The Wizard's new Wife

I didn’t want to wake up, especially since today’s dreams were simply incredible, romantic ones, and that rarely happened to me. But it was time to get up! Stretching sweetly in bed, I threw off the blanket and quickly turned on the music, heading energetically to the bathroom for a cool, refreshing shower.

Serious negotiations were scheduled for today, and I had to get a lot done before they started. My position demanded it — after all, I was the chief translator at a large international holding company with an impressive track record and endless gratitude from the management, who periodically showered me with praise. In general, I loved my job and couldn’t imagine my life without the dynamic meetings, translations, consultations, and overseeing documentation in various languages. I could confidently call myself a workaholic! Or should it be workaholic-ess? It doesn’t sound very nice, but it doesn’t change the essence: work is everything to me!

I guess you could call me successful. Perseverance, an insatiable passion, and excitement that comes to me during work, and of course hard work — all of this made me a true professional, trusted with the largest deals and negotiations.

I’m only thirty-four, yet I’ve achieved great heights! An apartment in a new building, a business-class car, a chic and prestigious job. What a smart girl, what a good job! But I had to give up a lot for these benefits, primarily time and energy. A job that sometimes took up to twenty hours a day bore fruit but completely deprived me of free time, and any time for rest in general.

Of course, many envied me, and, to be honest, did not hide their envy, but there were also such “well-wishers” who smiled sweetly at me, tried to support me in difficult moments, but behind my back, they threw dirt at me and literally spat venom in my direction. I tried to stay away from such people, and even better, to limit communication exclusively to business topics, and therefore, I mostly communicated only with my superiors, subordinates (yes, I had two translators under my supervision) and... that’s all, actually!

As sad as it may sound, my friends disappeared almost immediately after graduation when I got a job as a staff translator in what was then a small, little-known company that tried by all means to enter the international market and carve out a place in the sun. No one really believed in success, except perhaps the director and me. For some reason, I wanted so much for the place where I worked to become very successful, so that everyone would speak about the company with respect and reverence. Therefore, I helped my boss in every possible way, an already quite elderly but confident Jack Tindall, who hired me with no experience and just out of university. In the early days, I helped him not only with translation but also with legal support, studied international law, and the peculiarities of contracts with foreign partners, practically surpassing the lawyer who was then on staff, and who, thank God, was soon fired for professional incompetence. A year later, our company finally got its first major contract. And that’s when everyone started talking about “Media Group” as a successful company. My superiors appreciated my zeal and help, and I received my first bonus. Since then, I regularly receive bonuses, work a lot, and the management has changed, putting in place the son and nephew, who together expanded the enterprise.

I quickly refreshed myself under the cool water, got ready, styled my hair, and grabbing my purse and car keys, left the house. Today, I chose my wardrobe with particular care because I needed to look as businesslike as possible, but with a touch of flair. One of the future partners subtly hinted during the last meeting at a desire for closer communication with me.

The man was attractive, pleasant in appearance, with an appealing muscular physique, but did not evoke any desire for intimate closeness in me solely because I don’t start romances at work. That’s my principle. And since I work a lot, I practically have no personal relationships. All that I had were fleeting encounters and non-committal dates.

Lingerie was my weakness. Soft, seamless, comfortable, and of the highest quality. Typically, also very expensive. I choose my everyday lingerie with particular care because the quality of my panties and bra determines my overall comfort throughout the day. But lingerie for special occasions... That’s different! Enchanting, alluring, intoxicating with its seductiveness, telling a story about its owner. This lingerie is invariably made of lace, mesh, and silk.

Today, as always for work, I chose a delicate beige set, wore a pristine white short-sleeved blouse, a dark blue pencil skirt, nude stockings, and added the missing “spark” — a satin neck scarf that fit perfectly into the outfit, adding a touch of femininity while maintaining the strictness of the business style. A high bun with a few stray strands completed the look.

My apartment is located very close to work, right in the city center, and the commute takes no more than fifteen minutes. I lovingly ran my hand over the steering wheel of my car when I finally sat down on the leather seats of my steel steed. Mmm, I adore my beauty!

Today, surprisingly, the traffic was not heavy, and as I drove onto another road, already very close to the company office, I stopped at a traffic light. A strange burning sensation near my heart made me shift in my seat and grip the steering wheel tighter. As soon as the light turned green, I pressed the gas pedal and then noticed movement to my left out of the corner of my eye. A sharp scream, the screech of brakes, and I glanced to the left. A truck was speeding towards me at a terrifying speed.

Sadly, the negotiations will go on without me.

Then there was a crash, sharp pain, and darkness.

……..

I didn’t want to wake up, especially since I wasn’t dreaming at all, but I felt shattered. As if a truck had run over me. My eyes refused to open, and my body didn’t want to move. I should sleep a little more, but today are important negotiations! Damn it! I can’t be late!

Sitting up sharply in bed and finally prying my sleepy eyes open, I gasped in disbelief.

Is this still a dream?

Somehow, I was sitting on a huge, unfamiliar bed in a completely astonishing but alien room. Soft pink walls, slightly brighter pink curtains, a plush pink carpet on the floor. And the bed linen, pink poufs, and a pink-painted dressing table.

What a nightmare!

Oh, and the nightgown I was wearing was pink too! And why does it look so... old-fashioned??? I always chose silk, pleasant-to-the-touch, and short nightgowns, but now I was wearing something that resembled a puritan dress with a bunch of ruffles and lace.

What is going on?

A sharp headache forced me to recline back onto the pillows. What happened? Where am I, and why am I dressed so strangely? Despite the pain, I tried to piece together the chronology of recent events, which I remembered very well. I woke up, took a shower, got dressed, and drove to work. I remember every detail, from the color of the panties I put on in the morning to the last track playing in the car. And then...

Oh God!

Then the accident! A truck was speeding towards me!

So, am I in the hospital? And what kind of strange hospital is this?

Looking around, I noticed the beautiful panoramic windows opposite the bed, which offered a wonderful view of the lake and forest in the distance. Mmm, I suddenly wanted to walk barefoot on the grass, swim, and just lie under the blue sky.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, and within a second, a pretty girl entered the room with a pitcher in her hands.

“Oh, madam, you’re awake! How glad I am!” the girl chirped, quickly approaching me and placing the pitcher on the bedside table. “Madam, we were all so scared, we didn’t know what to do! Mr. Cornish sent a messenger to fetch the doctor from town, but we feared the doctor wouldn’t make it in time! You were so pale, and your pulse almost faded, and I was so frightened! So frightened!”

The endless stream of words made my head feel like an atomic bomb had exploded in it. I craved silence.

“Wait!” I raised my hand, palm forward, in an attempt to stop the girl’s verbal torrent. She immediately fell silent, looking at me with adoration. Well! “Who are you and what am I doing here? What happened to my car? Where is my cell phone? I need to make some important calls.”

The girl widened her eyes in surprise and stared at me, confused.

“I... I don’t understand what you are talking about, madam,” she said quietly, with caution.

“Why are you calling me madam?” I frowned. “My name is Olivia, and yours?”

The girl suddenly backed away from me, whispering something to herself in fear.

“Stop!” I jumped up, and despite the sharp pain that hit my temple, I was next to the stranger in an instant and quickly grabbed her by the arm. She resisted at first, but then, realizing she couldn’t escape, she went limp and started to cry.

Damn!

“Madam, forgive me, but I don’t understand!”

Tears streamed down the girl’s cheeks, and I felt awful. What did I say to cause such a hysteria?

“Calm down and please answer my questions. What is your name?”

"Abelia, but you, madam, always called me Abi,” a thin voice replied through the sobs.

“Great, Abelia!” I smiled, though I didn’t understand anything. How could I call the girl by name if I was seeing her for the first time in my life?! “Then tell me, where are we?”

“In the Duke of Italika estate,” the stream of tears gradually subsided. “And you don’t remember anything?”

I shook my head. The nonsense Abelia was spouting made me think of only one thing. I was in a madhouse!

And in front of me was a patient. Mmm, why am I here? Why was I brought here? Well, I would understand if I really woke up in a hospital, a regular one, especially after that huge truck I collided with, it would be quite logical, but a madhouse? Why???

“Madam, so you lost your memory after what happened?” Abi exclaimed hopefully. She was glowing with happiness, which confused me. “I was so scared that you... well... lost your mind... um...”

"Abi,” I sighed heavily, “is there anyone else in the estate?”

“Of course!” the girl chirped again. “A full staff of servants, the manager, and additional help from the nearby village.”

“Got it,” I muttered, turning and walking back to the bed. My legs refused to hold me, and the headache intensified.

“Madam, I brought you a restorative decoction. Mrs. Dallit prepared it while we were waiting for the doctor. But he still hasn’t come for some reason.”

Abi rushed to the bedside table where she had previously placed a pitcher and quickly poured a liquid that resembled ordinary chamomile tea into a glass. Sipping the decoction, I realized that it was indeed chamomile tea. Well, at least that’s consistent, thank goodness!

My tea drinking was interrupted by a loud child’s cry that sounded very close by.

“What’s that?”

Abelia lowered her head guiltily.

“It’s the baby, madam. She cries often, and we can’t do anything to help her.”