The CEO is a Spoilt Brat and He's My Husband

Betrayed by her fiancé and the sister she had been mourning for years, Elara walked out with nothing, leaving her only family behind. The last thing she expected that night was a contract marriage with Alexander Wynston... a CEO whose notorious behaviour was the talk of the city. It wasn't the fresh start she hoped for. His world came with enemies she wasn't prepared for and the most dangerous ones were inside his own family. As she pushes through them, buried secrets about her own identity surface. Secrets that powerful people would do anything to keep hidden. And the deeper she digs, the more dangerous it gets. What starts as the everyday nightmare of living with an arrogant CEO soon turns into something far more serious, where every truth she uncovers comes with a life-threatening consequences. *** Alexander leaned back in his chair and stared at the glass in front of him like it had personally wronged him. "This is warm." Elara glanced at the glass. "You got it two minutes ago." "And it's warm now." He pushed it forward without looking at her. "I don't repeat myself about things that should be obvious." She looked at him for a long second. This man ran a company worth billions. People cleared rooms when he walked in. And right now his entire mood had been ruined by the temperature of water. She picked up the glass, walked to the kitchen, came back with a new one, and set it down in front of him. Hard enough that a little water spilled over the side. He looked at the spill. Then at her. "Was that necessary?" "Tantrums?" She tilted her head. "Of course they're necessary. How else would a baby communicate?" She turned to leave, a small smile forming on her lips before she could stop it. His hand caught her wrist. One pull. That was all it took. She was on his lap before her brain caught up with her body. Her hand landed flat on his chest to steady herself and she felt his heartbeat under her palm. Steady, completely unbothered, like he had planned this three moves ago. His face was inches from hers. Dark eyes locked on her. No amusement left in them. "You're the only person who talks to me like that," he said. Low. The kind of low that wasn't a conversation. It was a warning. This close, the cockiness she had a second ago was gone. She wanted to say something sharp. But her throat wouldn't cooperate. He picked up the glass without breaking eye contact and took a slow sip. "The temperature is acceptable." 'You're welcome,' she thought as if he could hear her. As if that counted. The corner of his mouth moved. Barely. If she had blinked she would have missed it. This was the first time she felt controlled by a monster. And the worst part... she didn't entirely hate it.