The Scumbag CEO's Secret Genius Wife

Thunder cracked outside, shaking the windowpanes.

The room was dark, lit only by a single lamp.

Kristopher pointed to the left side of the massive King bed. "You sleep there. Stay on your side. If you cross the center line, there will be consequences."

Eleonora grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest. She lay down on the very edge of the mattress, balancing precariously.

Kristopher lay down on the right. He lay on his back, hands folded over his stomach like a corpse.

Minutes ticked by.

Eleonora couldn't sleep. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a hollow ache.

She shifted. The mattress moved.

"Stop moving," Kristopher said from the dark.

"I can't help it. I'm not used to... this."

CRACK-BOOM.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the room in stark blue-white.

Eleonora gasped and curled into a ball, pulling the duvet over her head.

Kristopher turned his head. "Are you afraid of thunder?"

"No," came the muffled reply. "It's just loud."

Another boom. The bed shook with Eleonora's trembling.

Kristopher sighed. It was a heavy, long-suffering sound.

He sat up. He grabbed a remote and pressed a button. The heavy blackout curtains slid shut, sealing out the flashes. He pressed another button. The sound of ocean waves filled the room, drowning out the rain.

Eleonora peeked out from the duvet.

Kristopher lay back down and turned away from her. "Go to sleep."

Eleonora stared at his broad back. The tension in her shoulders loosened.

She drifted off.

But sleep brought the old dreams. The basement. The cold. The noise.

In her sleep, she sought warmth. It was a biological imperative.

She rolled.

She crossed the center line.

Kristopher was awake. He felt the dip in the mattress. Then, he felt a warm, soft weight press against his side.

Eleonora's arm draped over his waist. Her head nuzzled into his shoulder.

Kristopher froze. Every muscle in his body went rigid.

He reached down to push her away.

"Please," she mumbled in her sleep. "Don't turn off the light."

His hand hovered over her arm.

He smelled her shampoo. Vanilla and honey. It was the same shampoo the maids stocked in his bathroom.

He didn't push her.

Slowly, tentatively, he lowered his arm. He let her stay.

The warmth of her body seeped into his side, thawing a cold spot he hadn't realized was there. For the first time in months, the racing thoughts in his head slowed down.

He closed his eyes.