Rebirth: My CEO Husband's Thoughts Are Too Shameless

"What?!"

Mark nearly shouted, his voice echoing throughout the executive office.

"You agreed with Madam?"

The room instantly fell silent.

Only when Dominic slowly lifted his eyes from the documents in front of him did Mark realize just how loudly he’d spoken.

Those familiar icy eyes landed on him.

"..."

Mark immediately straightened.

"Ahem... sorry about the volume."

He cleared his throat before lowering his voice.

"But Boss... how could you actually agree with Madam?"

Dominic calmly signed another document without looking up.

"I didn’t agree."

"You practically surrendered!"

Mark protested.

After investigating Gen’s background, everything had become crystal clear.

The man who had come looking for her wasn’t a random stranger.

He was her father.

The very man who had handed his own daughter over to the police years ago.

According to the case file, Gen had gotten into a heated argument with her mother over something she desperately wanted to do.

In a fit of rage, she’d pushed her.

Her mother had stumbled backward, striking the back of her head against a glass coffee table.

The impact had been fatal.

When her father tried to stop her from running away...

She attacked him too.

Every page of the report screamed danger.

Yet Clara had not only hired Gen—

She had welcomed her into her bakery with complete trust.

Mark sighed.

"Just how much can one person’s personality change in such a short time?"

Not just him.

Everyone who had known Clara before her marriage was still trying to process the transformation.

The arrogant, spoiled young lady they once knew had practically disappeared.

The current Clara was kinder.

Warmer.

More considerate.

Unfortunately...

She was also ten times more unpredictable.

"Boss," Mark said earnestly, "Madam is definitely going to get herself into trouble."

Dominic silently listened to him.

Mark had been ranting nonstop for the last ten minutes.

At this point he sounded less like an assistant...

...and more like an overprotective mother.

Finally, Dominic looked up.

"I can’t stop her."

Mark blinked.

"What?"

"I promised I wouldn’t interfere in her business."

He paused before adding,

"And she assured me she’d be careful."

Mark stared at him in disbelief.

"...And you believed her?"

Dominic frowned.

"I did."

Mark slapped his own forehead dramatically.

"Boss!"

"Madam may have changed..."

"But she’s still Madam!"

"Did you already forget what she did to Eric?"

"She didn’t just beat him up."

"She beat up his friends too!"

"They were twice her size!"

When Dominic had previously told him how Clara had obtained Eric’s confession...

And casually admitted she’d punched him herself...

Mark had nearly fainted.

He’d always believed Clara’s strongest weapon was her sharp tongue.

Apparently...

She also had fists.

Very dangerous fists.

Mark unconsciously rubbed his own cheek.

"...Lord."

A horrifying image suddenly flashed through his mind.

Clara is rolling up her sleeves.

Cracking her knuckles.

Walking toward him with an angelic smile.

"I’ll butcher you."

Mark shivered.

"No."

"I refuse."

"I choose life."

He vigorously shook the terrifying thought away.

Across the desk, Dominic watched him silently.

Then he sighed.

Mark was undoubtedly an excellent assistant.

Efficient.

Reliable.

Capable.

But outside of work...

The man possessed the imagination of a frightened squirrel.

"Speaking of which..."

Dominic closed the file in front of him.

"Where exactly were you the other day?"

Mark instantly stiffened.

"You disappeared without informing me."

"You left your boss stranded."

"And only reappeared after I threatened to transfer you to an island branch."

Mark’s jaw dropped.

"Boss!"

"I told you I wasn’t feeling well!"

"I even requested a day off!"

"You ignored my message!"

"You left me on read!"

Dominic raised an eyebrow.

"I was busy."

"You were online!"

"I saw the blue tick!"

"..."

Dominic looked completely unbothered.

"So you decided to throw a tantrum."

"It wasn’t a tantrum!"

"It was a peaceful employee protest!"

"You ghosted your own boss."

"I was preserving my mental health!"

"You were hiding."

"I was recovering!"

"You were dramatic."

"I was dying!"

Dominic looked him up and down.

"You seem very alive."

Mark placed a hand over his heart.

"...Boss."

"One day..."

"My resignation letter will be written entirely because of you."

Without missing a beat, Dominic replied,

"I’ll reject it."

Mark stared at him for a long moment before letting out a defeated sigh.

"...Sometimes I genuinely wonder who the real tyrant of Sterling Group is."

Dominic calmly picked up another file.

"You already know the answer."

Mark muttered under his breath as he turned toward the coffee machine.

"Yeah..."

"The CEO who steals his wife’s cuddles and his assistant’s peace."

Dominic did not object; after all, everything he said was correct.

"Okay now, what’s the update?" Mark abruptly returned to his role as assistant and proceeded with his most recent weekly schedule.

***

Clara stepped out of the taxi, carefully balancing the insulated dessert boxes in her arms.

She glanced at the address on her phone.

Then at the building in front of her.

Then back at the address.

"..."

She repeated the process three more times.

"...No way."

Before her stood not a luxurious hotel or a high-end corporate building...

But a tiny row house tucked away in a quiet residential lane.

It was clean and well-maintained, but...

Tiny.

Clara slowly lowered her sunglasses.

"Did the GPS betray me?"

She looked at the house again.

Then at the neighboring houses.

"...Mr. Logan’s boss lives here?"

Her eyes widened dramatically.

"Wait..."

She gasped.

"Is the boss even rich?"

Another horrifying possibility struck her.

"Or..."

She clutched the dessert box against her chest.

"...did he lose all his money?"

The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became.

"Oh no..."

"What if my desserts bankrupted him?"

She shook her head.

"No, Clara. Don’t jump to conclusions."

Then she looked at the modest little house again.

"...But this really doesn’t scream ’multi-million-dollar businessman.’"

Instead, it whispered...

"Please remove your shoes before entering."

She sighed dramatically.

"Mr. Logan better not tell me his boss sold his mansion just to afford my desserts."

Muttering to herself, Clara walked toward the front gate.

Just as she reached out to press the doorbell...

She paused.

"...If he really is broke..." She looked down at the desserts. "...Should I give him a discount?"

After thinking seriously for two whole seconds, she nodded to herself.

"Kindness first."

Then she rang the bell, completely unaware that appearances could be incredibly misleading.

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