Ransom This: My CEO Wife's Sniper Squad

Just a moment ago, my cold, stunning CEO wife secretly handed her Amex Black Card to the waiter, covering the wildly expensive dinner for the man sitting across from her.

She quickly stuffed the exorbitant receipt into her limitededition Birkin. Caleb held up his own credit card, pretending to be polite, while my wife secretly covered the tab.

I sat at the table, quietly watching this pathetic little performance. Chapter 1 A buddy of mine asked me recently. [Your wife's first love is back in town.

Doesn't that bother you?] Honestly? Not at all. Maeve and I had been married for three years. It was a classic arranged marriage.

Back then, my family's cash flow took a massive hit. So, I was packed up overnight and shipped off to her family as the sacrificial lamb for the merger.

Truth be told, I was actually pretty satisfied with the arrangement. Maeve had a terrible temper, sure, but she was gorgeous, had an amazing figure, and treated me fairly well.

Aside from the fact that she didn't love me, she gave me almost everything I asked for. I could spend her money however I wanted, go wherever I pleased.

As long as she didn't see my cheating redflag behavior plastered all over the tabloids, I could do whatever I wanted.

It was a hell of a lot more freeing than playing the role of the obedient second son in my own family. That first love was Caleb, Maeve's senior from college.

Word had it they were incredibly highprofile back in their university days. Later, his family went through some upheaval.

Caleb left the country without a word, and things ended ugly between them. I didn't dig this up myself. Maeve spilled the details one night after throwing back way too many drinks.

After the confession, she gripped my chin, her nails digging in slightly. "Alistair, don't think for a second that just because you 'married' me, you get to control my life.

We do our own thing. Got it?" I nodded, casually pouring her a glass of iced club soda and setting two Aspirin next to it. The dinner ended.

Caleb stood outside the revolving glass doors of the Michelinstarred restaurant, the streetlights catching the slight loneliness on his profile. He glanced at Maeve, then at me.

He kept his smile polite. "Thanks for dinner tonight. Next time, it's on me." Maeve waved him off, sounding like a casual bro. "Sure, once you're settled in.

How are you getting back? Need me to call you an Uber?" "No need.

A friend is picking me up." Caleb's gaze slid past Maeve and landed firmly on me. "Alistair, thanks for the trouble tonight." I offered a brief smile. "Not a problem.

Welcome back to the States." His ride pulled up. Right before getting in, Caleb cast one last look at Maeve. Any man could decode the heavy meaning in that stare.

Once his car disappeared down the street, Maeve and I slid into ours. The interior was dead silent, save for the low hum of the AC.

I started the engine. "Heading home?" "Yeah," Maeve murmured. She leaned her head against the tinted window. Two blocks later, she spoke up. "That Tomahawk steak was too big.

We couldn't even finish it." I kept my eyes locked on the road ahead. "Yeah. A waste. We'll know for next time." And that was it.

Not a single word was exchanged for the rest of the drive. The next few days passed quietly. After settling in, Caleb joined Maeve's company. They crossed paths constantly.

I had to admit, the guy was capable. He knew how to play the corporate game. It didn't take long for him to win over the veteran employees and actually pull in some solid results.

I respected it. He had talent. But for some reason, Maeve's temper had been flaring up lately. Before, she used to just ignore me.

Now, she was actively picking fights. "Alistair, is this pasta sauce too heavy? Try it." She twirled a bit on her fork and pushed it toward me with a frown.

I took a taste. "It's fine. Tastes the same as always." "The same?" She dropped her fork, her voice dropping a few degrees. "So it's always been this bad." I stayed quiet.

I silently slid the pasta plate away and handed her a fresh bowl of mixed greens. She didn't touch it.

Instead, she picked up her phone and recorded a voice memo, her tone instantly melting into something soft and gentle. "Yeah, I reviewed the proposal.

We'll go over the details in the meeting tomorrow." Just from that tone, I knew exactly who was on the other end.

Chapter 2 It looked like the script was finally playing out—the good life was coming to an end.

I wondered when Maeve would finally drop the act, shove the divorce papers in my face, and tell me to sign on the dotted line and get lost.

But I was still a son of the wealthy Alistair clan.

If she wanted to avoid a scandal that would make both our families social pariahs in the upper crust, the number on that alimony check wouldn't be too ugly.

I waited for the blow, but it never came. Instead, Maeve nearly put me under house arrest. It happened a few nights ago. Maeve came home later than usual.

I was sprawled on the sofa, just finishing up a round of eye drops. The second she pushed the door open, I blinked in confusion.

She froze, catching the tear tracks down my cheeks and my bloodshot eyes.

I don't know if she'd been chewing on glass all day, but she immediately snapped. "Alistair, what is wrong with you? I'm home a little late and you're putting on a show for who?

A grown man, weeping and sobbing… you're acting like a total drama queen." I froze, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.

Before I could even get a word out, she kept going. "If you want to be a drama queen, then you don't need to leave the house. For the next few days, you stay right here.

Don't go anywhere and embarrass me." Was she blind? The bottle of eye drops was sitting right there on the coffee table. But I couldn't correct her.

Not if I wanted to avoid an awkward scene. If she got embarrassed, she might get spiteful and cut off my allowance.

Years of "living under someone else's roof" had honed my professional instincts. I flipped the switch and stayed in character. "Maeve, I… it's just been so long since I've seen you.

I missed you." The moment "I missed you" left my lips, Maeve visibly stiffened.

Her mouth opened as if to say something, but she eventually just let out a cold huff and turned toward the stairs. "Save it. Wipe your face. You look pathetic." Great.

The eye drops were a total waste. Suddenly, my phone buzzed with an alert from my private wealth manager.

Apparently moved by my "devotion," Maeve had just wired one million dollars into my trust account.

The next morning, before the money even had time to settle, I moved twenty thousand dollars. I used it to book a VIP spa suite at the exclusive country club I frequented.

As for the remaining eight hundred thousand? That was going toward a shopping spree.

I'd been through enough mysterious "hardships" lately; I wasn't going to let them go uncompensated. I needed to treat myself. Life went on.

I played the role of the dutiful, quiet husband while dragging my best friend out for some "cultural enrichment" at the club.

As for Maeve's erratic moods, I treated them like a frontrow seat to a drama series. Word on the street was that Caleb had been appointed as the Marketing Director of the company.

So, when I ran into him at one of the Maeve Group's highend malls, I wasn't the least bit surprised. "Oh, hey… babe?" I dialed up the affection in my voice, greeting her with practiced caution.

Maeve looked startled for a second before reality seemed to click.

She probably just remembered she was married and actually had a husband. "What are you doing here?" I shifted the shopping bags in my hand and gave her a warm, gentle smile. "We have that family brunch next week, remember?

I wanted to pick up some gifts for your parents. I thought it'd be better if I chose them personally." In reality, I was there to check out a new watch and kill some time.

Maeve's eyes flickered with a hint of something—maybe guilt—but her expression quickly flattened.

Caleb nodded a greeting toward me and then stepped aside, playing the part of the respectful subordinate perfectly. Things weren't quite playing out the way I'd imagined.

Interesting. Chapter 3 Maeve couldn't seem to find anything constructive to say.

She settled for a practical question. "Do you have enough money?" I gave a sheepish smile, looking like it physically pained me to admit it. "Well… it looks like I might be a little short, babe.

I only meant to pick up a few simple things, but as I kept looking, I accidentally went a bit over budget." Maeve didn't even blink.

In her eyes, if money could solve a problem, it wasn't a problem at all. It was honestly the trait I admired most about her.

Without a single furrow of her brow, she reached into her purse and pulled out a card. "This Amex Black Card doesn't have a limit.

Use this for now, and if it's not enough, call my private wealth manager." Damn. What a boss.

It was like she wasn't handing over real money, but colored paper bills from a Monopoly game.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my mouth from curling into a massive grin. "Got it, babe. What time are you heading home today?

Need me to prep anything in advance?" Maeve's expression instantly tightened with impatience. "I have things to do.

I'll come back when I'm done." I nodded immediately, playing the compliant husband as I watched the two of them walk away.

Ever since I noticed Caleb wasn't acting exactly how I'd pictured, my interest in him had spiked. I wanted to find a chance to pull him aside and test the waters.

And timing was everything. The day the family brunch wrapped up, I dropped Maeve off at the company tower. Just as I was pulling the car out, I happened to spot Caleb leaving work.

I rolled down the tinted window and called out to him. "Small world, Caleb. Hop in for a chat?" Hearing my voice, Caleb probably assumed I was there to pick a fight.

He rushed to explain himself. "Alistair, Maeve and I have a strictly professional relationship.

It's just boss and employee." When he slid into the passenger seat, the muscles in his jaw were still visibly tight. I offered him a cigarette.

He didn't take it, just gave a tight smile. "Thanks, but I quit." I didn't push. I lit it myself, taking a drag. "Don't get the wrong idea, man. I don't mean anything by it.

Just happened to be passing by and thought we could catch up." I kept my eyes on the traffic ahead, my tone casual.

After a few minutes of idle small talk, I pulled the car up to the luxurious revolving doors of an exclusive, membersonly premium men's spa club.

Under his shocked gaze, I tossed the keys to the valet and pulled him right into the grand lobby. "Don't misunderstand, man.

We were just talking so intensely, I accidentally drove us right here. Since we're already here, we might as well head in for a proper massage.

We hit it off so well, I've got to show you a good time tonight." "Don't sweat the bill. Everything tonight is on me.

Order whatever you want." Caleb let himself be halfpushed, halfled into the private suite. His face was still rigid, wearing a deeply serious "I don't want to be here" expression.

I couldn't be bothered with the fake modesty.

I called the lobby manager over directly, booking the highesttier double therapy room and requesting their two most elite private therapists.

Still wearing a look of sheer bewilderment, Caleb physically melted into the luxurious comfort.

The private therapists knew exactly what they were doing, melting the tension right out of our bones.

Lying facedown on the adjacent massage table, I turned my head to look at him, a wide grin on my face. "How is it, man? Not bad, right? The therapists here are toptier.

You can't even book them if you just have money." Caleb had his eyes closed, his voice having lost its edge. "…It really is incredible.

You're too generous, Alistair." After finishing the full deep muscle relaxation therapy, I enthusiastically led him up to the panoramic restaurant on the club's top floor.

I waved over a waiter, having them wheel out an entire cart piled high with fresh oysters, caviar, and Boston lobster. Chapter 4 "This… is way too much.

Can we even finish it?" Caleb stared at the table overflowing with dishes, his face visibly stiff. "It's overkill for just the two of us." "Not at all. You work hard every day.

You deserve it." I pushed the largest plate of baked lobster toward him, flashing a perfectly sincere smile. "Come on, don't be shy. Make yourself at home.

The seafood here is their signature.

Dig in." He picked up his fork, hesitating, clearly not knowing where to start. "To be honest, I've never experienced an exclusive club like this before.

I didn't expect it to look like this.

Ha, they even have a fullservice panoramic restaurant." I poured him a glass of bourbon over a single sphere of ice, and we started discussing the club's extensive liquor collection in their cellar. "This place washes away all the exhaustion.

You eat well, drink well, and leave all the headaches at the door." "You just got back to the States, so you must be under a lot of pressure.

You need to come here more often and unwind." Caleb offered a bitter smile. "The pressure is definitely there.

A new environment, new projects… there's a lot I have to readjust to." "I hear you, man," I said, nodding in deep sympathy.

Muscles relaxed, massage done, food eaten, and small talk thoroughly exhausted. Finally, Caleb and I exchanged contact info, and I had my driver drop him off at his place. Heh.

So much for my plan of taking a fat alimony check and walking away. After testing the waters tonight, this "first love" was useless.

It looked like my wife had zero chance of rekindling things with him. No wonder her temper was all over the place lately. She was just taking her romantic frustrations out on me.

Ever since our little "spa club diplomacy," my relationship with Caleb inexplicably grew closer.

He would occasionally shoot me a text with things like, "This Japanese spot is pretty good," or "Found a new cigar lounge." It was probably his way of trying to return the favor.

I replied to every single one with aggressive enthusiasm. "Sounds awesome!

Once my wife isn't so busy, the three of us should totally go together!" Flawlessly shutting down any possibility of him hanging out with me solo.

Maeve remained completely oblivious to all this. And her temper only continued to worsen. I trod carefully, playing the role of the perfect, domesticated husband to a tee.

The turning point happened late one night. Maeve was still stuck at the office pulling overtime.

I had dressed to the nines, looking sharp enough to kill, and met up with my wealthy buddies to hit the town. I didn't expect the night to end with a brutal ambush.

Right after we parted ways, a rough hand grabbed my collar. A black tactical hood was yanked down over my head, plunging me into darkness. I was getting fucking kidnapped.

Cold sweat instantly slicked my palms. Surprisingly, the first thought that pierced through the adrenaline was: Shit, I just bought this suit. Better not rip it.

The second thought was: If Maeve finds out I'm out this late dressed like this, will she think I'm cheating? Will she cut off my allowance? The van drove for what felt like hours.

The rough suspension rattled my bones, pitching my stomach until bile burned the back of my throat. Finally, the tires screeched to a halt. I was dragged out by the collar.

The hood was ripped off. Blinding, harsh halogen light stabbed into my retinas, forcing my eyes shut.

As my vision cleared, the rusted walls of an abandoned warehouse came into focus. There were three kidnappers in total, all wearing black ski masks. I kept my mouth shut.

My brain went into overdrive. Why kidnap me? For money? Were they Maeve's corporate rivals?

Or did one of my idiot friends piss someone off and I got dragged into the crossfire? "Sorry about this, buddy.

The boys and I are a little tight on cash lately, so we thought we'd borrow some spending money from you," the lead kidnapper rasped.

He shoved my own phone into my face, gesturing for me to unlock it. "Stop stalling! Unlock it! Call your wife and tell her to prep twenty million in used, nonconsecutive bills!

If she's short a single cent, you can kiss your limbs goodbye!" The tight knot in my chest uncoiled. Ah. Just a bunch of broke beggars. Chapter 5 "Whoa, guys, let's not get excited.

The money is no problem. But my wife is in a terrible mood lately, and she can't stand the sight of me.

Can we hit her up tomorrow morning instead?" "I'm worried if we piss her off right now, she'll just tell you to kill me.

That'd be a total loss for everyone." The lead kidnapper froze, his eyes widening through the mask. A tall, lanky kidnapper next to him shoved my shoulder hard. "Cut the crap!

Make the call!" "Calling, I'm calling!" I nodded frantically. "Look, man, I'll throw in an extra five million. Just please don't tell anyone I got kidnapped.

I don't want to become a laughingstock over pocket change like this." The leader's eyes darted back and forth. Twentyfive million dollars, that's no small amount.

Plus, I was being incredibly cooperative… "Don't try any funny business." He glared at me, suspicion thick in his voice. "Boss, you literally have me tied up.

How am I supposed to pull anything?" I kept my tone dead earnest. "Come on, I'm just offering you a bonus.

It's not like I'm making crazy demands." The kidnappers exchanged confused glances, scratching their heads through the cheap fabric of their masks.

They clearly didn't have the brainpower for this. One of them opened his mouth to argue, but the leader waved him off. "Fine. We do it your way.

If you're playing us…" He slapped a steel pipe against his open palm. "Don't blame us for what happens next." "Wouldn't dream of it!" I promised quickly.

I sucked in a deep breath and dialed Maeve's number. It rang seven, eight times. Just as I thought she had slapped me on Do Not Disturb again, the line clicked open.

Maeve's icy, impatient voice cut through the speaker. "Alistair?

This better be important." I flipped the switch and immediately got into character. "Maeve… I'm so sorry to bother you… I… I'm in trouble…" "What happened?" I could hear the instant shift in her tone.

The high alert. "I… I was out with some friends tonight, and on the way back… someone… they took me." I forced my voice to tremble, throwing in a perfectly timed, pathetic sniffle.

Dead silence stretched across the line for two agonizing seconds. Then, Maeve's voice exploded. Fury dripped from every word. "You're what?! Kidnapped?! Alistair!

There is a limit to your little attentionseeking stunts. Do you think this is a joke?" "I am slammed right now, and I don't have time for your games. I'm hanging up.

I'll deal with you when I get home." Before she could cut the call, I screamed into the receiver. "Don't hang up! Maeve! It's real! They… they want twentyfive million! In cash!

By tomorrow morning! Or else…" The lead kidnapper ripped the phone from my grasp. "Or else you can prep a body bag!" The guy barked into the mic.

His acting was a bit exaggerated, but he definitely had the aggressive energy down