Emma sat on the edge of her bed, her phone in hand but her thoughts miles away. The whirlwind of the past forty-eight hours clung to her skin like a second layer. She had woken up as a small-town waitress and somehow found herself as a billionaire's wife, legally bound to a man she barely knew. A man who, despite the cold exterior and calculating gaze, had moments of tenderness that left her shaken.
Later in the day Alexander had sent a car to pick her up. she was now moving into his penthouse, a life she didn't plan for and leaving behind her family, best friend and small apartment. filled mixed feelings of sadness, uncertainty. she got into the car and tears welling up in her eyes she bid her family goodbye to go begin the new life of uncertainty ahead of her.
Finally arrived in the penthouse, and was welcomed by the house keeper an elderly woman in her 50s.
She glanced around the lavish house, her guest bedroom. Everything was crisp, curated, expensive. And none of it felt like home. Her fingers nervously traced the edge of her phone case as she heard the sound of footsteps. A soft knock echoed.
"Come in," she called out, her voice quieter than she intended.
Alexander entered, dressed in a dark blue shirt that clung just right to his frame. He looked at her with an unreadable expression before speaking. "Dinner is ready. Thought you might want something to eat."
Emma nodded and stood up. "Thanks."
The dining area looked like something out of a design magazine. Polished wood, subtle lighting, fine cutlery, and a meal that looked too pretty to eat. Emma sat stiffly as Alexander poured her a glass of wine.
"This is... really nice," she said, gesturing at the table.
He gave a small smile. "You get used to it."
They ate mostly in silence, the clink of cutlery filling the gaps. Emma couldn't help sneaking glances at him. His features were sharp, his posture controlled. But there was something beneath it a flicker of tension, of something unsaid.
"So," she began, cautiously, "how long do we keep pretending?"
He paused mid bite. "Pretending?"
She met his gaze. "This marriage. What are we even doing, Alexander?"
He sighed and leaned back. "You're right. We need to talk. I meant what I said at the courthouse. I didn't plan for this either, but... we have to make it work for now."
"For now?"
"I have my reasons. Business. Family. Complications you don't need to worry about."
Emma frowned. "But I'm your wife. Don't I at least deserve the truth?"
His jaw clenched. "Not tonight, Emma. Please."
The word please lingered in the air. She let it go, but not because she was satisfied. Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.
Later, as they walked toward the bedrooms, Alexander stopped in front of a door.
"This is your room for now," he said. "You can decorate it however you like."
She nodded slowly. "Thanks."
He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead gave her a small nod and turned away.
Emma closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling deeply. Everything felt surreal. She picked up her phone and typed a message to her best friend, Lila, but paused before hitting send. How do you even explain something like this?
Meanwhile, Alexander stood by the large floor-to-ceiling window in his own room. The city lights stretched endlessly before him. He took a deep breath and pulled out his phone.
A message was waiting.
Unknown Number: They're starting to talk. You can't hide her forever.
He cursed under his breath and tossed the phone onto the bed. His eyes drifted to the door across the hall. He had thought he could control this. He thought he had time.
Back in her room, Emma stared at the ceiling. The silence was louder than ever. Something was off. And she was going to find out what it was.
But just as her eyes began to drift shut, her phone buzzed.
Lila: Girl, Are you okay??? People are talking about you?
Emma stared at the screen.
Her stomach flipped.
what is Lila talking about?