Transmigrated: The Bankrupt CEO's Unexpected Wife

Alek's eyebrows pulled together in a hard line. He looked her up and down as if she were a complete stranger.

He let out a harsh laugh. He planted both hands on the marble counter and leaned forward. His massive frame cast a shadow over her.

"What kind of game are you playing now?" he demanded.

Emma stepped back from the sheer force of his presence. The small of her back hit the cold edge of the kitchen cabinets.

She took a deep breath to steady her racing pulse. She looked straight into his eyes.

"You need someone to help manage your life right now," she stated evenly.

Alek looked at her like she had lost her mind. He stood up straight.

"You don't even know how to use the microwave," he mocked.

Heat rushed to Emma's cheeks. She pointed toward the spotless living room.

"I just cleaned the entire apartment," she argued.

Alek followed her finger. He stared at the clean room, his jaw clenched tighter. This level of order was beyond her. A calculated performance, but how? His eyes narrowed, scanning her for any clue.

He lost whatever little patience he had left. He pushed the pen closer to her edge of the counter.

"This is your last chance. My creditors will be at the door any minute," he warned.

Emma stared at the bank card. She knew the balance was only a few thousand dollars. If she took that money and left, she wouldn't survive a month in New York.

She reached out. Her hand went right past the expensive fountain pen. She grabbed the thick stack of divorce papers.

Alek's tense jawline relaxed slightly. He thought she was finally giving up.

Emma gripped the top of the pages. She pulled her hands apart with brutal force. The crisp sound of tearing paper ripped through the quiet kitchen. She ripped the agreement right down the middle.

Alek's pupils shrank. He stared in absolute shock as the torn pieces fluttered down onto the marble island like snow.

Emma kept tearing. She ripped the thick paper again and again until it was nothing but useless shreds. She completely cut off her own retreat.

She swept the pieces off the counter and into the trash can. She dusted off her hands and turned back to him.

"The marriage vows said for richer or for poorer," she said.

Alek stared at her. The vows hit him like a physical blow. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He just glared at her.

The heavy silence stretched between them. Then, a low, distinct rumble came from Alek's stomach.

A faint trace of red crawled up the back of Alek's neck. He quickly turned his back to her to hide the physical reaction.

Emma caught the subtle shift in his posture. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling.

"Let's go down to the convenience store and get something to eat," she suggested.

"I don't need your charity," Alek snapped coldly. He walked away from the kitchen and headed straight for the master bedroom.

Emma didn't try to stop him. She grabbed her phone and her coat and walked quickly to the entryway.

She slipped on a pair of flat shoes and pushed the front door open. The cold draft from the hallway hit her face and cleared her head.

She stepped into the elevator and watched the numbers drop. Her mind raced, calculating how to buy the most filling food with the tiny amount of change left on her phone.

Inside the master bedroom, Alek heard the heavy front door click shut. He immediately walked over to his security monitors and pulled up the hallway feed.

He watched Emma's back as she walked away without looking back. He let out a cold scoff. He was sure she couldn't handle the poverty and was running away.

He ripped his tie off his neck. He walked into the bathroom and stared at his exhausted reflection. He needed to plan his next move.

Emma walked into the 24-hour bodega down the street. She stood in front of the shelves, carefully comparing the prices of bread and eggs.

She grabbed a loaf of whole wheat bread, a carton of eggs, a pack of bacon, and a discounted jug of milk. She carried them to the register.

She used the digital wallet on her phone to pay. She watched the balance drop to nearly zero. A tight knot of anxiety formed in her stomach.

She carried the plastic bags out of the store. The freezing New York wind whipped through her thin coat. She wrapped her arms around herself and walked steadily back toward the apartment building.