation in five minutes." Evie looked at Henderson. "Give me ten minutes. If she hates it, you can fire me." Henderson looked desperate. "Fine. You're up. Don't screw this up."