Forbiddenly Bound To You
Chapter 131: Unbroken Composure

Chapter 131: Unbroken Composure

Mira’s cheeks flushed hard, the rosy hue spreading as she realized people had overheard Zamian’s words. The attention was overwhelming, and the way her face reddened only made her look more endearing to the onlookers. Unaware of the impact his statement had on his wife, Zamian continued walking confidently, holding her hand as they strode further into the building.

The glass doors slid open and closed behind them, leaving behind a brief moment of silence. Then, someone finally broke it.

"Did he just tell his wife he’s her Superman?" a voice asked, tinged with astonishment.

What followed was a flurry of excited whispers and exclamations.

"Oh my gosh, that was so handsome!"

"Did you see how he held her hand?"

"Zamian is even more gorgeous in person!"

"Wait, is that his wife?"

"She’s stunning! Did you see her shape?"

The murmurs grew louder, spreading like wildfire among the employees. In no time, everyone in the reception area was buzzing about Zamian and Mira’s arrival, their excitement palpable.

Amid the chatter, a sharp voice cut through the noise. "We have work to attend to. Don’t forget who Mr. Zamian is."

That simple reminder sent everyone scurrying back to their desks, though the thrill lingered in their glances and hushed tones. Zamian’s presence demanded discipline, and no one dared test the limits of his patience, even while they admired him and his wife.

Inside the elevator, Mira’s cheeks burned with a shade of pink she couldn’t hide. She still couldn’t believe what her husband had said outside. The words echoed in her mind, and she was certain some of the employees had overheard them—she had seen the mixture of shock and delight on their faces.

As the elevator doors closed, Zamian glanced at her, raising a brow slightly when he noticed the flush in her cheeks. His dark eyes sparkled with curiosity and amusement. Mira couldn’t contain her embarrassment any longer. With a groan, she lightly punched his shoulder, her face growing even redder.

"Why did you say that?" she muttered, her voice laced with exasperation.

Zamian smirked, his lips curving upward in that maddeningly charming way that always unraveled her. "What did I say? I was just being honest."

As if to hide her reaction, Mira covered her face with her hands, groaning softly. She couldn’t believe him. He was already impossibly charming with his earlier antics, but now he was adding fuel to the fire. Why was he so effortlessly adorable? And why couldn’t she stay mad at him, even for a moment?

Zamian tilted his head, feigning innocence. "But I’m just a man," he teased, his voice rich with mischief.

Mira groaned again, shaking her head and nodding at the same time. "Yes, you are. Yes, you are," she muttered, feeling completely defeated by his playful charm.

Fortunately for her sanity—or maybe fate was just being merciful—the elevator doors slid open. Without missing a beat, Mira stepped out quickly, leaving Zamian behind as if trying to escape the intensity of the moment.

Zamian chuckled softly, his smile wide and proud, looking every bit the husband who had just successfully teased his wife into submission. He followed her at a relaxed pace, his long strides effortlessly catching up to her.

As they entered the office, Mira couldn’t help but smile when she noticed her desk had remained unchanged. The familiar sight of her workstation brought her a small sense of comfort. She walked over and sat down, pulling out her laptop. It was clear that Zamian had already made arrangements—her workload for the day had been reduced to just an hour, far shorter than the usual four hours.

She turned to Zamian, who was already seated at his desk, exuding an air of calm authority. "What?" he asked, his voice too calm to be innocent.

Mira raised an eyebrow. "You know exactly what you did."

Zamian’s lips twitched, but he said nothing, his attention seemingly fixed on his screen. Mira decided not to push the matter further, knowing full well that arguing with him would only lead to more teasing. Instead, she focused on the task in front of her.

Determined to complete her work perfectly, Mira began organizing her files, her mind zeroing in on the details. Even though it was only a one-hour task, she treated it with the same diligence she would a full day’s workload, leaving no room for error.

As she worked, her surroundings faded into the background. Zamian, meanwhile, had started working too—or so it seemed. Every now and then, his eyes would flicker toward Mira, watching her intently, as if waiting for her to look up and acknowledge him.

But Mira didn’t glance his way, not even once.

Thirty minutes passed, and Zamian’s patience began to wear thin. He had been hoping for even the smallest reaction from her—a glance, a smile, anything—but there was nothing. His jaw tightened as he watched her, the quiet intensity of her focus only adding to his frustration.

Finally, he stood up and slammed his hand on the table, the sharp sound echoing through the room. He had intended to catch her attention, but Mira didn’t flinch. She didn’t even look up.

Under his breath, Zamian muttered a curse. Was she really this engrossed in her work? He couldn’t believe it.

With a sigh, he began pacing the room, his towering figure radiating a mix of authority and irritation. He rarely moved around during work hours, preferring to stay seated and manage everything from his desk. But with Mira sitting so close, her presence was impossible to ignore. Even when she wasn’t doing anything, she had a way of commanding his attention.

As he paced, Zamian’s gaze drifted back to her laptop. He could see the progress she had made, her efficiency evident in the neatness of her work. Reluctantly, he muttered, "You’re doing great."

Expecting a simple "thank you," Zamian waited. But Mira remained silent, her focus unbroken.

His patience snapped. "Mira," he said, his tone sharper this time. "Please look at this handsome husband of yours."

At last, Mira raised her head, her golden eyes meeting his dark ones. Zamian’s lips twitched into a triumphant smile, but it quickly faltered when he heard her response.

"Zamian, please... could you go back to work? I’m quite busy right now."

She turned back to her laptop, her tone calm but dismissive.

The words hit Zamian harder than he expected. How could she prioritize work over him? It didn’t sit well with him, and the frustration in his chest grew.

Mira began typing again, her fingers flying across the keyboard. Zamian couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking, he strode over and snatched the laptop from her desk, holding it high above his head.

Mira froze, her hands flying to her forehead in exasperation. "Zamian," she said, her voice weary, "please stop this. I’m almost done."

"No," he replied firmly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I’ll give it back if you can reach it."

Mira’s eyes widened as she realized what he was doing. She knew she couldn’t reach the laptop—not with his towering height. The only way to get it back would be to climb onto him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She could already feel the tension building, and she knew it would lead to something far beyond just retrieving her laptop.

With a heavy sigh, she finally relented. "Fine."

Zamian’s smirk deepened, expecting her to attempt to climb and grab the laptop. But to his surprise, Mira turned on her heel and began walking toward the door.

His eyes widened in disbelief. This wasn’t how he had imagined it. He had thought she would fight him for the laptop, but instead, she was simply walking away.

Panic surged through him as he rushed to block her path. Standing in front of the door, he stretched out his arms, his expression a mix of confusion and determination.

"Where do you think you’re going?" he asked slowly, his deep voice tinged with frustration.

Mira stopped and turned to face him, her expression calm. "It seems like you’re already done with your work. I could simply ask your assistant for another laptop."

Her words sent a pang of irritation through him. Zamian’s eyes darkened as he leaned closer. "Don’t ask him."

Without another word, he handed the laptop back to her, his movements stiff with restrained frustration. Mira took it with a small nod, her smile barely concealing the amusement dancing in her eyes.

As Zamian walked away, he couldn’t shake the odd irritation simmering inside him. She hadn’t done anything wrong—she had simply asked for the laptop. But somehow, her composure and calm demeanor had managed to throw him off balance.

A few hours passed, the tension gradually easing. Just when the atmosphere seemed to settle, the doorbell rang.

A delivery man entered, carrying several food bags, each neatly packed with an assortment of dishes.

Mira stood up, grateful for the distraction. She began arranging the food on the small dining table near the sofa, pleased to have finished her work. Once everything was set, she turned to Zamian, her face bright with a smile.

"Time to eat," she said cheerfully.

But Zamian didn’t even glance up from his work. "I’m not hungry."