Ch. The Campus Queen’s Billionaire Husband Is My Secret Spouse” 1 The Campus Queen’s Billionaire Husband Is My Secret Spouse” 1

Chapter 1 

For ten years, I worked in Federal Security Research Laboratory, a classified facility, so I rarely checked the high school alumni group chat. 

Today, my notifications were blowing up. 

Dozens of unread messages filled the screen, all from the same group. 

[Eleanor, seriously? Are you even human?] 

[Amber invited you to her wedding, and you couldn’t even bother to reply?] 

I scrolled up through the chat history to piece it together. Amber Howard, our high school’s golden girl, was getting married today. 

Everyone who could be reached had RSVP’d and showed up. 

I was the only one who hadn’t responded. 

[Just saw the messages. Sorry.] I typed and sent. 

The backlash was instant and brutal. 

[Just saw them? Amber sent the invitations a month ago. Do you completely look down on us?] 

[Big deal. It’s just some dead-end job she can’t even talk about, but you’d think she was a celebrity with that 

attitude.] 

[Give her a break. She’s probably just embarrassed to show up. I mean, she hasn’t posted a single life update in ten years. People who actually make it don’t hide like a ghost.] 

Then Amber chimed in, tagging me directly. 

[Eleanor, remember what I told you back in high school? I said I’d end up living a much better life than you.] 

[I don’t remember.] I replied honestly. 

The chat erupted. 

[She’s marrying the richest man in Veridia Metro, and you’re pulling the amnesia card?] 

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[Amber is marrying Pierce from Summit Group! Do you even know who he is? Half the prime real estate in 

Veridia Metro belongs to him!] 

[Can you even afford the wedding registry? Do we need to fund your Honeyfund for you?] 

Amber sent a voice note. Her voice was sickeningly sweet. 

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“Eleanor, I really want you there to witness my happiness. Don’t worry, I won’t judge. If you have nothing to _do when you arrive, I can set you up at the registry desk. At least it’ll keep you busy.” 

Right after, she dropped a wedding photo into the chat. 

The woman in the picture wore immaculate makeup, a sweeping white designer gown, and smiled radiantly while holding her groom’s arm. 

The man beside her stood tall in a tailored suit, his features sharp and cold. 

On his right wrist was a limited-edition watch with a deep green dial. 

I bought that watch myself for our engagement three years ago. 

Pierce Mason. 

I stared at the face in the photo for ten seconds, making absolutely sure I wasn’t mistaken. 

This was my husband. 

[Fine.] I typed back. 

[I’ll be there.] 

The moment the message sent, a new notification popped up on my screen. 

It was from Pierce. 

[Hey babe, any free time this week? It’s been too long. Don’t drown yourself in work, and make sure you eat 

on time.] 

[Miss you.] 

Because of the classified nature of my position at the FRL, I lived on-site for most of the year with virtually 

zero outside contact. 

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In our three years of marriage, the total time I had spent with Pierce added up to less than two months. 

Yet his texts never stopped, arriving every few days just like this. 

I used to think it was affection. 

Now, it just felt like a bad joke. 

I locked my phone, walked down the hall and knocked on my boss’s office door. 

“Director Harrison, I need to take a personal day.” 

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Director Harrison looked up, adjusting his glasses. “A personal day? You’ve been with the lab for ten years. This is your first time ever asked for a break.” 

“Personal matters.” 

Director Harrison hesitated for a few seconds, then opened his desk drawer and tossed a set of keys to me. “Take the official vehicle. Stay safe out there.” 

“That car is a bit too conspicuous…” 

“I’m not comfortable with you driving out alone without it.” Director Harrison said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If anything happens, call me immediately.” 

I took the keys and didn’t argue. 

Downstairs, I started the car, punched Amber’s wedding venue address into the GPS, and hit the gas. 

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Espero toda la noche con una cena especial. Él nunca llegó. 

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