Iris POV
The penthouse bedroom has floor-to-ceiling windows that show the entire city. But Iris wakes up every morning thinking the same thing.
Today he finds out.
She knows this isn't sustainable. She knows that living a lie gets harder the longer you live it. That sooner or later, the truth becomes too heavy to carry. But she's carrying it anyway, day after day, moment after moment.
James is still sleeping. He's on his side facing her. His face is soft when he's sleeping. Less controlled. More real. She watches him breathe and tries to memorize what this feels like. Because she knows it won't last.
She gets out of bed carefully so she doesn't wake him.
In the bathroom, she looks at herself in the mirror. Eleanor Marsh looks back. The reflection of a woman who doesn't exist. The woman James married. The woman he loves.
She touches the gold band on her finger and feels it like a weight.
James appears in the doorway. He's shirtless. His hair is messy. He looks like he just woke up because he did.
"Good morning," he says, and he says it like she's the first thing he wants to see when he opens his eyes.
"Good morning," she says back.
He wraps his arms around her from behind and pulls her back against him. She leans into him because what else can she do. She's his wife now. She chose this.
"I was thinking," he says into her hair, "we should take a trip. Somewhere far away. Just us. No business. No distractions. Just you and me."
"That sounds nice," she says, and she means it. She means it so much that it hurts.
"We could go to Europe," he continues. "I know you said you always wanted to travel. We could go anywhere. Do anything."
She closes her eyes and lets herself imagine it. A version of her life where she's real. Where she didn't witness a murder. Where she doesn't have a crime boss hunting her. Where she married James because she loved him, not because she needed him.
"That sounds perfect," she whispers.
He turns her around and kisses her forehead. Then her nose. Then her lips. He kisses her like she's something precious. Like she's something worth protecting.
She kisses him back and tries not to think about how much he's going to hate her when he finds out.
By midday, Iris is sitting in the penthouse alone.
James is at work. She's tried to go with him before, but he prefers when she stays home. Says the office is boring. Says he'd rather come home to her than spend the day with her surrounded by work.
She understands what he's really saying. He doesn't trust her around his team. He doesn't want people asking questions. He doesn't want anyone to notice that his wife doesn't exist.
She sits at the piano he bought her and doesn't play.
Playing means feeling things. Feeling things is dangerous right now.
Instead, she opens her laptop. She checks the news. She looks for updates on Marcus's trial. She tries to understand what's happening in the world outside this beautiful cage.
An article catches her eye. A man was arrested. Someone in the witness protection program was found. Iris reads the details with growing horror. They found him because someone in the system is feeding information to Marcus.
Someone is betraying people like her.
Her phone buzzes with a text from Detective Price. "We need to talk. It's not safe anymore."
She deletes the message.
But her hands are shaking.
When James comes home that evening, he finds her sitting on the couch staring at nothing.
"What's wrong?" he asks immediately.
She's gotten used to him noticing. Used to the way he reads her mood like it's a language only he understands.
"Nothing," she says. "Just tired."
He sits next to her and takes her hand. "Eleanor, I need you to tell me what's really going on. I need you to tell me the truth about what you're running from. I can help you if you just let me in."
This is the moment. This is when she could tell him everything. She could tell him about Marcus. About the murder. About the witness protection program. About why she married him.
She could be honest.
"I can't," she whispers.
"Why not?" he asks, and his voice has an edge now. An edge that sounds like hurt.
"Because if I tell you, you'll hate me," she says, and it's the truest thing she's said to him since they met.
He's quiet for a long moment.
"I could never hate you," he finally says. But his hand is still in hers and she can feel the doubt. Feel the uncertainty.
That night, she lies awake listening to him sleep.
She thinks about the moment when everything breaks. She thinks about his face when he finds out that Eleanor Marsh is a fake name. That she married him to hide from a crime boss. That she used his protection the way someone would use a shield.
She thinks about the exact moment when love turns into betrayal in his eyes.
She's so afraid that she's actually shaking.
Her phone vibrates on the nightstand. She carefully reaches over and checks it. Another text from an unknown number.
"He doesn't know yet. But he will. And when he does, he won't be able to protect you anymore. Because he'll be too busy hating you."
She deletes the message.
But she doesn't sleep.
By morning, she's made a decision.
She needs to protect James from this. She needs to get out before Marcus can use her to hurt him. She needs to disappear so that the danger disappears with her.
She starts packing a bag. Just clothes. Just the essentials. Just the things she can take without him noticing.
James finds her in the closet with her suitcase open.
His entire face changes.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"I have to leave," she says.
"No, you don't," he says. It's not a request. It's a statement. "You're not leaving me."
"You don't understand—" she starts.
"I understand that you're my wife," he says. His voice is hard now. Hard in a way she's never heard before. "I understand that you married me. I understand that you're not going anywhere."
"James, if I stay here, you're in danger. Marcus will use me against you. He'll use you to hurt me. I can't let that happen."
"Then tell me the truth," he demands. "Tell me everything. Tell me who you really are. Tell me what I'm protecting you from. Trust me."
She wants to. She wants to trust him so badly that it physically hurts.
"I can't," she says.
"Then you can't leave either," he says. "You're my wife. You exist in this world now. You exist in my life. And that means you don't get to make decisions alone anymore."
He says it like it's a promise.
It sounds more like a threat.
She closes her suitcase.
Three weeks later, Iris is playing piano when James comes home early.
He's holding a stack of papers.
His face is completely blank.
She stops playing immediately.
"What's that?" she asks, but she already knows.
"Birth certificates," he says quietly. "Passports. Documents. I was looking for your birth certificate so we could plan a real wedding with my family. Something public. Something that makes you official."
He holds up the papers.
"Imagine my surprise," he continues, "when I found these instead."
She stands up slowly.
"James—"
"Who are you?" he asks. His voice is so cold that she barely recognizes it. "What's your real name? Why did you marry me?"
She tries to speak but no words come out.
"Eleanor Marsh is a fake," he says. It's not a question. "Everything about you is a lie."
"Not everything," she whispers. "The way I feel about you is real. That's not a lie."
"Then why did you marry me?" he demands.
She looks at him and sees the moment when love is starting to die. She sees the exact second when trust becomes something else. Something darker.
"I married you because I was desperate," she says. "I married you because you were powerful and I needed protection. I married you to survive."
His jaw clenches.
"I married you for protection," she continues, "but I stayed because I fell in love with you. That part is real. That part is true."
He turns away from her.
"I don't believe anything you say anymore," he says.
And then he leaves the penthouse, taking her only shield with him.
She's alone again. Just like before. But this time, it's worse.
This time, she has something to lose.
And Marcus knows it.