s of an interior design magazine. Everything gleamed under soft morning light-white marble floors, a muted gray c

ce, amplifying the uneasy silence in her chest. The events of last night came rushing back-the rushed vows,

e door pulled her

lled, her voice h

orties, elegant in a crisp bla

tate's house manager. Mr. Sinclair has requeste

al title. "Thank you, Ele

ared, leaving behind the

windows revealing lush green beyond. Damien sat at the far end of the table, dressed i

id, eyes fixed on the

"Morning. Did we get married or

le. "Somethin

apkins, fine china, and breakfast that looked too symmetrica

you lay down the rules

ly looked at

ed back.

ttend social events together, maintain the illusion of

ou want me to play the

scretion a

differ

s, no public confessions, and no social media presence. My wo

barely use

eep it t

"What exactly are you

s, shareholders, and vultures. This marriage prov

me?" sh

re unconnected. No ambitions to climb, no obsessi

ore than it

under one roof. You'll have your own sui

y think I'm desperate t

ed, voice low. "Just...cu

ego the trouble.

over his face. Then he said, "The marriage lasts twelve

s roma

prac

ss merger. At least those

n compensated," he

for a long momen

e could get lost in-art halls, a music conservatory, a sprawling indoor garden. But no matte

en's image consultant. A force of energy wr

posture, and soften your tone," Jenna said whil

row. "What's wro

onest. We'l

n assembly line of elegance. Clothes would arrive in the morning. A

tching the sun dip below the trees. The silen

ck broke t

ere, casual now in slacks and a navy

?" he

epped

oks on her shelves, the canvases she'd

ber who I am before

"That's no

sharp. "You want a wife who knows the

sonal, Aria. This marriage-it's armor. A pe

lt?" she asked, stepping clos

unreadable. "You'll have it

o find something real beneath t

e said quietly, "we