Sunday morning.
I wanted to die.
I was currently submerged in a bathtub that was roughly the size of a small swimming pool.
The bathroom was a masterpiece of heated marble floors, gold fixtures, and enough specialized lighting to film a high-budget skincare commercial. I let the vanilla-scented bubbles crest over my shoulders, trying to drown out the one thing that wouldn't leave: the memory of Adrian's hands on the wall beside my head.
Get out of my head. Get out, get out, get out.
I dunked my head underwater, held it there until my lungs burned, and then burst upward, gasping. It didn't work. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those gray eyes tracking my movement in the gym.
"Focus, Alex," I hissed at the faucets. "He's a means to an end. A fifteen-million-dollar end."
I climbed out, wrapped myself in a plush white towel that felt like being hugged by a cloud, and began the arduous process of drying my hair. I stepped into the bedroom, a space so massive I half-expected to find its own weather system, and sat on the edge of the silk-covered mattress.
Knock. Knock.
The door swung open before I could even process the sound.
"Hey—!" I yelped, clutching the towel to my chest as if my life depended on it. "Get out of here! Ever heard of privacy?"
Adrian stood in the doorway, looking entirely too comfortable. He had a simple tank top on and a pair of sweatpants. He didn't even flinch.
"Please," he scoffed, his gaze raking over me with indifference. "I have seen bras before, Alex. And we lived in the same house for two years. This isn't a Victorian novel."
"And so? That was ten years ago! Get out of here!"
He rolled his eyes and walked past me toward a massive walk-in closet. "I forgot my cufflinks for the wedding tomorrow. And a watch." He pulled open a drawer, rummaging through silk ties and leather boxes. "Besides, you'd better get used to this. We'll have to share this bedroom starting tomorrow so the marriage looks believable to the staff and the board."
I glared at his back, my face burning. "Whatever. I can do that. Just not while I'm in a towel."
He turned around, his hand holding a sleek silver watch. He stopped, his eyes locking onto mine. For a heartbeat, the arrogance wavered, replaced by that dark, simmering intensity I had seen in the gym. I stared back, unable to look away, my heart thumping.
"Hurry up," he said abruptly, breaking the spell. "You look like they dipped you in hot water and left you to die. My grandmother is due here in twenty minutes."
"I—you—!"
He closed the door before I could hurl a pillow at his head. I did the next best thing: I threw myself face-down into the silk pillows and screamed until my throat hurt.
~
By the time the doorbell rang, I was "Miss Calloway, the respectable fiancée." I had chosen a soft cream blouse and tailored trousers. Cecily, a sweet-faced maid with a permanent smile, had helped me find my way down the labyrinthine hallways.
"Master Adrian has stepped out for a moment," Cecily chirped. "But Madam Beatrice Reyes is just arriving."
I braced myself for a dragon. A woman who had raised a man like Adrian had to be made of iron and judgment.
Then she walked in.
Madam Beatrice Reyes was timeless. Her hair was a cloud of elegant white, styled in a chic bob, and she wore a Chanel suit with more grace than a runway model. She looked me up and down, and for a second, I felt like she would squash me.
Then, she smiled. It was a heart touching thing that crinkled the corners of her eyes.
"Hello, love," she said, her voice like velvet. "You must be my grandson's fiancée."
I was floored. "I.…..yes. Hello, Madam Reyes. I am Alexandra Calloway."
"It's lovely to meet you," She pulled me into a soft embrace, smelling of jasmine and old money. Then, she leaned in and whispered into my ear, "I know this is a lie, dear. This wedding."
I froze. My blood turned to ice. "Oh.….I don't know what you possibly—"
"Shhhh," she tutted, pulling back and patting my cheek. "It's alright. I have grown quite attached to Adrian, and I don't mind if he gets someone temporary. I just want him to look less like a miserable statue all the time. And I think I'll like you."
She winked at me.
Oh…this is….surprising.
She was.….sweet? Genuinely kind? I felt like the floor had shifted, and frankly, felt relieved than she knew about it.
She was quite clever for her age, I had to give her.
"Now," she announced, hooking her arm through mine. "We have a wedding to dress for."
~
We spent the afternoon in a private boutique that smelled of champagne. I tried on a dozen gowns until we found The One: a stunning halter-neck dress in ivory silk that left my back bare and pooled around my feet like liquid starlight.
"It's gorgeous," Beatrice whispered. "Adrian won't be able to breathe." She paid for it before I could even see the price tag, waving off my protests with a flick of her diamond-clad wrist.
As we drove back in her private car, Beatrice watched me. "How did you know my grandson, Alexandra?"
I stuttered, "Well.… we... we grew up in the same house for a while. Our parents..."
She smiled knowingly. "It's alright, dear. If it's difficult for you to tell me the rest, you can do so another time."
Aww. Why is she so sweet?
"Thank you, Madam—"
"Please, call me Beatrice." She interrupted me, throwing another warm smile my way. I didn't know what to do with the sheer love in it, so I looked out the window, expecting to see the estate.
We weren't at the estate.
"We're not home yet?"
"Heavens, no. I wanted to take you out! To get some ice cream!" She said like it was the most normal thing.
"Ice cream?" I blinked.
"Yes darling!" I like ice cream too!"
Oh.
We ended up at a high-end parlor, bodyguards flanking the entrance. I ordered for a strawberry flavoured ice-cream, and as we settled to descend upon our snacks, I could feel the flashes of cameras from across the street.
"Smile, darling," Beatrice murmured, licking a spoonful of mint chip. "Always smile. Give them something beautiful to look at."
"Alright, I can do that," I said cheerfully, giving my best smile. Ease bloomed in my chest as she offered me a spoon of her mint. For the first time in weeks, no years, I felt loved, and I came extremely close to crying.
Beatrice filled me in on some rather ridiculous stories of Adrian, and I had to hold myself together so I didn't fall off from my laughter.
When we finally pulled back into the estate, a black Maybach was already there.
Adrian.
He was leaning against the hood, dressed in a tight black long-sleeve top that showed off every muscle in his torso. He looked effortlessly, annoyingly sexy.
"Hello, Grandmother," he said as we stepped out.
"Hello, darling," Beatrice kissed his cheek. "Your fiancée is lovely. A real treasure."
I felt my cheeks heat up. "I..."
Adrian looked at me, his gaze sweeping over my face, softened by the afternoon sun. "I know," he said softly. "She really is."
My heart skipped a beat. Was he pretending? For his grandmother? Or was that.….real?
No way to find out.
"Well," Beatrice announced, stepping back into her car. "I must go now. I'll see you tomorrow at the altar! It was a pleasure meeting you, Alexandra!"
As her car pulled away, the silence returned. Adrian looked at me, then at the shopping bags. "Usually, women try to get fit before getting married. You spent the afternoon eating ice cream like a cow."
The tender moment died a swift, brutal death.
"They do that when they're marrying a reasonable man they actually like," I snapped. "You're not reasonable. You're the Devil in Prada, but with worse interpersonal skills."
Adrian actually chuckled, and it made my stomach flip. "Really?"
"Did I say something funny?"
"I believe you did."
"Fine. I should audition for the role of a clown then."
"You should," he countered.
We looked at each other, the old bickering rhythm from our teen years falling into place. For a second, we both chuckled, the tension breaking into what felt dangerously like friendship.
Then I remembered who he was. And what tomorrow was. I cleared my throat, stepping back. "Well. I must get my sleep. Wedding tomorrow and all."
"Hmm, yes," Adrian said, his face returning to its serious mask.
"By the way," I added quickly, "your grandmother knows this is fake."
Adrian let out a long, frustrated groan, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Nothing gets past that woman. Goddammit."
I couldn't help a small smile. "I guess so."
He looked at me then, his eyes searching mine as if he were about to say something, something important. He stepped forward, his hand twitching as if to reach for me, but then he just let out another heavy breath.
"Goodnight, Alex."
Hmm.
"Goodnight, Adrian."