Transmigrated: The Bankrupt CEO's Unexpected Wife

Emma pressed her ear closer to the heavy wood of the study door. The soundproofing muffled the words.

She only caught fragments. "...Level One..." "...medical records..." Her stomach tightened into a knot.

Alarm bells rang in her head. Medical records? Was he hiding a serious, life-threatening illness brought on by the immense stress of his sudden bankruptcy? Or was he secretly investigating someone else's past?

She raised her hand to knock, but heavy footsteps approached the door from the inside.

Emma panicked. She spun around and sprinted down the hall on her tiptoes. She grabbed her purse and slipped out the front door just as the study door swung open.

Alek stepped into the hallway. His sharp eyes scanned the empty space. He saw the front door slowly clicking shut.

He walked to the entryway. Her flat shoes were gone.

He instinctively reached to adjust his Patek Philippe watch, but remembered he had hidden it. He tapped the invisible earpiece in his ear. "Target is moving. Follow her," he ordered his security detail downstairs.

Emma walked out onto the busy street. The afternoon sun was blinding. She pulled her trench coat tighter and walked three blocks to the nearest Chase Bank.

Halfway there, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She felt eyes burning into her back. She whipped her head around. She saw nothing but tourists and businessmen.

She shook her head, blaming her paranoia, and walked into the bank.

She sat down in the VIP office. She handed over her ID. "I need to open a brand new checking account. Cut all ties to my previous accounts."

The banker typed quickly. Within twenty minutes, the funds from The RealReal were transferred into her new, secure account.

Emma stared at the five-figure balance on the printout. Her lungs expanded. She finally had a safety net in this crazy world.

She walked out of the bank. She passed a small florist on the corner. A bucket of bright yellow sunflowers caught her eye.

She thought about the depressing, cold, gray walls of the penthouse. She bought a large bouquet.

She walked to Whole Foods across the street. She bought two thick ribeye steaks and a bunch of asparagus.

Across the street, a man sat in a parked black sedan. He aimed a camera with a telephoto lens at her. He snapped photos of her holding the flowers and the groceries.

The photos instantly transmitted to Alek's encrypted phone.

Alek sat at his desk. He stared at the screen. He looked at the bright smile on Emma's face as she held the cheap sunflowers.

She didn't go to see a lover. She didn't go to a luxury spa. She opened a bank account and bought dinner.

Alek's thumb traced the edge of her smiling face on the glass screen. The massive wall of defense he had built around his heart crumbled a little more.

As the sun began to set, Emma pushed the apartment door open with her shoulder. Her hands were full of heavy bags.

Alek heard the noise. He walked out of the study. He saw the plastic handles digging into her red fingers. He immediately walked over and took the heavy bags from her.

Emma blinked in surprise. "Thank you," she smiled. She pulled the sunflowers out and dropped them into a glass vase on the living room table.

The bright yellow petals instantly brought life to the dead room.

Alek stared at the flowers. He watched her walk into the kitchen and start prepping the steaks. He swallowed hard.

He walked over to the kitchen island. He watched her sprinkle sea salt over the meat. "Where did you go today?" he asked quietly.

Emma didn't hesitate. She looked up at him. "I went to the bank. I opened a new account and deposited the money from the bags. It's our emergency fund."

Alek's pupils dilated. The word our hit him like a freight train. His heart clenched so tightly he couldn't breathe.