My CEO husband is a player and he thinks I am not his type

Episode 3: Share My Bedroom

His cousin came on a Tuesday.

I was in the garden, trying to keep busy, pulling weeds that didn’t need pulling. Anything to avoid sitting alone in that huge house.

When I heard the gates open, I looked up.

A black car pulled in, and out stepped him.

Lucas Villa.

Handsome.

Kind eyes that actually looked at you.

Loving smile that reached his face.

The complete opposite of Tyson.

He saw me first. In my plain dress and apron, hair tied up, hands dirty.

And he smiled. Like I was actually someone worth smiling at.

“Freedom?” he said, walking over. “You must be my cousin’s wife. I’ve heard so much about you.”

He didn’t scan me up and down.

He didn’t see "chubby" or "poor" or "collateral".

He saw me.

“Lucas,” I whispered. “It’s nice to meet you.”

For the next two days, he showed me kindness I didn’t know I needed.

He held the door for me at breakfast.

He asked me about my favorite food and actually remembered I said jollof rice.

He laughed at my jokes. Real laughs, not polite ones.

He taught me how to play chess in the library and let me win once.

He made me feel like I belonged in his class.

Like I wasn’t just a contract in a dress.

His family loved watching us talk.

“Lucas is so good with people,” his mom said at dinner, squeezing my hand under the table. “You two get along so well, Freedom.”

His little sister passed me extra dessert. “Lucas, bring Freedom to the mall with us tomorrow?”

For the first time since I came to this house, I felt warm.

I felt... human.

Until Tyson walked in on day 3.

His face went dark the second he saw me laughing at something Lucas said in the living room.

Lucas was showing me photos from his trip. I was leaning over his shoulder, smiling.

Tyson stopped in the doorway.

He didn’t say anything at dinner.

He didn’t say anything after.

But that night, at 11pm, he knocked on my guest room door.

Three hard knocks.

“Pack your things,” he said when I opened it. Cold. No emotion.

“What?”

“You heard me. You’re moving to my bedroom.”

My stomach dropped. “Why?”

“Because I said so,” Tyson snapped. “And because you need to be reminded how to behave since you are married.”

I crossed my arms. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“Weren’t you?” He stepped closer. I could smell his cologne. “Stop flirting with my cousin, Freedom.”

“I wasn’t flirting!” My voice cracked. “He was just being nice to me. Something you’ve never—”

“Don’t,” Tyson cut me off. His jaw clenched. “Rule number 3. Act like a married woman. So until Lucas leaves, you sleep in my room. Where a wife belongs.”

I stared at him. “You’re punishing me because someone was kind to me?”

“I’m protecting you,” he said, but it didn’t sound like protection. It sounded like anger. “And protecting my family name. Now move.”

He walked out before I could answer, leaving the door open.

I stood there, heart pounding.

Lucas was kind. Lucas made me feel seen.

But Tyson… Tyson was my husband. The man who kissed another woman in front of me.

And now I had to share a bedroom with him.

Share his bed. His space. His air.

One year.

I have one year of this.

God help me.

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