~Reid~The photo showed up in my inbox at noon.The subject line was neutral — Managing Optics — but the attachment hit like a punch to the gut.I shouldn’t have opened it. Should’ve let my PR team handle whatever crisis they were warning me about and focused on the Zurich deal. But my gut told me this wasn’t about business.And my gut was right.Fallon’s face filled my screen — all sunlight and easy laughter, her head tilted back, her hair spilling over one bare shoulder. She looked… happy.And she wasn’t alone.The guy sitting next to her was tall, broad, and entirely too comfortable in her space. His arm rested casually along the back of her chair, his body angled toward hers like he belonged there. Like he had every right to be close to her.My jaw clenched.My eyes stayed locked on the photo, taking in every detail I shouldn’t care about — the way Fallon leaned into him, the soft flush in her cheeks, the familiarity in their body language.I hated him instantly.But more than tha
~Fallon~I should have closed the door.I should have stepped back, said goodnight, and kept the distance we were both so good at pretending we wanted.But then he said it.“I care because the thought of anyone else getting that smile makes me want to break something.”And just like that — the ground shifted.My breath caught, my fingers tightening on the edge of the door. He stood there in the dim light of the hallway — all sharp lines and tension, his jaw tight and his eyes dark.He looked… wrecked.And the worst part? It was because of me.“I—” My voice cracked. I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself. “Reid…”But I didn’t know what to say.Because I didn’t know what this was.The line between performance and reality had been blurring for weeks — in every glance that lingered too long, every brush of skin that felt like more than it should. And now, with his words hanging between us, that line had completely disappeared.I should have closed the door.But I didn’t.He stepped for
~Fallon~By the time I came down for breakfast, Reid was already gone.Of course he was.I stared at the empty coffee pot like it had personally offended me, my fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. The kitchen was spotless — too perfect, too sterile — and the air still carried the faintest trace of his cologne.It was a reminder I hadn’t asked for.And I hated how much it made my chest ache.I shouldn’t have cared.I shouldn’t have still felt the ghost of his touch — the warmth of his hands sliding into my hair, the press of his body against mine, the way his lips had devoured me like he was starving.But my skin still tingled where his fingers had gripped my waist. My mouth still burned from the kiss we weren’t supposed to have.And the worst part?He’d been the one to pull away.He kissed me like he needed me — and then walked out like it hadn’t meant a damn thing.So why did it still feel like I was the one left wanting?~~~When I finally saw him again later that aft
~Reid~The kiss had been a mistake.At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.It didn’t matter that I could still taste her — that my hands still remembered the shape of her waist, the softness of her skin. It didn’t matter that every time I closed my eyes, I saw the way she’d looked at me — surprised, wanting, wrecked.None of it mattered because his wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.So I did what I always did when things got too complicated. I worked.The Prescott merger was close to finalizing, and there were still a dozen things to handle before the deal went through. Financial reports. Staffing plans. Restructuring.The kind of work that demanded my full attention.That’s what I told myself, anyway.But no matter how many hours I buried myself in meetings and spreadsheets, I couldn’t outrun the distraction that was Fallon.She was everywhere.Every time I passed her in the hallway, my pulse kicked up. Every time I heard her voice drifting through the house — soft, distant, just out
~Fallon~“I’m just saying, if my fake husband kissed me like that and then spent a week acting like I didn’t exist, I’d burn the whole house down.”I sighed, flopping back onto my bed as Mia’s voice crackled through the phone. “Helpful.”“I’m serious, Fallon!” she huffed. “You kissed. It happened. And now he’s just… what? Pretending it didn’t?”“Pretty much.”There was a long pause. Then—“I hate him.”Despite everything, I laughed. “You don’t even know him.”“I don’t need to know him. I know you. And I know when you’re pretending you’re okay when you’re very much not okay.”The words hit harder than I wanted them to, because she was right. I wasn’t okay. Not even close.I stared at the ceiling, the ache in my chest tightening. “I don’t know how to be okay when he won’t even look at me.”The silence on the other end of the line stretched, heavy and thoughtful. Then—“Fallon.” Mia’s voice softened. “What are you afraid of?”I swallowed hard. “That it didn’t mean anything to him.”And t
~Reid~I saw her.The second I looked up and found Fallon standing in the doorway, my heart slammed against my ribs so hard it hurt.She wasn’t doing anything. Just standing there, her hair falling in loose waves over one shoulder, watching me with this quiet, uncertain expression — like she was waiting.For me.And that was the problem.Because I didn’t trust myself when it came to her.The light from the kitchen cast long shadows behind her, and for a moment — one dangerous, fragile moment — I let myself look. Really look.At the softness in her face. The way her lips parted just slightly, like she was on the verge of saying something. The way she felt closer than she actually was, even with the stretch of the kitchen between us.My throat went dry.Because I knew — if I didn’t stop this, if I didn’t stop her — I was going to ruin everything.So I did what I always do.I shut down.I forced my expression into cool detachment, made my face a mask, and pretended it didn’t gut me when
~Fallon~The Prescott estate was already buzzing with activity by the time we arrived.Golden light spilled from the house, stretching long and soft across the lawn, where perfectly arranged seating areas had been set up beneath strings of twinkling lanterns. Waitstaff moved through the crowd with trays of champagne, their uniforms crisp and their smiles polite. Laughter rose from the garden, drifting through the warm evening air, blending with the quiet hum of conversation and the soft notes of a string quartet.It was perfect.Elegant. Polished. Exactly the kind of event my parents loved.It was also the last place I wanted to be.Not with Reid beside me. Not with the silence between us still feeling like a fresh wound.“Smile,” he murmured as we stepped onto the patio. His hand settled at the small of my back — light, steady, a perfect imitation of ease. “Wouldn’t want anyone thinking we’re anything less than perfect.”My teeth ached from the force of my grin. “You’re so good at th
~Fallon~I waited until after dinner.Mostly because I was trying to avoid another fight. And partly because I wanted him in a good mood — though I should’ve known better.Reid Callahan’s default setting was cool detachment, and tonight was no different.The house was quiet when I went looking for him. The kind of quiet that felt thick, like the silence between us had soaked into the walls, filling every corner with the weight of everything we weren’t saying.I found him in his study, as always. The soft glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows, and the faint sound of his pen scratching against paper filled the space. His sleeves were rolled up, his tie discarded, and he looked so effortlessly composed it made my teeth clench.It wasn’t fair — how calm he always seemed. How easy it was for him to slip into distance while I felt like I was coming apart at the seams.But I kept my voice light. Friendly.“Hey.”He glanced up, brow lifting. “Hey.”Just one word. Just one glance. But my pul
~Fallon~It was already midday. I should have never checked my phone after reading the article that morning.That was my first mistake.The second was thinking I could control this.The screen glowed too bright in the darkness of my room, the notifications coming in so fast they blurred together—messages, alerts, missed calls, emails.My name was everywhere.I felt it before I saw it. That sinking, stomach-dropping sensation of something horribly wrong.I took a breath, steadied my hands, and started scrolling.News articles. Blog posts. Speculation threads.All dissecting my marriage.All questioning if Reid and I were real.At first, it was vague—whispers, theories. A few anonymous sources claiming something was off.But then I saw it.The leak.A direct quote from someone claiming to know the truth.“It’s a contract marriage. A business move. It was never about love.”My stomach flipped.My ears rang.I scrolled faster, my vision blurring as the internet did what it did best—picked
ReidI knew something was wrong the second my phone started vibrating at five in the morning.No one called me this early unless it was an emergency.I grabbed it off the nightstand, still half-asleep, and saw Carter’s name flashing across the screen.Not a good sign.“Yeah?” My voice was rough, low with exhaustion.Carter didn’t waste time. “We have a problem.”That woke me up.I sat up, rubbing a hand over my face. “What kind of problem?”“The kind that’s already trending.”A sharp chill ran through me. I swung my legs over the bed, already bracing myself for whatever was coming.“Check your email,” Carter said. “I forwarded the article.”I was already moving, grabbing my laptop and pulling it open. The moment my inbox loaded, my stomach dropped.EXCLUSIVE: INSIDE THE CALLAHANS’ MARRIAGE—THE CONTRACT THAT CHANGES EVERYTHINGI clicked it open, scanning fast.And that’s when the ground tilted beneath me.They knew.Not everything—but enough.The article was a full exposé, claiming Fal
~Reid~I kissed her.And now, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.The warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips.The way she had melted into me, just for a second, before pulling away.The soft hitch in her breath, the lingering taste of her on my lips.I should have let it go.I should have walked away, filed it under mistakes I won’t make again, and kept my distance.But I couldn’t.Because it didn’t feel like a mistake.It felt inevitable.And that—that was the part that terrified me the most.This was the problem with pretending. I wasn’t supposed to want her.This arrangement had been clean, structured—an unshakable foundation built on logic and necessity.We were business partners wrapped in a pretty package of public appearances and carefully curated affection.And I’d been fine with that.Until I wasn’t.Because somewhere between the forced smiles and the staged moments, the lines blurred.Somewhere between fighting her and defending her, between resenting her and needing her—I
~Fallon~It was just a kiss.Nothing more.Nothing less.I repeated the words in my head as I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling like it held the answers to my rapidly spiraling thoughts.A kiss meant nothing.Not when it was part of a bet.Not when it was Reid Callahan.And yet my pulse still skipped when I thought about it. He was messing with my head.The way he’d looked at me—sharp, heated, entirely too confident. The slow, deliberate way he’d closed the space between us, like he’d been waiting for an excuse. The brush of his lips—firm, steady, undeniable.It had been a game.So why the hell was I still thinking about it?I groaned, throwing an arm over my face.This was ridiculous. It was embarrassing too.I needed a distraction.Anything to pull me out of my own head before I did something stupid—like replay the moment in my mind for the hundredth time and analyze every single second.I rolled over, grabbing my phone from the nightstand.Bad idea.Because the first thing th
~Fallon~ The moment I lost, I knew I was in trouble. Reid didn’t gloat. He didn’t smirk, or throw out some arrogant remark. No. That would’ve been too easy. Instead, he just looked at me—calm, unreadable, with the kind of patience that sent my pulse into a full sprint. And then, in that low, even voice that always got under my skin, he said, “I believe I won.” I swallowed. “So it seems.” The air between us thickened. He leaned back against the couch, fingers tapping idly against the armrest like he had all the time in the world. “You remember what’s at stake?” Like I could forget. A kiss. Not just any kiss. A Reid Callahan kiss. And if the almost kiss from the other night was anything to go by, this was about to be a problem. For me. Because despite every warning, every reason I had to not feel things, my body had other ideas when it came to him. And now? Now, I had to face the consequences. I lifted my chin. “Fine.” Reid’s brows lifted slightl
~Fallon~It started as a joke.Well, technically, it started because I caught Reid answering emails again during breakfast, despite claiming he was taking the day off. And since I was no better—scrolling through my social media feed while pretending to sip my coffee—it spiraled into a full-blown challenge.“No work emails,” I declared, setting my phone down with a dramatic flourish. “And no social media.”Reid arched a brow, clearly unimpressed. “You do realize your entire career is built on social media, right?”“And your entire life is built on work,” I shot back. “Which is exactly why we need this. A full day of unplugging. No distractions, no notifications, no meetings. Just… existing like normal people.”He huffed, setting his coffee down. “And what’s in it for me?”I smirked. “If you win, you get to kiss me.”His expression didn’t change, but I felt the shift—the sharp attention in his gaze, the way his fingers drummed once against the table.“And if you win?” he asked, voice lo
~Fallon~I had no idea how I ended up here.Well, actually—I did.Reid had come home earlier than expected, looking ridiculously put-together despite what I knew had to be a brutal day at work. Meanwhile, I’d been lounging on the couch, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and no intention of doing anything productive when he casually dropped a question that sent my entire evening spiraling into enemy territory.“Do you play chess?”I blinked up at him. “Are you being serious?”His lips twitched. “I don’t joke about strategy, Fallon.”Of course he didn’t. I could already picture it—Reid Callahan, eleven years old, probably reading The Art of War between school exams and power plays on the playground.But I wasn’t about to let him think he had the upper hand.“Fine,” I said, stretching lazily before standing up. “But if we’re playing something, we’re making it interesting.”That’s how chess turned into a full-blown game night.And now here we were—an hour and three games deep, sitting cross
FallonIf the press wanted a spectacle, I’d give them one.Because I wasn’t about to let some random nobody run my name through the mud and get away with it.My phone buzzed again, the screen flashing with a name I’d been ignoring for the past half hour.Mom.I exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of my nose before finally giving in and answering.“Fallon,” she said the second the call connected. “I assume you’ve seen the headlines.”“No, Mom. I just woke up and thought the entire internet was blowing up for fun.”She sighed, the exasperation practically vibrating through the phone. “I told you this would happen. People will always look for cracks in a marriage like yours. The only way to win is to ignore it.”I rolled my eyes. “That’s not winning. That’s surrendering.”“It’s strategic,” she corrected. “If you don’t acknowledge it, the story dies faster. Engaging gives it power.”I paced the room, jaw tightening. This was so like her. The constant need to present the perfect image, to
~Fallon~ I woke up to war. My phone was vibrating off the nightstand, the screen lighting up with notifications so fast I could barely process them. I grabbed it, groggy, scrolling through an endless flood of texts, missed calls, and push alerts. And then I saw it. “Billionaire Reid Callahan Spotted on an Intimate Dinner Date—Where Was His Wife?” My stomach dropped. The article was everywhere. Attached were pictures—Reid at a sleek, exclusive restaurant, seated across from a woman I didn’t recognize. She was gorgeous. Brunette, sophisticated, leaning in just close enough to make the photos look damning. The kind of woman the press would love to call his real match. I scrolled faster, my pulse hammering. “Reid Callahan and mystery woman share a private dinner—sources say Fallon Callahan was nowhere in sight!” “Trouble in paradise? Callahan marriage not as picture-perfect as they want you to believe.” “Who is the woman seen dining with L.A.’s most powerful billionaire?” Th