The Scumbag CEO's Secret Genius Wife

The silence in the car was heavier than the rain outside. Eleonora tried to check her phone, but the signal bars were empty. A jammer. Of course.

She looked at Kristopher. He had his eyes closed, his head resting against the leather seat. He looked peaceful, which was infuriating.

The car slowed. They passed through a massive wrought-iron gate. A long, winding driveway lined with ancient oaks led up to a house that looked more like a museum than a home.

The Schaefer Estate.

"Is this a hotel?" Chloe whispered.

Arthur, from the front seat, turned slightly. "This is the Schaefer family residence, Miss."

Eleonora felt a cold knot in her stomach. She was trapped.

The car stopped under the portico. A phalanx of staff with umbrellas waited.

Kristopher got out. He didn't look back. He walked up the stairs with the easy arrogance of a king entering his castle.

A footman opened Eleonora's door. "Madam."

Chloe's eyes went wide. "Madam?"

Eleonora gave her a look that said later. She stepped out into the humid night air.

They entered the foyer. It was cavernous, with a chandelier the size of a small car.

"Well, well. If it isn't the internet sensation."

The voice was sharp, cracking like a whip.

An elderly woman in a wheelchair rolled forward. Her silver hair was coiffed to perfection. She held an iPad in her lap.

"Grandmother," Kristopher said, pausing. "You should be asleep."

Beatrice Schaefer tapped the screen of her iPad. Eleonora's voice tinny and distorted, echoed in the marble hall. "This is a man who relies on other people's money..."

Beatrice cackled. "I haven't laughed this hard since your grandfather fell into the koi pond in '98."

Kristopher sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "She is destroying the company image, Grandmother."

"Oh, pish," Beatrice waved a hand. "The stock took a nosedive, but the trading volume is through the roof! People think you're relevant again. They think you have a scandalous personal life. It makes you human."

Eleonora stood there, dripping water onto the priceless rug. She didn't know whether to bow or run.

Beatrice beckoned her. "Come here, child."

Eleonora walked over. Beatrice grabbed her hand. Her skin was paper-thin but her grip was iron.

"You have guts," Beatrice said. "Kristopher needs someone with guts. He's become a bore."

"Grandmother," Kristopher warned.

"She's soaking wet!" Beatrice shouted at the staff. "Get her to the master suite. Draw a bath. Use the rose oil."

" The guest room," Kristopher corrected. "She is staying in the guest room."

Beatrice clutched her chest. She let out a dramatic gasp. "My heart... the palpitations... knowing my family is estranged under my own roof..."

Kristopher gritted his teeth. His jaw muscle jumped. He looked at the butler.

"Fine," he snapped. "The suite. The adjoining room."

Beatrice winked at Eleonora.

Eleonora was ushered up the grand staircase. She glanced back. Kristopher was watching her.

His eyes were dark. Predatory.

This isn't over, his look said.

Eleonora shivered, and it wasn't from the cold.