The Cold CEO's Unwanted Genius Wife Novel Cover

The Cold CEO's Unwanted Genius Wife

8.3 / 10.0
I stood in the darkest corner of the Pierre Hotel’s ballroom, my cheap polyester dress itching against my skin while my wristband buzzed with a DARPA Priority Red alert. In front of the city’s elite, my fiancé Bryce Calloway took the stage, not to toast our future, but to publicly end our engagement and announce he was with my sister, Chloe. The room turned on me instantly, a hundred pairs of eyes pinning me down with pity and disgust as they physically backed away like I was contagious. When I returned home, my mother shattered a crystal vase at my feet, screaming that I was a humiliation and a "dropout" who didn't deserve a cent of the family fortune. Chloe and Bryce mocked me, laughing when I told them I had a mission with the National Security Agency, convinced I was either a pathological liar or a low-level criminal. They watched in horror as a black, unmarked military helicopter descended on our backyard to extract me, yet they still chose to believe I was being arrested for drug trafficking. They saw a pathetic girl who couldn't even parallel park, never realizing I was Dr. Nova Vance, the lead physicist behind the world's first successful fusion reactor. To secure funding for my research and gain a "fortress" of a name, I signed a thirty-day marriage contract with the arrogant billionaire Roman Knight. He treats me like a fraud, convinced I’m a gold-digger who failed out of college, while I quietly run global energy simulations from his guest bedroom. He has no idea that the "loser" he’s forced to live with is the same anonymous grandmaster who has been ruthlessly crushing him in online strategy games for months. "The contract is active," I told him, looking past his expensive suit. "But don't expect me to be your maid."

The Cold CEO's Unwanted Genius Wife Chapter 1

Nova stood in the darkest corner of the Pierre Hotel's grand ballroom, her thumb tracing the rubber edge of her wristband. It looked like a twenty-dollar fitness tracker, the kind you bought at a drugstore checkout. It was the only thing on her body that didn't itch. The black dress she wore was polyester, stiff and unbreathable, bought off a clearance rack three seasons ago.

A sharp vibration buzzed against her radial artery.

She didn't look up. She tilted her wrist slightly, shielding the screen with her body.

DARPA: Priority Red.

Her pulse didn't jump. It steadied. This was familiar. This was solvable. The chaos of a social gala was not.

She tapped the side of the bezel. Short. Long. Short.

Standby.

The chandeliers overhead dimmed, plunging the room into a manufactured twilight. A single, aggressive spotlight cut through the darkness, hitting the center stage. The feedback of a microphone squealed, making half the room wince.

Bryce Calloway stepped into the light.

He looked perfect. His tuxedo fit him like a second skin, expensive and tailored. Hanging off his arm, draped in shimmering silver silk, was Chloe Sterling. Nova's sister. Or rather, the daughter of the people who had tolerated Nova's existence for the last twelve years.

Chloe looked down, feigning a shyness that Nova knew she had never felt in her life.

"Thank you all for coming," Bryce's voice boomed, smooth and practiced. "Tonight is about charity, yes. But it is also about honesty."

The room went silent. The clinking of silverware stopped.

Bryce took a breath. He looked solemn. He looked like a man about to deliver bad news with the utmost bravery.

"It is with a heavy heart," he said, "that I must announce the end of my engagement to Nova Sterling."

A ripple of gasps moved through the room like a wave. Whispers hissed behind manicured hands.

"Love cannot be forced," Bryce continued, turning his gaze to Chloe. "And sometimes, the heart finds its true north in the most unexpected places. I am proud to announce that Chloe and I are together."

Chloe looked up then, eyes glistening with practiced tears. She leaned her head on his shoulder. It was a tableau of romantic victory.

Then, Bryce's gaze swept the room, deliberately finding her in the shadows. He gestured vaguely in her direction.

The crowd followed his line of sight. Their heads turned in unison, a hundred pairs of eyes hunting her down until she was pinned by their collective stare.

She raised a hand as if to shield her eyes, the sudden attention as stinging as any physical light.

The guests around her scrambled back. They moved as if she were contagious, leaving her isolated in a circle of empty parquet floor. The silence was heavy, thick with judgment and pity.

"Nova," Bryce said from the stage. His voice was patronizing, dripping with fake sympathy. "I hope you can understand. We didn't want to hurt you, but we couldn't live a lie."

Nova lowered her hand. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the glare of a hundred judgmental stares.

Her wristband vibrated again. Harder this time. A continuous, urgent buzz that traveled up her forearm.

Code Black: Extraction Team En Route. T-Minus 3 Minutes.

She stared at the stage. She saw Bryce's mouth moving, but the words were just noise. She saw Chloe's triumphant smirk hidden behind a tissue.

Nova felt nothing. No heartbreak. No anger. Just the cold, mathematical calculation of distance and time.

She looked blank. To the room, she looked devastated. Shell-shocked.

"Sister," Chloe said into the microphone, her voice trembling. "I am so sorry. We just fell in love."

Nova finally spoke. Her voice wasn't loud, but in the dead silence of the room, it carried.

"Are you done?"

Bryce frowned. The script was going off the rails. She was supposed to cry. She was supposed to run.

"Nova," he warned.

"Good," she said. She looked at the digital readout on her wrist. Two minutes. "The ring is at the coat check. Pick it up yourself."

She turned on her heel.

"Nova!" Bryce shouted, his ego bruised by her lack of a scene. "Don't walk away from me!"

She didn't break stride. She moved with a precision that didn't match the clumsy, unwanted girl they thought they knew. She pushed through the heavy side doors, leaving the light and the noise behind.

The moment the door clicked shut, the heavy bass of the music muffled to a dull thud.

Nova pressed a finger to her ear, activating the comms unit disguised as a pearl earring.

"Asset is clear," she said, her voice dropping an octave, stripping away the hesitation. "Initiate extraction."

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