I didn't understand how fast a life could change without prior notice.
Until mine did.
"Look at this."
The phone was practically shoved into my face.
I blinked, still half-asleep, my mind struggling to catch up as Liam's assistant stood at the foot of the bed, perfectly dressed, perfectly composed, her red lipstick reminding me of my monthly flow, while my world burned.
"What is it?" I muttered, sitting up.
"Your announcement."
My stomach dropped.
Right.
The marriage. The fake marriage.
The mistake that had become my reality overnight.
With trembling fingers, I took the phone.
And froze.
"BREAKING: Liam Knight Announces Sudden Marriage!" The Face Card takes a stunning bride!
"Mystery Woman Revealed as His Wife!"
"Scandal Turns Into Fairytale?"
Below the headlines were photos.
Not the scandal ones this time.
New ones.
Pictures with consent.
Carefully selected.
Edited.
Controlled.
Liam standing beside me, his hand resting on my waist like it belonged there. Like, it has always been there.
Me, looking stunned, flawless, breathtaking, but from the angle, it almost passed for shyness.
I swallowed hard.
"They already released this?"
"Yes," the assistant replied. "Across all platforms. The narrative has shifted."
Shifted?
Like my life was just a story to rewrite.
"What are people saying?" I asked quietly. A part of me wishing it were positive comments and that of acceptance.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second.
That was enough to tell me everything.
"Show me."
I scrolled.
And instantly wished I hadn't.
"She trapped him."
"Gold digger alert."
"No way he married her willingly."
"She's not even that pretty."
My chest tightened painfully.
Each comment felt like a slap.
A judgment from people who didn't know me or my situation and didn't care to.
I locked the phone and handed it back quickly.
"I get it," I said, forcing my shaky voice to be steady.
"They hate me."
"They're curious," she corrected politely. "Public opinion can be redirected."
I almost laughed.
"Good luck with that."
"Get dressed."
The voice came from the doorway.
I stiffened.
I hadn't even heard him come in.
Liam stood there, already in a tailored suit, looking like the scandal hadn't touched him at all.
He looked like a ravishing meal to devour.
Well shaved, his cologne drawing my nose to inhale it deeply. I felt a drip down there
Perfect.
Untouchable.
Like always.
"We're leaving in ten minutes," he added.
"Leaving? Where?"
"To the mansion."
My stomach dropped again.
Right.
Of course.
A billionaire wouldn't live in a penthouse alone.
He had a mansion.
Because why not make this situation even more overwhelming?
"I don't have anything to wear," I said.
His gaze swept over me briefly.
Cold. Assessing. Digesting.
"You'll be provided with everything you need."
Of course I would.
Because I wasn't a person here.
I was part of the image.
The drive was silent.
Painfully silent.
I sat stiffly beside him in the back of the car like a doll, my hands clenched in my lap as the city blurred past.
Everything felt unreal.
Like I had stepped into someone else's life. A borrowed image.
A dangerous one.
I glanced at him.
Liam was scrolling through his phone, his expression unreadable.
"How are you so calm?" I asked before I could stop myself.
He didn't look up.
"Because panic doesn't solve problems. Logic and strategy does."
Easy for him to say.
This was his world.
I was just trapped in it.
A life I have never lived before.
When the gates opened,
I forgot how to breathe.
The mansion was massive.
White stone. Tall glass windows. Perfect landscaping.
It looked like something out of a movie. He had a good taste.
Or a life I would never belong to.
"We're here," Liam said.
I didn't move.
"Zara?"
I blinked, snapping out of it.
"Right."
I stepped out of the car.
And immediately felt it.
Eyes.
Watching.
Staff lined near the entrance, all neatly dressed, all silent… all staring.
At me.
Judging.
Measuring.
Whispering without words.
My chest tightened.
This was worse than the internet.
At least online, I couldn't see their faces.
"Welcome home, sir," one of them said, bowing slightly.
Liam gave a small nod.
Then, with a firm and straight face.
"This is my wife."
The word hit me like a shockwave.
Wife?
The staff's attention shifted fully to me.
And the atmosphere changed.
Subtly.
But I felt it.
Some were curious.
Some were surprised.
And some showed no emotions.
Cold.
"Follow me," Liam said.
I quickly stepped beside him, grateful to escape their stares.
But not fast enough.
"She doesn't look like his type," I heard someone whisper.
And I find myself getting curious about his type of girl.
"Must be the scandal girl," another murmured.
Heat rushed to my face.
I kept walking.
Pretending I didn't hear.
Pretending it didn't hurt.
"Stop."
Liam's voice cut through the hallway.
I froze.
So did everyone else.
Slowly, he turned.
His gaze locked onto the staff behind us.
Cold.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
"If anyone here has something to say," he said calmly,
"say it where I can hear it."
Silence.
Thick. Immediate.
"No one?" he continued.
His eyes darkened slightly.
"Then let me make this clear."
My heart started racing.
"This woman is my beautiful wife," he said, his voice low but firm. "You will treat her with the same respect you accord me."
The air shifted.
Completely.
"Or you won't work here."
No one spoke.
No one moved.
But I saw it,
The change.
Fear.
Respect.
Acceptance, even if forced, it was visible.
Liam turned back to me like nothing had happened.
"Come."
My heart was still pounding as I followed him upstairs.
I didn't understand it.
He didn't even like me.
Didn't trust me.
Yet…
He defended me.
Why?
"This is your room."
I stepped inside,
And froze again.
It was huge.
Elegant.
Beautiful.
Too much.
His bed calling unto me,
"I can't stay here," I said immediately.
"Yes, you can."
"No, I mean, this is your room."
"And?"
I turned to him. "We're not actually, you know.
"We're married," he cut in.
My chest tightened.
"For the public," I argued.
"For everyone," he corrected.
I shook my head. "We agreed on no real relationship."
"And we won't have one."
"Then why are we sharing a room?"
His gaze held mine for a second too long. I saw it, a flash of pleasure and a smirk.
"Because that's what married couples do."
My heart skipped.
"This is unnecessary."
"No," he said calmly, "it's convincing."
I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came.
Then stopped.
Because I realized something.
This wasn't just about the media.
This was about control.
His control.
"Fine," I muttered, looking away to break the unsettled feeling raging through my thighs.
"But we keep our distance."
"Obviously."
That shouldn't have annoyed me.
But it did.
There was a brief silence.
"Unpack," he said. "We have dinner tonight."
I frowned. "Dinner?" Like, dinner?
"With investors."
My stomach dropped.
"You want me to meet your investors?"
Sure.
"I need you to," he corrected.
"This is insane."
"This is necessary."
I let out a frustrated breath.
"I don't belong in your world. I don't know how to function in this world."
His gaze softened.
Just slightly.
"You do now."
And for some reason,
That felt more like a warning than reassurance.
As he turned to leave, I spoke again.
"Liam."
He paused.
I hesitated… then asked the question that had been sitting in my chest all day.
"Why are you really doing this?"
I want an answer.
Not the media answer.
Not the image.
The truth.
For a moment…
He didn't respond.
Then he looked at me.
And something in his expression changed.
Darkened with intense pleasure.
"This isn't over," he said quietly.
A chill ran down my spine.
"My enemies aren't done."
His gaze locked onto mine.
"And now…"
My breath caught.
"They're watching you too."
The door closed behind him.
And for the first time since this started,
I truly felt it.
Not just fear.
Not just pressure.
But danger.
Real danger I can't identify yet.
Because of this marriage, the pretense.
It wasn't just fake.
It was a battlefield.
And I had just stepped right into the middle of it.