Natalie's POV
Adrian didn't come home that night.
I stayed awake until 3 AM, watching the door, jumping at every sound. My phone sat silent on the coffee table, no texts, no calls, nothing.
He'd gone to meet Vanessa at 8 PM. It was now almost dawn.
Where was he?
I tried calling. Straight to voicemail. I texted Daniel. No response.
The video Vanessa sent played on repeat in my mind—Adrian and her, laughing together, looking like they belonged to each other. Looking like they were in love.
You're just temporary.
Maybe I was.
Finally, at 6 AM, I heard the elevator. The penthouse door opened.
Adrian walked in, tie gone, shirt wrinkled, hair messy. He looked exhausted.
And guilty.
Where have you been? I demanded, jumping up from the couch.
Handling things. His voice was flat.
For ten hours? What could possibly take ten hours?
Natalie, I'm tired. Can we do this later?
No. We can't. I moved closer, searching his face. What happened with Vanessa?
I convinced her not to release the photo.
How?
Silence.
How, Adrian?
Does it matter? The threat's gone. We're safe.
It matters if you I couldn't finish the sentence. If he'd kissed her. If he'd promised to leave me. If he'd realized Vanessa was what he actually wanted.
I didn't do anything I'll regret, he said quietly. I negotiated. That's all.
Negotiated what?
A deal. She keeps quiet about the contract. In exchange— He stopped.
In exchange for what?
In exchange, I agreed to have lunch with her once a month. Friendly. Public. Show her I don't hate her.
My stomach dropped. You're going to see your ex-fiancée regularly while married to me?
It's the only way she'd agree.
That's insane, Adrian! She's obsessed with you. Giving her access will only make it worse!
I know. He rubbed his face. But it was that or let her destroy both of us. I made a choice.
The wrong choice. But what could I say? This marriage was fake anyway. Why did it bother me so much that he'd be seeing Vanessa?
Fine, I said, voice cold. Do whatever you want. This is just business, right?
Something flickered in his eyes, hurt, maybe. Right. Just business.
He walked past me to his bedroom and closed the door.
I stood there shaking with anger and something that felt dangerously like jealousy.
This was temporary. Just business. I couldn't care who Adrian saw or what he did.
But I did care.
And that terrified me.
I threw myself into work to forget.
A potential client wanted a corporate gala for five hundred people. It was exactly the kind of high-profile event that could rebuild my reputation, if I didn't mess it up.
I worked at the dining table for hours, creating proposals, sketching floor plans, researching venues. My eyes blurred from staring at the laptop screen, but I kept pushing.
I had to prove I could do this on my own. That I didn't need Adrian's money or connections or help.
That I was more than just a contract wife.
Around midnight, my eyes started closing on their own. Just a quick rest, I told myself. Five minutes...
Natalie.
A gentle voice pulled me from sleep. A hand on my shoulder, warm and careful.
You'll hurt your neck sleeping like this.
I blinked awake. Adrian stood beside me, still in his work clothes, looking at me with something soft in his eyes.
What time is it? I mumbled, disoriented.
Two AM. I just got home and found you passed out on your laptop. He closed my computer gently. Come on. You need actual sleep.
I was working—
I can see that. But you won't accomplish anything if you're exhausted. He picked up my laptop and notes. I'll put these in your room. You should get to bed.
I stood on shaky legs, still half-asleep. Adrian steadied me with his free hand.
Careful, he said softly.
He walked me to my bedroom, set my laptop on the desk, and turned to leave.
Adrian? My voice stopped him at the door.
Yeah?
Thank you. For not letting me sleep all twisted up like that.
Something crossed his face, surprise, maybe, that I'd thanked him for something so small.
Goodnight, Natalie, he said quietly.
Goodnight.
He left, closing the door gently behind him.
I climbed into bed, my heart doing strange things in my chest.
This wasn't in the contract. The gentleness. The care. The way he'd looked at me like I mattered.
This was dangerous.
The next morning, I woke to the smell of coffee.
And bacon?
I stumbled into the kitchen and stopped dead.
The dining table was set with breakfast, scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, fresh orange juice. My favorite yogurt with granola. Even a small vase with a single flower.
Adrian sat at the table with his laptop, working as usual. But he glanced up when I entered.
Morning, he said.
Did you... make breakfast?
I ordered it. Figured you'd be hungry after working so late. He gestured to the seat across from him. Eat. You need energy for whatever you're planning today.
I sat slowly, completely confused. Why?
Why what?
Why are you being nice to me?
He looked genuinely puzzled. Am I not usually nice?
You're usually... distant. Professional. This is I gestured at the food. This is different.
Maybe I'm trying to be less distant. He returned to his laptop. We live together. We're married. Might as well not be miserable.
It made sense. Practical sense. But it felt like more than that.
I ate in silence, hyperaware of him across the table. The way he frowned at his screen. The way he absently ran his hand through his hair. Small things I shouldn't notice.
Small things I couldn't stop noticing.
How's the event planning going? Adrian asked suddenly.
Good. I think. Potential big client. Corporate gala.
Which company?
I told him. His eyebrows rose.
That's Marcus's biggest competitor. If you land that account, it'll make my brother furious.
Good, I said. After how he treated me at dinner, he deserves it.
Adrian smiled, actually smiled. Not the cold, controlled expression he usually wore, but something real and warm.
You're tougher than you look, he said.
I have to be. Your family would eat me alive otherwise.
They'd try. But I think you'd hold your own. His eyes held mine. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for.
The compliment shouldn't have made my cheeks warm. But it did.
Thank you, I said quietly.
Just stating facts.
We finished breakfast, and Adrian disappeared into his office for a conference call. I cleaned up, my mind spinning.
What was happening? Why was Adrian being so... nice?
Was it guilt about Vanessa? Or was it something else?
That evening, Adrian came home at a reasonable hour again—seven PM.
Twice in one week, I said. Are you feeling okay?
Funny. But he almost smiled. Have you eaten?
Not yet.
Want to order something? We could eat together. Actually talk instead of avoiding each other.
My heart skipped. Okay. Sure.
We ordered Italian and sat at the dining table, closer this time, not at opposite ends.
Tell me about this gala you're planning, Adrian said.
So I did. And somehow, we ended up talking for an hour. About work, about my parents' restaurant, about his frustrations with the company board.
Real conversation. Not the careful, polite exchanges we usually managed.
Adrian listened when I talked, really listened, asking questions, remembering details. And when he spoke about the pressure of running Blackwell Pharmaceuticals, I saw past the cold CEO to the exhausted man underneath.
I never wanted this, you know, he admitted. The company. The responsibility. I wanted to be a doctor originally. Help people directly instead of through business.
What stopped you?
My father. My grandfather. The entire Blackwell legacy bearing down on me from birth. His voice turned bitter. I was five years old when my grandfather explained that my life wasn't mine. It belonged to the family. To the company. To maintaining the dynasty.
That's terrible, Adrian.
That's the Blackwell way. He looked at me. That's why I chose this arrangement with you. A contract I could control. Terms I understood. No messy emotions I didn't know how to handle.
And now?
Now it's more complicated than I planned.
The words hung between us, heavy with meaning.
How complicated? I whispered.
Adrian opened his mouth to answer
His phone rang. Daniel's name flashed on the screen.
Adrian answered, his expression changing from open to closed in seconds. What? When? His eyes cut to me. I see. Yes. Handle it. I'll be there in twenty minutes.
He hung up, jaw clenched.
What's wrong? I asked.
Eleanor just called an emergency family meeting. Tonight. At the estate. She specifically demanded you be there too.
My stomach dropped. Why? What happened?
Someone sent her an anonymous package. Photos and documents about our marriage. His voice turned grim. Natalie, she knows something's wrong. And she's planning to expose us in front of the entire family.
Vanessa, I breathed. She didn't keep her word. She's destroying us anyway.
Maybe. Or maybe someone else is playing games. He stood, grabbing his keys. Either way, we're walking into an ambush. Whatever Eleanor throws at us tonight, we stick to our story. We're in love. This marriage is real. No matter what evidence she thinks she has.
And if she has proof we can't explain away?
Then we bluff better than she does. He held out his hand. Ready to fight for our fake marriage?
I took his hand. His fingers wrapped around mine, warm and steady.
Ready as I'll ever be.
The drive to the Hamptons was tense and silent.
Adrian's jaw stayed clenched. I twisted my wedding ring around my finger nervously.
Whatever happens in there, Adrian said as we pulled up to the estate, don't let her intimidate you. Eleanor will try to break you down. Stay strong.
I can handle your grandmother.
Can you? He looked at me seriously. Because she's going to say things designed to hurt. To make you doubt yourself. To make you run.
I won't run.
Promise me. No matter what she says, you won't run. We face this together.
The intensity in his voice surprised me. Together, I agreed.
We walked into the mansion holding hands.
The entire family waited in the formal living room. Eleanor sat in the center like a judge about to deliver a verdict. Victoria perched beside her, lips curved in anticipation. Marcus lounged on the couch, watching with obvious interest. Richard stood by the window, phone in hand as always.
And in the corner, my heart stopped, sat Lily.
My cousin. The one who'd caused all my debt. The one I hadn't spoken to since discovering she'd been feeding information to the Blackwells.
What was she doing here?
Adrian. Natalie. How kind of you to join us. Eleanor's voice dripped with false warmth. We have so much to discuss about your... marriage.
She pulled out a file folder, set it on the coffee table.
Would you like to tell the family the truth? Eleanor asked. Or shall I do it for you?
Adrian's hand tightened on mine.
I don't know what you're talking about, Grandmother.
No? Eleanor opened the folder. Then perhaps you can explain these.
She spread photos across the table.
My blood turned to ice.
The photos showed Adrian and me at the courthouse, but not the public ceremony. These were from before, in Daniel's office, signing the contract. Crystal clear images of the header: CONTRACTUAL MARRIAGE AGREEMENT.
Different photos than Vanessa had sent. Different angle. Different time.
Someone else had been documenting our arrangement from the beginning.
I received these this afternoon, Eleanor said coldly. Along with a very detailed letter explaining that your marriage is a fraud. A business transaction designed to manipulate the family trust.
She looked at Lily. From your own cousin, Natalie. How very enlightening.
Lily wouldn't meet my eyes.
She'd betrayed me. Again.
But this time, she hadn't just sold information.
She'd sold proof.
So, Eleanor said, voice sharp as a knife. Would you like to confess? Or shall I have my lawyers invalidate this sham marriage by tomorrow morning?
Adrian stepped forward, his voice deadly calm.
You won't do that, Grandmother.
And why not?
Because if you invalidate the marriage, you invalidate the trust terms. Which means the company goes into legal limbo. The board loses confidence. Stock prices tank. And the Blackwell empire you've spent seventy years building collapses in scandal.
Eleanor's eyes narrowed. You're bluffing.
Try me. Adrian pulled out his phone. I have reporters on speed dial who would love this story. 'Blackwell Matriarch Destroys Own Family Legacy Over Contract Dispute.' That's a headline that trends for weeks.
Silence.
Eleanor and Adrian stared at each other, two chess masters locked in a game neither could afford to lose.
You've become ruthless, Eleanor said finally. Almost approvingly.
I learned from you.
And her? Eleanor gestured at me. What happens to your contract wife when this blows up? Because it will blow up, Adrian. Secrets always do.
Natalie stays, Adrian said firmly. She's my wife. Contract or not, she's mine. And I protect what's mine.
The possessiveness in his voice sent shivers down my spine.
Eleanor smiled coldly. We'll see how long that lasts. Everyone has a price, dear boy. Even love.
She stood, gathering the photos. I'll give you one month. One month to prove this marriage is real. If I find any evidence—any at all—that you're still playing games, I will destroy you both. Understood?
Crystal clear, Adrian said.
Eleanor swept from the room. The family followed—Victoria smirking, Marcus looking disappointed the show was over, Richard still glued to his phone.
Lily remained, tears streaming down her face.
Nat, I'm so sorry
Get out, I said, voice shaking.
They paid me fifty thousand dollars
I don't care. Get. Out.
She fled.
Adrian and I stood alone in the huge room, the photos of our contract spread across the table like evidence at a crime scene.
One month, I whispered. We have to convince your grandmother our marriage is real in one month.
Yes.
How do we do that?
Adrian turned to me, his ice-blue eyes intense and unreadable.
We stop pretending, he said quietly.
What?
We stop keeping distance. Stop maintaining boundaries. Stop living like strangers. He moved closer. For the next month, we act like a real married couple. In public and in private. Complete commitment. Total immersion. Whatever it takes to sell this.
My heart hammered. You mean—
I mean we share a bedroom. We have meals together. We act like we're actually in love. His voice dropped. Can you do that, Natalie? Can you pretend to love me convincingly enough to fool the most suspicious woman in New York?
I should have said no. Should have insisted on maintaining our original boundaries.
But looking at Adrian, at this complicated, damaged man who'd just defended me against his entire family, I realized something terrifying.
I might not have to pretend at all.
Yes, I whispered. I can do that.
Then starting tonight, things change between us. He held out his hand. Ready to make this marriage look real?
I took his hand.
And wondered if making it look real would end up making it feel real.
And what would happen when the month was over and we had to go back to pretending we didn't care.
If we even could.