One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Monday morning arrived cloaked in nerves and the promise of change. Arielle stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, adjusting the hem of her blouse. It still didn’t quite feel real—that she was headed into a job at one of the most powerful companies in the country. That she would walk past executives and high-level assistants. That Damien Kingston, the man she’d once known in the most intimate way imaginable, was now her boss.
She tugged her blazer tighter and forced a steadying breath. She wasn’t doing this for him.
She was doing it for her kids.
The elevator doors slid open with a chime, and Arielle stepped onto the top executive floor with the poise of someone trying not to tremble. She passed the water feature in the lobby, gave a small nod to the receptionist, and walked past the glass wall etched with Damien’s name in silver.
She reached her desk just outside his office.
A new beginning.
Her email was already live. Instructions sat in her inbox. She had her schedule, her tasks, her codes. Everything was neat, structured, impersonal—except for the sharp, focused glances she could feel burning through the office walls.
Damien didn’t speak to her that morning.
But he watched.
His door stayed open just enough to catch glimpses of her at her desk. She could feel it—the weight of his scrutiny, the steady ticking of invisible questions. She made every move calculated. Efficient. Professional.
By noon, she’d responded to thirty-eight emails, scheduled five meetings, flagged three urgent memos, and had two cups of lukewarm coffee. But the real tension was in her spine. Not from the tasks—she could handle pressure.
It was knowing that he didn’t trust her.
And he was already digging.
From inside his office, Damien leaned back in his chair and tapped the pen against his lower lip. The sunlight filtering through the glass walls caught in his eyes, but his focus was on the digital file on his screen.
Arielle Summers.
He’d run a light background check the night after the interview. It was standard procedure for all high-level hires—especially anyone reporting directly to him. But her file didn’t sit right with him.
Too clean. Too vague.
No college degree. Spotty work history. A seven-year gap that simply read: “independent childcare.”
Single mother of eight. Octuplets.
His fingers hovered above the keyboard.
Most men would’ve seen that and dismissed it as unfortunate circumstance or admirable resilience.
But Damien wasn’t most men.
He’d built empires off instincts. And his instincts told him there was more to Arielle Summers than carefully chosen words on a resume.
He opened another tab. Authorized personnel. Internal resources. He typed in a request for a deeper investigation—nothing invasive, just a quiet audit. Educational history. Previous addresses. Emergency contacts.
Something didn’t add up.
And he hated loose ends.
Back at her desk, Arielle answered a call from a marketing lead with practiced calm. She took notes in neat handwriting, confirming a campaign date and transferring it to the executive calendar.
But her heart wasn’t on the call.
It was back in Damien’s office.
She hadn’t looked at him once that morning. Not directly. But she could feel his presence. The tension between them was like static in the air—charged, unspoken.
And somewhere deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before he started pulling threads.
Arielle closed her notebook and stared at her reflection in the black screen of her monitor.
She wasn’t just starting a job.
She was stepping into a lion’s den.
And she had eight very good reasons to keep every secret buried.