"You can leave now," Travis' voice was cold, despite the heat lingering between them.
He wasn't the type to lose control, but tonight — shouting that name — he'd slipped. Still, he wasn't worried. Let her talk if she wanted. It wouldn't matter.
Hailey didn't need to be told twice.
"Can I use the bathroom?" she asked, voice tight.
But the moment Travis looked at her, the bold words she meant to say died on her tongue.
"I'll give you five minutes."
She clenched her jaw, bitter at how easily she'd fallen into being someone's replacement. With stiff steps, she made her way to the bathroom, praying she didn't look completely wrecked.
The hot water stung against her skin, a sharp reminder of what had just happened. She scrubbed herself clean, though nothing could wash away the humiliation clinging to her. The bite on her shoulder throbbed, and the ache in her chest wouldn't ease.
By the time she got home, the cool spring night offered no comfort. She tossed her clothes straight into the trash, showered again, and tried to forget the man who thought she was someone else. At least… at least he'd used protection. A small mercy in a night full of mistakes.
The next morning, loud knocking jarred her awake. She pulled the door open, only to find her father, Denver Stewart, standing there, frowning. His eyes swept over her messy appearance, disapproval tightening his features.
"Why aren't you cleaned up yet? The Blake family's coming."
Hailey gave him a flat smile. "It's too late for that."
Ever since the day Denver forced her mother to kneel in front of him, Hailey stopped caring what he thought.
Moments later, the Blake family's servants arrived. The butler, dressed in immaculate black, greeted her father politely before turning to Hailey.
"Young madam," he addressed her with a small, polished smile. "I'm here as per orders."
Hailey couldn't help the dry laugh that slipped from her. "Young madam? That's generous."
She'd been sewing for the Blake family since she was seventeen, quietly working in their traditional clothing business. She'd never met the guests, never stepped beyond the servants' quarters. Now suddenly, she was 'young madam'?
"You are," the butler said simply. "The matriarch sent the marriage certificate early this morning. You'll see it when we arrive."
Her stomach sank. The marriage certificate… signed, sealed, delivered — without her even present. The Blake family didn't ask for permission. They never needed to.
And the groom? An ailing man she'd never met.
"Let's go," Hailey sighed. No point fighting. There was no way out.
The Blake family's old estate loomed large, with high walls, sweeping pavilions, and red lanterns hanging like watchful eyes. The air smelled of incense and old power.
The butler led her through winding halls until they reached a quiet room. Inside, the Blake family's matriarch sat, eyes closed, quietly reciting scriptures.
Hailey waited, hands clasped in front of her, pulse steady despite the storm in her chest.
When the old woman finally opened her eyes, they were sharp as glass.
"Since you've entered the Blake family, you'll follow our rules," the matriarch declared. "As Calvin's wife, you'll stay here. You won't go to the hospital to care for him. There won't be time for introductions once he returns."
Hailey's heart skipped. Stay here? Never met her husband? What kind of family was this?
The second son of the Blake family had adopted Calvin Blake years ago. Abandoned on a snowy night, Calvin was taken in by the family matriarch and raised as her own.
Now, he lay pale and frail on the hospital bed, his life hanging by the steady hum of medical machines.
Hailey stood quietly at his bedside, staring at the young man fate had named her husband. He looked heartbreakingly fragile, like the smallest breeze could shatter him.
Behind her, Rowena Harver's sharp voice cut through the room.
"What's the point of standing there? If you can't help, step aside."
A servant arrived with a basin of warm water. Rowena personally wiped Calvin's face and hands, her movements careful, almost trembling. Unable to have children of her own, she had pinned all her hopes on Calvin — and now…
Hailey stepped back, her helplessness gnawing at her. She barely knew this family, yet here she was — a wife in name only, tangled in their tragedy.
Suddenly, Calvin's fingers twitched. His eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened.
Rowena gasped, tears brimming as she barked at the servant, "Get the doctor!"
Hailey's breath caught. Could this be… was their rushed, ridiculous marriage truly blessed?
Calvin's gaze swept the room and settled on Hailey, weak but sharp.
"Who… are you?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
Rowena shot Hailey a look, warning her to answer properly.
Hailey's lips quivered before she found her voice.
"I'm your wife. Hailey Stewart."
If he survived… maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Looking at him now, frail but still managing a soft, beautiful smile, she could almost imagine the handsome man he once was — and might have been again.
"I didn't expect… to have a wife," Calvin murmured, his smile faint as a spring breeze.
Rowena scowled, brushing tears away.
"Nonsense, child. Of course, you deserve a wife. You'll recover — and live a good life together."
But Calvin only closed his eyes, the fragile smile still on his lips.
"Even if it's just for a moment… being husband and wife… It's still destiny," he whispered. Then, turning his eyes to Hailey once more, "Please… take care of my mother… after I'm gone."
Barely half an hour later, Calvin passed away. Before closing his eyes for good, he made Rowena promise not to blame Hailey.
Hailey had got married in the morning. By noon, she was a widow.
A servant approached Hailey, leaning in with a whisper.
"Young madam… the eldest master is here to visit Mrs. Rowena."
Hailey's heart stuttered. The Blake family's head? The man Harvey always admired? She straightened instinctively, curiosity brewing.
Footsteps echoed down the hall. She turned toward the door and locked eyes with him.
Both of them froze.
The man from last night.
"Get out. All of you." Travis's voice was low but sharp as glass.
The servants exchanged uneasy glances, startled by his sudden loss of composure, but quickly scurried from the room.
Hailey stood frozen for a breath before moving toward the door, keeping her expression cool despite the storm in her chest. Could it really be him? Travis Blake — the current head of the Blake family — and… that man?
"Not you." His voice cut through the room. "You stay."
Hailey's hand clenched at her side. Her instincts screamed to run, but it was useless now. Their fates were already knotted together.
When the others left, Travis grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the living room. His eyes burned into her.
"What is this? Why are you here?"
Hailey yanked her wrist free, her gaze distant, guarded, as if he were nothing more than a stranger.
"I'm Hailey Stewart." A small, knowing smile curved her lips. "The wife of Calvin Blake… who passed away today."
Shock flickered across Travis's face, quickly buried beneath cold suspicion.
"Are you the replacement Denver Stewart sent?" His voice was rough, laced with contempt. If the answer was yes, Denver would pay for it.
Hailey's lips curled, mocking and sharp.
"Your family wanted someone with a lucky horoscope. Did it ever occur to you to ask how many daughters Denver Stewart has?"
Travis stilled. That detail hadn't crossed his mind. All he'd cared about was finding a woman wealthy enough to shift Calvin's fate — but he'd overlooked the specifics.
"And yet," Hailey added coolly, "the so-called respectable Blake family has no issue marrying off strangers… then judging them." Her eyes narrowed. "If men like you didn't twist fate for convenience, women wouldn't have to twist themselves to survive."
The words hit harder than Travis expected. No woman had ever stood toe-to-toe with him like this — calm, unflinching, infuriating.
He took a step closer, lowering his voice.
"If I find out you're still… in that line of work," his eyes glinted, "I won't be so polite next time."
With that, he turned on his heel and stalked off, the air crackling with unresolved tension.
Hailey rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a humorless smile. Of course, it was him — the man from last night. What a cosmic joke. She might've laughed if the servants hadn't returned, faces tight with grief and duty.
At first, she'd assumed Luna's connection to Travis was strictly business. But seeing his raw reaction, his unguarded anger, Hailey wasn't so sure.
A strange lightness bloomed in her chest, like spring air clearing the fog of the past few days. But it died quickly, replaced by a dull ache at the thought of Calvin.
She never expected a dying stranger to stir something warm in her life again. Now, tangled in the Blake family's mess, one thing was certain — there was no turning back.