Flash-Married My Mysterious Mogul Husband-1
Chapter 3

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With her back to Helene, Freya gossiped without a care in the world. She was so animated as she said, “You know, back when Helene was in college, she had an affair with one of the profs. I heard she got him to help her out with her thesis so that she could graduate.” 

“Wow,” one of the girls groaned sourly. “I guess she can thank her parents for those looks.” 

“I have to admit she’s pretty. She’s a fox who knows how to use her looks to get what she wants,” Freya replied bitterly. 

“If she’s able to, who’s going to stop her? All the power to her, I guess. I heard her boyfriend is quite the looker too. Wasn’t he one of your classmates?” 

“Hmph,” Freya scoffed proudly. “Are you talking about Diego? He’s my boyfriend now.” 

Suddenly, the receptionist was interested. “Wait, what? When did that happen? So Helene got dumped?” 

“Someone sounds happy about it,” Helene suddenly spoke up once she was close enough, watching as the two of them. jumped upon hearing her. 

“I swear you’re a ghost. You walk around without making a single sound. You nearly scared me to death,” Freya said in exasperation, though her expression was blank. 

“Freya, if you have time to sit around and talk, why don’t you 

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help Diego send out his resume? You won’t be able to support him and stay afloat on your own with how much you make.” 

Though Freya and Helene were classmates in college, Helene had been treasurer of their company for a while. Freya, on the other hand, hadn’t moved up the corporate ladder and 

worked as a nameless accountant. She made much less money, to say the least. 

And even then, Helene still worked two other jobs to support the two of them. She handed out brochures and flyers part- time on weekends and also worked as a model at an advertising agency. This was primarily because Diego’s expenses were far from low. He spent his days messing about and buying luxury goods. And at night, he could be found at expensive bars burning money stacks at a time. 

Helene wasn’t feeling so kind as to tell Freya about this, 

however. 

Thinking that she had found herself a goldmine, Helene’s mocking tone sounded like nothing more than jealousy to Freya. So she smiled contemptuously and replied, “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. You see, the Bamford Group has already called Diego in for an interview. The Bamford Group. I’m sure you’ve heard of them. They’re a massive company, and his starting salary will be just under six figures.” 

Freya held out six fingers and pretended to count, waving her hands in front of Helene’s eyes. 

“Well? Are you jealous yet?” 

“You’re such a child,” Helene scoffed, walking past Freya and returning to her office. 

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As she neared, she noticed a large pile of unprocessed documents on her desk. 

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“Aren’t the accountants supposed to handle these ledgers? Why are they on my desk?” Helene asked her assistant, who sat nearby. 

“About that… Mr. Allen told me that since Freya isn’t feeling too well these days, he wanted you to do it instead,” The assistant replied. 

Helene was so enraged that her voice was seething. “Oh? I’ll do them alright.” she slammed the folder against the desk, sending documents and invoices flying to the floor. 

This wasn’t the first time this had happened, though Helene had looked past these incidents at first. She didn’t know Freya was so scheming, but now she felt stupid to let her come so close regardless. She treated Freya as her best friend, not knowing that she had welcomed a wolf into her house. 

That day, Helene was so busy that she couldn’t even find the time to take a sip of water, let alone eat. And when she got home that night, she was so exhausted that it took everything she had just to rip open a pack of instant ramen. 

Then she went on a video call with her grandma. As it turned out, her grandma didn’t know about the cancer yet. Doctor’s orders. Helene had no choice but to downplay her grandma’s illness and simply told her to do whatever the doctors asked. She also made sure to tell her grandma not to worry about how much the treatment would cost. 

Understanding how busy Helene always was with work, her grandma took some time to comfort her as well, telling Helene not to worry about her illness. 

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Helene wanted to tell her grandma about her new marriage, the words nearly slipping out several times throughout their conversation, but she swallowed them each time. 

The next morning, Helene could feel a fever starting and her body ached. She asked for leave and spent a few hours taking care of herself. By noon, she was starting to feel better, so she began to pack her things that evening to move into the Bamford family’s house. 

The thought of sharing a bed with a stranger filled Helene with anxiety. 

Then, evening came. Helene had packed all her belongings into a set of luggage and headed to the address Carlisle had sent her earlier in the day. She was to find her way to a house: 88 Highrise Hideaway. 

Highrise Hideaway was the nickname for a stretch of road in an old residential area in the city. The road itself was narrow at the start of this area, filled with pedestrians, bikes, mopeds, and any other form of transportation other than cars. 

Helene dragged her luggage behind her, stumbling from exhaustion as she slowly walked. She asked a few of the locals about this address she had been given, but no one knew where it was. After her third failed attempt, she felt as if she had lost her way. 

The farther she walked, the cleaner the area became. The houses became more elegant, and the atmosphere somehow screamed luxury. Not to mention how spacious the roads had become. Most places had grand private garages that looked more like showrooms. 

But where was 88? 

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After asking a few more people, the only advice she was given was to keep walking further into The Highrise Hideaway. Her hopes were beginning to dim as she was nearing the end of the road, and she had no choice but to call Carlisle. 

But no matter how many times she called, no one answered. Eventually, she turned off her phone in frustration. Helene was anxious and angry. What happened to this man? 

He told her to move here, refused to pick her up at her place, and now she was lost. He wouldn’t even answer a call now. Suddenly feeling lightheaded, Helene squatted on the curb. It was made of textured stone that separated the road from the impeccably kept lawns and gardens. She didn’t know how long she had waited, but eventually, she caught sight of a pair of headlights approaching. 

Looking up, she saw Carlisle getting out of his car, the backlight turning him into nothing more than a silhouette. Though she wanted to get up, she had been sitting for so long that her legs had gone numb and she fell forward as soon as she got up. 

Bracing herself for the impact, Helene opened her eyes and realized that it had never come. Instead, she had found herself in Carlisle’s strong arms. 

“Thank you,” Helene said sheepishly. 

“Why didn’t you just walk in?” 

“I have no idea where I’m supposed to go.” 

“Oh? So you were the one calling me all night?” Carlisle asked. He was in a meeting with an executive earlier, and he had 

turned off his phone to keep it from distracting him as the 

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calls continued to pile in. 

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“Yeah, that was me! Why didn’t you answer?” Helene barked, somewhat annoyed. She remarked to herself how incredibly unassuming he could be. 

“Let’s head in,” Carlisle insisted without much more 

explanation, taking out the key and walking toward the house opposite Helene. 

This was the place? Helene glanced at the house behind her and found the number 88 had been partially blocked by foliage. 

Carlisle opened the door and an older woman, about fifty years old, came out to greet him in the foyer. 

“Matilda, is Grandpa asleep yet?” 

“Not yet. He insisted he’d wait for you to come home first.” 

Carlisle strode through the door, not noticing Helene struggling to drag her luggage behind her. The steps were steep, and Helene had exhausted all her strength. She didn’t even have it in her to lift her luggage a single step. 

She looked up and noticed a big, outstretched hand. Carlisle quickly took the suitcase from Helene and brought it inside for her. It was a small gesture, but it touched her nonetheless. She wasn’t used to being treated like this. Diego hadn’t ever helped her before. 

When she had moved into her apartment, he didn’t lift a 

single finger as she hauled seven or eight large boxes upstairs all on her own. And even then, he claimed that she was lazy. Apparently, she hadn’t done a good enough job cleaning the 

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place, though it wasn’t like he’d ever help. All he cared about was messing around and bothering her to order takeout. 

“So? Are you coming in?” Carlisle asked, a hint of impatience in his voice. 

Helene stepped into the foyer and turned to look past the door. She walked back out into the yard, wanting to look around a bit more before heading inside. The lawn wasn’t too big, but it was neat and clean. Various potted plants lined the walls and path to the door. 

Just then, Helene suddenly made a panicked sound and her legs buckled. She was so tired that as she was looking at one of the plants, her foot dragged and caught on a small stone jutting out of the path. She nearly fell down but caught 

herself. 

Carlisle looked at her concernedly, prompting her to wave a hand at him awkwardly. “I’m fine.” 

He looked at the pebbles littered over the path and walked over to kick them aside. Then, he held out his hand, slender and defined at every joint. Faint calluses could be seen on his skin, most likely left by years of fitness training. 

Helene couldn’t tell what he was trying to do. 

Carlisle pursed his lips and decided to take the initiative, grabbing hold of Helene’s hand. The warmth from his palm made her heart skip a beat, the current of heat making its way through her body and pouring into her heart. 

Carlisle handed Helene’s luggage to Matilda and led Helene to the door to his Grandpa’s room. 

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