~Jack's POV~
I stared at the door my father had just exited, replaying his words over and over in my mind. He was dead serious this time. I either got married—or lost everything.
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath.
I kicked the edge of my desk and groaned. "He's really losing it. Married? Me? What the hell does he expect—some miracle bride to fall out of the sky?"
I reached for the bottle of whiskey in my drawer, the one I kept for moments like this, poured myself a glass, and downed it in one go. The burn in my throat barely dulled the frustration. That woman—the married one who caused this entire mess—if I ever saw her again, I'd give her a piece of my mind.
"I didn't even know she was married," I muttered to myself. "What the hell, Greg…"
Greg should know who she was. I grabbed my phone and shot him a quick text:
Find out who she is.
I didn't wait for a reply. My father had finally snapped, and I was neck-deep in trouble. I was on my second glass of whiskey when Luke, my secretary, knocked and walked in holding a file.
"Mr. Reeves, I wanted to remind you about the charity gala this weekend," he said.
"Can't we cancel that?" I groaned.
"Unfortunately, we can't. Your father insisted that you not miss any events from now on. He said there would be steep repercussions if you did—and that you'd understand when I told you."
I chuckled darkly. "Yeah, I understand all right. He's blackmailing me into a marriage."
"Excuse me, sir?"
"Nothing. Forget it," I said, rubbing my temple. "Shit. Fine."
Luke hesitated. "Your father also scheduled a press conference so you can address the… situation."
"What?" I snapped. The old man was really pissed. "When?"
"This evening," he replied carefully.
"Of course he did." I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "Alright. Get my speech ready. Make me sound apologetic and remorseful. No one's going to believe I didn't know she was married, so don't even include that."
"Noted, sir."
"Also, inform my driver I'll need him today. Tell him to take me to the hotel tonight where I'll be staying. Make sure the manager keeps my visit discreet."
"Yes, sir."
"Any meetings or pending work I need to handle?"
"I dropped them on your desk," he replied.
"Good. Let's get this over with."
Luke nodded and turned to leave.
"And Luke?" I called out.
"Yes, sir?"
"If you ever get married, don't let your old man pick your wife."
Luke gave a half-smile. "Noted, sir."
After another round of meetings, my father's words crept back into my mind. Women had always been a distraction for me. I'd never wanted commitment—and now he was insisting I settle down. The last time I tried that, I got burned badly. I'd sworn never again.
"What do I do now?" I muttered to myself, pacing.
A thought flashed through my mind. 'What if I hired someone to be my wife—just to appease my father? No real commitment, no strings attached. Just something on paper. That way, I wouldn't lose my inheritance.'
I picked up my phone again, this time to text Greg. If anyone could find the right woman for the job, it was him.
Bro, sorry about the mess. She tricked me too.
Forget about her. I need your help. My old man's insisting I get married ASAP or I lose my inheritance. I'm not ready for that. Can you find a woman who can keep her mouth shut—daring enough to pretend to be my wife for a while? She'll be well compensated.
A few seconds later, he replied:
Whoa, you sure about that? Your old man won't like it.
He doesn't have to know. You got me into this mess, so you owe me.
Fine. I'll see what I can do.
Thanks.
"That's more like it," I said under my breath, tossing the phone on my desk. I smiled faintly and poured myself another glass of whiskey. For a brief moment, everything felt right in the world again.
The press conference was next. I called out to Luke to get ready. He handed me the speech he'd drafted.
"Here you go, sir. I made it sound humble but confident."
I skimmed through it. "Apologetic, remorseful, perfectly polished," I muttered. "You really know how to make me sound like I give a damn."
Luke gave a small, tight smile. "It's a gift, sir."
The small hall on the first floor of the company was packed to the brim with reporters. Cameras flashed the moment I walked in. I could practically feel their hungry eyes dissecting every move I made. Ever since I was a kid, the paparazzi had followed me like flies to honey—always searching for a weakness, always ready to twist the truth.
I stepped up to the podium and leaned into the microphone. "Hello, everyone," I began, giving my best remorseful smile before launching into the speech. I expressed my deepest apologies to the family of the woman I'd slept with and took full responsibility for my actions.
I could hear the low murmur of reporters whispering to each other. One shouted, "Mr. Reeves, are you planning to settle down now?"
I ignored it and continued my speech.
Another voice chimed in, "Was this affair consensual, or were you misled?"
I clenched my jaw. "No questions, thank you," I said sharply.
Once I was done, I avoided eye contact, ignored the barrage of questions, and left the building immediately.
"Drake, take me straight to the hotel, please. I've had enough for one night," I said, loosening my tie and unbuttoning my shirt.
"Yes, sir," Drake replied. "You handled that pretty well, if I may say so."
I snorted. "You mean I looked like a guilty bastard trying to clean up his mess?"
Drake chuckled softly. "Something like that, sir."
Luke had packed some casual clothes for me, and I changed into them in the car.
"Leave the car in the garage. I'll drive myself home tomorrow."
Drake glanced at me through the rear-view mirror. "Alright, sir. Try not to get into more trouble tonight, yeah?"
"No promises," I muttered with a half-smirk.
I called the hotel manager to let him know I was arriving, stepped out of the car in a hoodie and joggers, and went straight to the elevator that would take me to my suite.
Just as I was about to step in, a woman barreled straight into me.
"Whoa, easy," I said, grabbing her arms before she could fall.
Her perfume hit me first—soft, floral, familiar. Then I saw her face.
She was beautiful.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
She looked up, her eyes widening slightly in recognition—and freezing. Damn it. The last thing I needed tonight was to be recognized.
Before she could answer, a man's angry voice called out behind her, accusing her of cheating—with me.
I blinked. "What the hell?"
The guy looked furious, clearly the jealous type—and from his tone, probably the real cheat in their relationship.
"Hey, man," I said, raising a hand, "you've got the wrong idea—"
But before I could say another word, she suddenly grabbed my face—and kissed me.
"What the—"
Her lips pressed hard against mine. Warm. Demanding. Shocking.
For a second, I froze. Then instinct took over. "Screw it," I murmured against her mouth. Why the hell not? I leaned in and kissed her back, losing myself in the moment. Her lips were soft—warm—and I could taste a hint of desperation and defiance all at once.
I heard the man's voice fade in the distance. "Fuck this," he muttered and stormed off.
Her body relaxed slightly against mine, and our tongues clashed—demanding, rough, electric. My pulse quickened, and I could feel myself getting hard.
When she pulled away abruptly, I caught her wrist gently. "You sure you want to stop now?"
She flushed scarlet. "I'm so sorry," she said, wriggling out of my hold. "That was… really uncalled for."
"No worries," I said with a grin. "I enjoyed that—even if it was brief. Wouldn't mind doing it again, though."
She blushed deeper. "That was really inappropriate. I basically just sexually assaulted you."
I chuckled. "Trust me, I didn't mind. Jack Reeves," I said smoothly, holding out my hand. "And you are?"
She hesitated, eyes flickering. "You just kissed me without my consent. I deserve to know your name."
"I know who you are," she replied quietly. "I'm Kate Hunt."
I raised a brow. "A pleasure to meet you, Kate Hunt," I said with a smirk. "You kiss every stranger that well?"
"I'm so sorry once again," she said quickly before dashing toward the exit.
"Hey, wait—at least let me buy you coffee after that!" I called out, but she was already gone.
I watched her hail a cab, climb in, and disappear into the night.
For a moment, I stood still, staring after her. Something about her intrigued me—the fire in her eyes, the way she didn't hesitate to use me as an escape.
"Bold," I muttered. "Very bold."
Not many women would dare to kiss a stranger just to shut a man up.
I chuckled to myself, a slow grin forming. "I think," I murmured, "I just found myself a wife."