After My Groom Gave Me to His Business Partner

Sunlight filtered through unfamiliar curtains, casting golden patterns across the bedspread. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was. Then reality crashed back—the engagement party, Caden's betrayal, and my hasty marriage to Elijah Bennett.

I sat up slowly, my body stiff from tension and unfamiliar surroundings. The Bennett estate guest suite was larger than my entire apartment had been, with antique furniture and oil paintings that probably cost more than most people's homes.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

"Come in," I called, pulling the covers up to my chin.

The door creaked open, revealing Elijah. He balanced a tray precariously in his hands, his blue eyes focused intently on not dropping it. A single flower—a violet from the garden—lay next to what appeared to be severely burnt toast.

"Morning," he said simply, offering me the tray.

I couldn't help but smile at the charred bread. "You made this?"

He nodded, pride evident in his expression. "I tried to make it like the picture."

"The picture?"

"In the book." He pointed to a cookbook on the floor beside him. "But the stove was too hot."

I reached for the flower instead, twirling it between my fingers. "This is beautiful."

"Pretty lady, no sad," he said suddenly, the words tumbling out with effort.

My breath caught. In all our years together, Caden had never once noticed when I was hurting. Yet here was Elijah, a man everyone dismissed as a child in an adult's body, offering comfort with such sincerity.

"Thank you," I whispered, meaning it more than he could know.

Elijah beamed, then sat heavily on the edge of the bed. He frowned down at his shoes—expensive loafers that looked perfectly polished except for the laces, which hung loose.

"Can you help?" he asked, lifting one foot.

I slid to the edge of the bed and took the laces from his fingers. "Sure."

As I tied his shoes, I noticed how he watched me with complete trust. There was no calculation in his eyes, no hidden agenda—just simple gratitude.

"You're kind," he said matter-of-factly.

"Am I?"

He nodded. "Kind people help others."

From somewhere in the house, I heard a phone ring, followed by hushed voices. One of them belonged to Mrs. Bennett's assistant—the one Caden had somehow gotten on his payroll. I knew without looking that someone was reporting back to him about this moment.

If only he could see it for what it was—not manipulation but connection.

---

The charity auction buzzed with Manhattan's elite, their jewelry catching light like predatory eyes in the darkness. I smoothed my simple black dress, wishing I could disappear into the wallpaper.

"Zelda."

Caden's voice froze me in place near the cloakroom. He looked impeccable in his tailored suit, not a hair out of place.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, though I already knew.

"Business," he replied smoothly. "And you?"

"Supporting the children's hospital," I said, lifting my chin. "Unlike some people who only show up for appearances."

His eyes narrowed. "Let's not make a scene."

"There's no scene to make." I turned to leave.

His hand caught my wrist. "Stop playing house with that... that retard."

The word hit me like a slap. "Don't you dare talk about him that way."

"It's temporary," Caden hissed, pulling me closer. "Come back to my apartment. We can work something out until the merger is done."

"Work something out?" I repeated incredulously.

"You can be my mistress," he said, as if offering me a gift. "Just until everything settles."

Before I could respond, a flash of crimson appeared beside us.

"Oh, how sweet," Phoebe cooed, her voice dripping with false concern. "The little couple having a tiff?"

Caden's grip tightened on my wrist. "Phoebe, not now."

She ignored him, stepping closer. "Zelda, darling, you look so... plain tonight."

With deliberate slowness, she tilted her wine glass. Red liquid cascaded down the front of my dress.

"How clumsy of me," she gasped, eyes wide with mock horror.

Camera flashes erupted around us. I felt myself shrinking, the old shame washing over me.

Then suddenly, Elijah was there, his body between mine and the photographers.

"No pictures," he said firmly, his voice carrying an authority I hadn't heard before.

His arm wrapped protectively around my shoulders as he guided me away from the flashing lights.

---

"Family business lunch," Caden had insisted, though we all knew it was just an excuse to corner me again.

Phoebe sat beside him at the private table, her fingers playing with her necklace as she spoke.

"I've been so worried about Elijah," she said, her voice honey-sweet with concern. "These medical reports..."

She slid papers across the table. I didn't touch them.

"What reports?" I asked cautiously.

"Unexplained bruising," she said, her eyes wide with false innocence. "On his arms. And elsewhere."

Caden's expression darkened. "Is that true?"

"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped. "He would never hurt anyone."

"I didn't say he hurt anyone," Phoebe replied softly. "I'm just concerned about what might be happening behind closed doors."

Caden's gaze hardened as he looked at me. "Is that why you married him? The Bennett fortune?"

"You think I'm abusing him for money?" I stood abruptly. "You really think that little of me?"

Phoebe leaned forward, her voice dropping to a poisonous whisper. "The staff has seen how he looks at you when you think no one's watching. Like a trapped animal."

I watched Caden's face change as he absorbed her words, his regret transforming into righteous anger.

"Get out," he said coldly.

I looked between them—Phoebe's satisfied smile, Caden's narrowed eyes—and realized I was fighting a battle I couldn't win.

Not yet, anyway.