Anne stared at the open closet in her new room, arms crossed, lips pursed. The shelves were empty, save for a few shopping bags and the suitcase she had brought from her apartment. Rayden had given her access to a luxury wardrobe through his assistant, but she hadn't dared to touch anything yet.
Every outfit she owned felt too plain, too pedestrian for the home she was now living in.
She sighed, pulling out a basic cream blouse and holding it against her body. "Too dull."
Then a soft knock interrupted her train of thought.
"Miss Anne?" One of the maids peeked her head into the room, voice polite but firm. "Mr. Brian is waiting for you downstairs."
Anne blinked. "Brian?"
"Yes, ma'am. He said it's urgent."
Moments later, she found Brian waiting near the grand staircase, dressed in his usual crisp grey suit. "We're going shopping," he said without preamble.
"For what?" Anne asked, eyeing him with suspicion.
"For you. Clothes, accessories, makeup—the whole package." He handed her a pair of sunglasses. "You're the fiancée of Rayden Lancaster now. You can't walk into a press conference looking like a college intern."
Anne's eyes widened. "Is this really necessary?"
Brian smirked. "Very."
___
Their first stop was a high-end boutique in one of the city's most exclusive malls. Anne tried to protest the prices, but Brian waved off her concern like a mosquito.
"Choose what you like," he said. "Within reason."
Anne trailed her fingers along the fabrics, her movements awkward. Every time she picked something up, her brain automatically calculated the price against how many days she could've survived on instant noodles instead.
Flashbacks flickered in her mind.
A year ago, she had gone shopping with Hana at a drugstore. Hana had tried out high-end foundation testers while Anne settled for a two-dollar lip balm on sale. It had been a splurge for her. Even then, she had regretted it a little.
Now she was here—shopping for semi-formal dresses worth more than her entire monthly rent.
After several rounds of encouragement, Anne came out of the dressing room wearing a soft rose-colored dress that hugged her curves modestly. Brian raised his brows in surprise, then smiled.
Without saying anything, he took out his phone and snapped a photo.
"What was that?" Anne asked, startled.
"Nothing," he replied too quickly, shoving the phone back in his pocket.
What he didn't say was that the photo was already being sent to Rayden.
___
In his office, Rayden's phone buzzed.
He glanced at the message from Brian and opened the image.
For a moment, he forgot to breathe.
It wasn't the dress or the styling—it was the smile. That rare, hesitant smile Anne wore, as though she hadn't realized yet that she was beautiful.
He suddenly wished he had gone with them.
But before he could dwell on the feeling, the door swung open.
"Rayden."
His mother's voice was like the slicing edge of a letter opener.
Eleanor Lancaster stepped in, poised as ever, eyes sharp with suspicion. "I heard you brought a woman home."
Rayden didn't flinch. "So the maid reported me, huh? You're not even pretending anymore."
Eleanor chuckled without humor. "You forget, son. Nothing in this city stays hidden for long. Especially not in your own house."
Rayden leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. "She's my fiancée."
"Fiancée?" Her tone dripped with disbelief. "And here I thought you'd at least choose someone with a recognizable last name."
Rayden's jaw tightened. "I chose her because I wanted to."
Eleanor walked around his desk, studying him like a creature she couldn't quite understand. "Rayden, love has never been part of this equation. You know that. Marriages are contracts—alliances. Like your father and I."
Rayden chuckled bitterly. "Exactly why I'm not listening to you."
She stared at him for a long moment before smoothing the front of her designer blouse. "Do what you want. But don't expect me to welcome her with open arms."
"I never asked you to," Rayden replied.
But as Eleanor turned to leave, her last words hung heavy in the air: "You think you're in control, but you're not. I will be watching."
____
Meanwhile, Anne was licking the last of her salted caramel ice cream while sitting on a bench outside the mall. Brian sat beside her, finishing off his cup of choco-mint.
"You seriously enjoy that flavor?" she teased. "You've got questionable taste."
Brian looked mildly offended. "It's refreshing."
"It tastes like toothpaste and betrayal."
They both laughed.
For the first time, Anne felt like she could breathe around him.
"Brian," she said after a beat, "why are you helping me like this?"
He leaned back. "Because if you're going to play this game, you need someone on your side."
Anne grew quiet. "What should I know about Rayden's family?"
Brian didn't sugarcoat it.
"His mother, Eleanor, is... complicated. She doesn't believe in love unless it comes with a pedigree. She'll likely try to bribe you. Or scare you. Or both."
Anne's stomach turned.
"She won't accept me."
"No," Brian admitted. "Not easily. But that's not your battle to fight. Let Rayden deal with it. Just stick close to him. No matter what happens."
Anne nodded slowly.
Brian continued, "Rayden has a younger brother. Rio. He's a painter—bit of a recluse, very different from Rayden."
Anne blinked. "A painter?"
"Don't look so surprised. Not everyone in that family wants to be a shark."
Anne smiled, tucking the name 'Rio' into the back of her mind.
___
Later that evening, as Anne stood in front of her new vanity, admiring the way her dress fit, a strange feeling fluttered in her chest.
She wasn't ready for any of this.
But she was already too deep.
Just as she turned to reach for her earrings, a knock came at the bedroom door.
"Miss Anne?" one of the maids said nervously. "There's... a visitor downstairs. She's Mr. Rayden's mother."
Anne froze.
The earrings in her hand clattered to the floor.
Eleanor Lancaster was here.
And Anne wasn't ready. At All.