SNATCHED FROM HER WORTHLESS HUSBAND

MICHAEL

It is said that every experience has its first occurrence.

First love.

First heartbreak.

The moment you understand your body has forsaken several years of meticulous discipline by reacting to a woman you've known for precisely seventeen minutes.

I woke up at three a.m. in a frenzied state, not due to a nightmare - but due to something more terrifying. I experienced an erection.

Not only the morning variety. No. This was... intentional."" Emotional. A breathing slap to all the years living like a monk.

All I could see was her face.

Aliana Blake.

By nine a.m., I found myself in my doctor's office, much like a man anticipating his verdict.

Dr. Ethan Cole - a lifelong companion, Harvard alumnus, devilish in a white coat - reclined in his chair, staring at me.

"Let me clarify this," he spoke deliberately, holding back a smile. "You arrived here due to having an erection?"

I frowned. "Don't say it that way."

He leaned his head. "How am I supposed to say it, then?" "'Congratulations, your reproductive system has restarted after sleeping for a decade?'"

"I'm not joking, Ethan."

"Oh, I am aware you are not." "That's what makes this so enjoyable." He laughed softly as he opened my file. "Michael Hamilton, thirty-three years old, CEO, suffers from chronic insomnia, emotionally repressed, and now... biologically awakened." "Explain to me once more why this is an issue?"

"Since it's illogical," I retorted. "I've never responded to anyone in that manner."

He lifted an eyebrow. "And this 'anyone' refers to-?"

I paused. "A woman who submitted a job application yesterday."

He let out a soft whistle. "Wow, Mike." You've finally developed feelings - or at least increased blood flow - for an employee?"That's an emotional remark, even coming from you."

"It's not emotions," I whispered. "It's a disruption in chemicals." "I want the tests run on me."

Ethan's eyes fluttered. "Tests."

"Yes. Hormonal substances. Lab tests. "Brain scans if needed."

He inclined forward, placing his elbows on the table. "You believe a woman gave you... what, a hormonal illness?"

"I'm serious, Ethan."

He looked at me for a second - then suddenly started laughing. "Oh my gosh, you really mean it!"

I stared fiercely. "You're supposed to be a healthcare expert."

"I am. That's why I'm diagnosing you with your initial case of being human.

"Stop being foolish."

"Michael," he remarked, drying his tears, "you've claimed for years that you were asexual. You turned down every date, evaded every headline, and frightened every woman within a hundred-mile area. Now a beautiful stranger enters, and your-" he motioned subtly toward my waist "-system reactivates, and your immediate reaction is to request a CAT scan?"

"Yes."

He chuckled while shaking his head. "You're hilarious."

I folded my arms. "Are you conducting the tests or not?"

"Oh, I'm conducting them." "I'm also preserving this tale for your biography."

An hour later, I found myself on the exam table as a nurse collected samples as if I were trying out for a medical mystery series. Ethan sang happily next to her.

"You know," he remarked, "your folks are going to enjoy this."

I became motionless. "Why are you discussing my parents?"

"They have been convinced for years that you have a chemical defect."

"I'm not defective. " "I am productive."

"They forwarded your hormone panels to me biannually," he reminded me. "They pleaded with me to discover a remedy for your 'disdain for love.'" "Last spring, your mom even sent a specialist in fertility to my office."

"I terminated his employment."

"I know." You also prohibited him from all hospitals within a fifty-mile radius.

"He violated confidentiality."

"He inquired whether you possessed any soft furnishings." "You made a threat to take legal action against him."

"Precisely," I replied monotonously. "Improper behaviour."

Ethan smiled. "The point is - if your parents discover you've ultimately... replied, they'll celebrate with a parade."

"They aren't finding out about it."

"Come on, Mike, allow me to call them." Only a single call. I will inform them that their son, in fact, is not a robot."

"No."

"Could you please agree?"

"No."

He let out a theatrical sigh. "You're ruining the best day of my professional life."

"Do the damn tests."

Upon receiving the results, he gazed at the papers as if they were a script for a comedy show.

"Is there something wrong?" I insisted.

He glanced upward, beaming quite broadly. "You're in excellent health."

"I was aware of that."

"Testosterone levels within normal range, hormone equilibrium perfect, neurological reactions acute." "Michael, you aren't ill."

I breathed out. "Alright."

"Actually..." He grinned. "You're irritatingly well." "Such as, maximum masculinity intensity."

"Stop speaking."

"I refuse." You've been lacking spirit for ten years, and now you're-" he clicked his fingers "-ready to go.

"Ethan."

"Allow me this, Mike." Are you aware of how many years I've had to deceive your parents about your 'mental abstinence'? "Your mother once inquired whether you were secretly a monk."

"She's theatrical."

"She wept on the phone last Christmas since you told her that relationships are unproductive."

"They are."

He gestured towards me with pretend blame. "Nevertheless, efficiency has just resigned due to a woman."

I massaged my temples. "You're unbearable."

He reclined, feeling pleased with himself. "Now, share with me your thoughts on her."

"Not at all."

"Come on now." "I am entitled to at least a name."

"You will get nothing."

"Alright," he replied, feigning a pout. "I'll simply conclude on it." You mentioned she applied for a position. Thus, she is intelligent. "Self-assured enough to endure an interview with you, which limits it to... three individuals globally."

I disregarded him.

He persisted, unshaken. "Does she have blonde hair?" Dark-haired? "Respiration?"

"Stop making assumptions."

"Is there a pulse present?"

"Ethan."

He chuckled. "Alright, alright." "Out of curiosity regarding the medical aspect - did this... incident occur right after you saw her, or was it afterwards?"

I stared harshly. "At once."

"Oh wow!" He smiled broadly. "It's visual, then." "That's an improvement."

"Ethan."

"Okay," he repeated, raising his hands. "I'll stop the teasing." "But, dude-" he laughed "-you're totally in trouble."

I scowled. "Watch your tongue, bro."

"I'm not implying anything disrespectful. Hear me out." He leaned in, smiling. "You've spent your entire life without experiencing attraction." Now it's struck you like a runaway train. "You're not prepared for this."

"I'm handling it."

"You're losing control."

"I'm handling things effectively."

"Mm-hmm." He folded his arms. "What's your strategy, then?" "Dismiss her before your biology starts to revolt?"

"I have already employed her."

He became immobile. "You did what?"

"I employed her."

"Mike!" He moaned. "You're beyond help." "You're essentially residing in a romantic comedy crafted by a tax inspector."

"I needed an accountant," I replied defensively.

"You needed therapy."

"Which I possess." You. Regrettably.

He made a snorting sound. "Glad to help."

Ethan was not mistaken.

I wasn't prepared for this.

When I exited his office, my mind felt like a war zone of reasoning and strange warmth. I had dedicated my life to mastering control - of my business, my reputation, and my instincts. Attraction was sound; I didn't engage with sound.

Up until her.

Aliana Blake entered my office yesterday, calm and collected, and somehow shattered all that I had created. It wasn't solely her beauty - although, undeniably, she was breathtaking. It was her calmness. Her gaze pierced me as if she could see beyond the shield that others revered.

It wasn't yearning precisely - it was intrigue tinged with risk.

And it seems my body chose to perceive that as fireworks.

I returned to the office, disregarding Ethan's messages.

ETHAN: Alright, I'll hold off for a week.

I silenced him.

Upon getting back to work, disregarding Ethan's constant messages:

ETHAN: Just verifying if you're still around or if she did you in with a spreadsheet.

ETHAN: Is it time to send a baby announcement to your parents?

ETHAN: Alright, I'll hold on for a week.

I silenced him.

Upon entering my office, my elderly assistant, Lydia, was organizing the mail. She halted when she noticed me. "Sir, you're... ahead of schedule."

"Was I required to seek approval?"

"N-no, I just- you typically come after ten."

"I was accompanied by Dr. Cole."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Oh. "Concerns about health?"

"Biological perplexity," I whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't worry about it." "Has Mrs. Blake arrived yet?"

Lydia glanced. "Mrs. Blake... your recent recruit?"

"Yes."

"She's located in Conference Room Two." "Examining account books."

I nodded and began to stroll, disregarding the light thump in my chest. It wasn't anxiety. It was an upset stomach, at least I hope so.

Upon arriving at the glass door, I hesitated. She sat there - hair tied back, attentive, elegant. She was drawing shapes on a tablet, her lips moving as she silently computed.

No cosmetics, no facade. Simply serene intellect.

For some reason, my heartbeat chose to practice for a marathon.

Wonderful.

She glanced up and saw me observing.

"Mr. Hamilton," she exclaimed, rising hurriedly. "Good morning."

"Good morning," I remarked, my tone completely even. "How is your experience on the first day going?"

"Demanding," she acknowledged. "However... fine."

"Great."

Silence...

She looked at the folder she was holding. "The company's financial division is remarkable." I'm still outlining the business expenditures, but your documentation is-"

She stopped once she noticed I wasn't paying attention. I was too occupied gazing. Her voice was soft and distinct, and the type that made numbers resonate like poetry.

I coughed gently. Sure, that's the term."

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Okay," I nodded. "Alright- good."

She nodded, going back to her tasks, and I understood something frightening: I wished to continue listening to her discussion of costs.

I exited the room to avoid doing something foolish, such as smiling.

When I returned to my office, Lydia was offering a file. "Sir, Dr. Cole is on the line."

I sighed. "What does he want?"

"He stated - and I quote - 'Inform Michael that his tests confirm he's a completely capable adult male and his parents can stop submitting his baby pictures to science.'"

I shut my eyes. "I'm going to kill this idiot."

"There's additional information," she remarked, concealing a smile. "He further remarked, 'If he refuses to allow me to contact his parents, let him know I'll disclose his results to the media with the title: BILLIONAIRE UNCOVERS BLOOD FLOW.'"

I whispered a curse. Lydia attempted to suppress her laughter.

"Delete all messages from him," I instructed. "Block his number."

"Yes, sir."

"Also, send a legal notice to him."

"Have it already written."

I nearly smiled. "Excellent."

By lunchtime, Ethan had phoned six times. I eventually responded because I realized he would appear in person if I didn't.

"Please don't disconnect," he said right away. "I only need thirty seconds."

"You have ten."

"I simply wanted to inform you that your outcomes have been stored in your medical record with the designation 'Miracle of 2025.'"

"Remove it."

"Not ever."

"Ethan-"

"Additionally, your mother reached out to me."

I became motionless. "What did you say?"

"She was curious to find out if I had received any news from you." "I might have... suggested that there's positive information."

My heart rate surged. "You did not."

"She was in tears, Mike."I was unable to resist."

"Ethan!"

"She believes you've met someone!"

"I'm ending the call."

"Do not even think about it!" She is organizing a family meal.

"Goodbye."

"Mike-"

Press.

I flung my phone onto the desk, breathing out through gritted teeth.

This was going downhill.

That night, I caught myself walking back and forth in my penthouse, a half-full glass of scotch in my grip, revisiting every word Aliana spoke that morning.

Why on earth did those words seem to imply something deeper?

I looked at the mirror. My image appeared unchanged - pristine suit, calm expression, eyes overly perceptive. Yet within me something had shattered.

Perhaps Ethan was correct. Perhaps I wasn't broken merely.....experiencing lust.

However, attraction was not included in the plan. I didn't engage in chaos. I created structure, accuracy, and organization and she is chaos itself.

Still, for the very first time in my life, I desired chaos- the sort of chaos she brought.

My phone vibrated. A message from Ethan.

ETHAN: Just one more thing. If your "condition" deteriorates, contact me before you make any foolish decisions.

I responded: Clarify what you mean by stupid.

ETHAN: Anything related to emotions.

I grinned. Sure thing.

Yet, as I switched off the lights and looked at the skyline, I found it hard to forget Aliana's voice - peaceful, unwavering, completely distinct from everyone else's.

Throughout my entire existence, I had existed like a machine, impervious to longing or love. I had persuaded myself that I was unaffected.

Yet at that moment, a single meeting had shattered that illusion for one woman.

Perhaps Ethan would see it as improvement.

Perhaps my parents would refer to it as a miracle.

Perhaps I ought to reach out to a therapist.

Yet, beneath it all, I understood the reality:

I love this feeling, and I'd never let her go.