The CEO’S Orphan Wife

“You didn’t wake me up,” Ivan muttered while gently caressing my back. I had just finished taking a bath, was wearing underwear, and had applied lotion to my thighs.

“You were sleeping so soundly, and it’s still early,” I reasoned, biting my lip as I felt his hands brushing against my skin. His body was still pressed against mine, and I could feel the subtle awakening of his masculinity.

He planted a kiss on my back, causing me to catch my breath. He gently kissed my skin, tracing his lips on my spinal cord. Consequently, my body tingled, but I tried to resist it.

I turned to face him and softly caressed both of his arms.

“Why don’t you take a shower so we can have breakfast?”

“Let’s stay here,” he grinned, his hand focused on my chest, even though I was wearing a bra.

“Your breasts are very beautiful, baby,” he said with a husky voice. “I want to touch, lick, and suck them.”

My entire body trembled at his words. Goodness, I never knew my husband could be this flirtatious!

I closed my eyes as a rush of naughty thoughts suddenly filled my mind. When I opened them, I smiled at him.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“You should take a shower… Let’s save that plan for later tonight,” I suggested, gazing at him while biting my lip.

“I don’t believe you,” he replied, giving me a skeptical look. “You’re probably thinking I won’t be able to do it later because I’ll be tired from our outing,” he concluded, with a challenging expression on his face.

I laughed. “You think too much! Come on, go and take a shower so we can head out. I’m getting hungry too.”

“Okay, wife. Don’t worry, even if we spend the whole day out, I’ll still have the energy for you later tonight.”

“We’ll see,” I chuckled and turned away to continue what I was doing. Maybe I’ll be enticed by his words later.

***

Ivan and I savored breakfast at a renowned restaurant here in Vietnam.

“We ordered an abundance of food,” I observed as the dishes were brought to our table. Every dish before me was unfamiliar, yet they all looked mouthwatering.

“We can certainly handle all of this; we’ll need the energy for later tonight, remember?” Ivan teased me.

I found myself unable to contain my laughter, and a deep blush crept over my face as I noticed that my mirth had drawn the gaze of fellow diners in the restaurant.

“You have such a beautiful laugh.”

I blushed at his compliment. I wasn’t accustomed to him showering me with praise and this level of attention.

“Flattered?” The corner of his lips curled up.

“I’m just not used to you being so sweet with me. Thank you, Ivan.”

In response, he stood up and surprised me with a sudden kiss on the lips.

Ivan, you’re amazing! How will I ever cope with this?

I was utterly sated, my breath labored by the overwhelming fullness. Consequently, we opted for a pause in our meal before departing the restaurant to resume our planned activities for the day.

“I’ll gain weight from all this,” I whispered as I gently rubbed my belly, gazing at the remnants of our meal.

“You’re still beautiful even if you’ve gained weight.”

I winced. “You’d probably dislike me even more once I gained weight.”

“Dislike you?” he repeated.

“Yes! I’ve been trying everything to make you like me, and now you’re making me gain weight?”

He laughed. “Who said I don’t like you?”

“You said-” I paused, a realization dawning as I considered his question. “Do you like me?”

A mischievous grin danced across his face, but he evaded answering my question directly.

“Come on, please, tell me. Do you have feelings for me now?” I pressed, my impatience evident.

My frustration grew as I received no response in return.

“If not, do you think you’d be here with me?” he finally replied, sensing my irritation.

“Really?” I questioned, still seeking clarity.

He remained silent, gently pinching my nose.

I felt a sense of joy in discovering his feelings, yet a lingering unease tugged at my chest. I couldn’t fully embrace happiness, aware that these moments were fleeting, and I wasn’t sure how long they would endure.

After thirty minutes, he made the decision to leave.

“I’ll use the restroom first,” I mentioned, before heading to the toilet to wash my hands.

As I approached the toilet stall, I could hear the sound of someone crying. Initially, it sent shivers down my spine, conjuring thoughts of scenes from horror movies. With a degree of caution, I peered through the open space in the cubicle door, catching a glimpse of the person’s feet. The woman inside was wearing high-top Converse shoes.

It didn’t appear to be a ghost, yet even after I had finished using the toilet, the sound of the person’s crying persisted. It wasn’t particularly loud, more akin to the cry of a woman grappling with a challenging situation, endeavoring to maintain her composure despite feeling vulnerable.

I had been in that position before, crying in the bathroom nearly every night while Ivan slept.

After applying lipstick and preparing to close my bag, the woman who had been crying came out of the cubicle. Our eyes met in the mirror before us.

Her eyes were swollen, and she was dressed in a t-shirt and a denim skirt that came just above her knees. She had fair skin, with some healing bruises visible on her arms. Her long hair framed an attractive, petite face.

With her palm, she wiped away her tears and proceeded to the faucet to wash her face.

From my bag, I retrieved the handkerchief and extended it toward her with a hint of uncertainty. However, she regarded the handkerchief with a skeptical gaze.

“It’s unused,” I mumbled in our local language.

“No- Oh, sorry. Take it. It’s-”

“Are you a Filipina too?” she asked in astonishment, responding to me in our local language as well.

“Yes, I am. Are you as well?” I replied with a smile. Her previously mournful expression brightened. I observed her as she used the handkerchief to dry her wet face.

“No matter how difficult life may be, and no matter how much pain you may endure, keep pushing forward and stay strong. Never give up.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she gazed at me.

“Thank you,” she said. “I needed someone to tell me that. I don’t have a family, and hearing those words from a stranger and a fellow woman is incredibly uplifting.”

“Do you want a hug?” I asked when I heard what she said. Her need for a reassuring embrace was palpable.

“Yes, please!” She let out a soft sob, prompting me to hug her tightly.

I asked, “May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

“I’m Candy.”

“Hello, Candy! I’m Myla. I’ll include you in my prayers from now on. You’re dearly loved by God.”

“Thank you, Myla!”

Both of us left the ladies’ room while Ivan was waiting impatiently outside.

“Hubby, I’d like you to meet Candy,” I introduced him with a warm smile.

Ivan extended his hand, and Candy hesitated briefly before shaking hands with my husband.

“Ivan,” he mumbled simply, his gaze briefly fixing on the bruises on Candy’s arms.

I sensed a shift in Candy’s demeanor; she

suddenly appeared anxious and uncomfortable.

“Shall we go?” Ivan asked, turning his attention to me.

“Where have you been?” We turned towards the man who suddenly spoke. A man with six companions behind him approached us. His face was stern, and anger emanated from his eyes as he glared at Candy.

“M-Morgan…” Candy stammered, her surprise, panic, and fear evident on her face.

“Morgan,” Ivan called out, his brow furrowing as he addressed the man.

As the man turned to my husband, the

seriousness melted from his face. “You’re here,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m here with my parents and my wife. How about you? What are you doing here? And who is she?” Ivan fired a series of questions at him, casting a glance at Candy, who remained silent with her head down.

“Nice to meet you,” Morgan said to me, extending his hand, seemingly ignoring Ivan’s inquiries.

I shook his hand.

“My wife, Myla… This is Morgan Reeves, one of my friends,” Ivan introduced us.

Much like Ivan, the man was handsome, with a robust build and standing two inches taller than my husband.

“And who is she?” Ivan inquired once more.

“Candy, a friend…”

Ivan raised an eyebrow, as though he doubted his friend’s words.

“We have to go now,” Morgan said, his expression once again becoming serious. He looked at Candy and nodded.

“Nice meeting you, Candy. I hope we can meet again,” I added.

Candy simply smiled and nodded in response before she and Morgan left the restaurant together.

“Is your friend really that wealthy?” I asked Ivan when I saw the numerous people accompanying Morgan. They had four SUVs; Morgan and Candy rode in one, while three other SUVs carried his uniformed associates.

“Yeah.”

“Is he wealthier than you?”

“Yup.”

“Wow!”

Ivan shot me an annoyed look. “Why? Are you interested in him?”

“What?” I replied, taken aback.

“Well, I just asked, that’s all,” I said with a playful tone, realizing his annoyance. “Oh my, Ivan, don’t tell me you’re jealous? I’ll throw a party if you are.”

His reaction remained unchanged, and he continued to stay silent.

“Are you really that jealous?” I chuckled in delight, gently holding his cheeks and planting a passionate kiss on his lips.

“You’re even getting jealous of your friend.”

“Come on, let’s take a stroll. Flash a smile for me, too.”

“I no longer feel like it,” he replied, pouting like a sulking child.

“Why not?”

“I’m just not in the mood anymore. Let’s head back to the hotel suite.”

“You’re being a bit unreasonable,” I said with a playful tap on the arm. “Let’s continue our tour.”

“I’m jealous,” he blurted out. It was as if my thoughts were caught in a temporary pause. Eventually, I resorted to a subtle eye-roll, attempting to suppress an emerging fit of laughter.

Really? Ivan, the tough and difficult one, is feeling jealous? It’s like my ears are celebrating what I just heard.

“Tsss! Why are you jealous when there’s nothing to be jealous of?” I took his hand, but he remained sullen.

“I’m jealous and horny.”

His words left me speechless.