~Fallon~If I was going to be dragged on this sudden trip, I was going to make damn sure I looked good doing it.Better than good. Unforgettable.So I packed accordingly.Every outfit was meticulously chosen. Every accessory, every pair of heels, every carefully coordinated look—flawless. No one was going to doubt for a second that I belonged at Reid Callahan’s side.He wanted me to play the part? Fine. I’d play it better than he ever expected.And I wasn’t stopping with just myself.Reid Callahan was not walking into that resort in some boring, last-minute suit. No way.If we were making an appearance together, we were going to match.⸻By the time Reid finally emerged from his office, suitcase in hand, I was ready.I gave him one look—from the effortlessly expensive sweater and tailored pants to the watch that probably cost more than some people’s houses—and crossed my arms.“What?” he asked, arching a brow.I gestured toward the suitcase. “Let me see what you packed.”His eyes narr
~Fallon~The hotel was breathtaking.Glittering chandeliers. Marble floors that gleamed under the golden lights. Staff that moved with the kind of quiet efficiency that screamed money.Everything about it was ridiculous.And yet, none of it was what had my stomach in knots.It was the suite.The single suite.The moment the elevator doors opened to the top floor, I knew. Before the concierge even unlocked the double doors, before I stepped inside to see the massive one-bedroom layout, I knew.And I should’ve said something.But Reid was already inside, already draping his suit jacket over a chair, already loosening his tie like this was just another hotel stay.Like we hadn’t spent the past week avoiding each other. Like we hadn’t built a solid wall of tension so thick I could barely breathe around it.And now, we were expected to sleep under the same roof.Again.I stood frozen at the entrance, my overnight bag still clutched in my hand, staring at the very singular, very large bed t
~Fallon~I woke up to the sound of water running.For a second, I forgot where I was. The sheets were softer, the air cooler, the bed way too spacious—until I turned and saw Reid’s side still perfectly made.Right. The hotel. The shared suite.I sighed, stretching beneath the covers before rolling over and grabbing my phone. The time read 7:23 AM, and I briefly debated pulling the blankets over my head and pretending the morning didn’t exist.But then the bathroom door opened, and Reid stepped out.Dripping wet.Towel slung low on his hips.Completely, unfairly, ridiculously Reid.My brain short-circuited.“You’re awake,” he noted, rubbing another towel through his damp hair, seemingly unaware—or worse, unaffected—by my obvious staring.I blinked, then cleared my throat. “Unfortunately.”He smirked. “That explains the grumpy expression.”I sat up, dragging a hand through my own mess of curls. “It’s called having personality. Not all of us wake up with the emotional range of a robot.”
~Fallon~“You’re giving me your black card?”I blinked at Reid as he slid the sleek, matte-black credit card across the breakfast table like it was nothing more than a business memo.“I have meetings all day,” he said, barely looking up from his phone. “Go wild.”I picked up the card between my fingers, studying it like it might bite me. It was heavier than any of my other cards—an unsubtle reminder that this particular piece of plastic had no spending limit. The kind of power that made people reckless.“You do realize what you just said to me, right?” I asked, arching a brow.Reid finally lifted his gaze, his sharp blue eyes flicking to mine. “You’re my wife, Fallon. It’d be weird if you didn’t spend my money.”I searched his face for any trace of sarcasm. There was none.“Hmm.” I twirled the card between my fingers, letting the weight of it sink in. “If you insist.”Reid just shook his head, standing with that effortless grace that irritated me to no end. He slid his suit jacket ove
~Reid~I should have been focused.I should have been thinking about the investors. The men in that ballroom who had the power to shift billions with a single conversation. About strategy, image, control.But the second Fallon stepped out of the bedroom, every rational thought left my head.And for the first time in a long time, I forgot how to breathe.The dress was red.Not just any red—dangerous red. The kind that warned you something lethal was coming and dared you to get closer anyway.And God help me, I wanted to.The silk clung to her in all the right places, draping over her curves like it had been tailored by the devil himself. The slit ran obscenely high, revealing just enough of her leg to be sinful. And the neckline?Designed for destruction.Her hair was swept to one side, leaving the long, delicate line of her neck on display. The diamonds at her ears glittered, but nothing—not the jewelry, not the dress, not even the city lights behind her—shone quite like her.And then
~Reid~The gala’s atmosphere was a carefully orchestrated dream: the lights dimmed to a sultry glow, the soft murmur of elegant conversations mixing with the gentle strains of a live band. I had spent the last few minutes in the reception area, scanning the room with the practiced detachment of a man who rarely lets anything get past him. Fallon had gone to the bathroom and I was waiting for her. Then I saw her—Fallon, gliding through the crowd like she owned the floor. Her gown shimmered in deep red, and every step she took seemed to echo a silent challenge. My breath caught, and for a moment I wondered if I should have just remained distant, safe behind spreadsheets and board meetings. But tonight, the night was already too charged to be ignored.I found my way toward the dance floor. When she finally spotted me, our eyes locked. The silent invitation was there—an unspoken plea for connection that neither of us had dared to name in recent days.I stepped forward. “May I have this d
~Fallon~The morning light spilled softly through the windows as I woke to a rare, unforced smile. Today wasn’t about boardrooms, legal documents, or endless family obligations—it was just about us. Reid had insisted that we take a day to ourselves before heading back home, and though I’d fought it at first, a small spark of anticipation had slowly crept in.I got ready with a care that felt almost like celebration. My outfit was fun—a breezy, floral dress paired with ankle boots, a playful contrast to the usual sleek glamour. As I glanced in the mirror, I couldn’t help but feel that today, I might just let down some of the walls that had kept me at a distance.I found Reid waiting in the foyer, not in his typical business attire, but in a smart, casual ensemble: dark jeans, a soft sweater, and that same confident, unreadable expression he wore so well. When our eyes met, there was a brief moment—an unspoken acknowledgment of all the days spent apart—that made my heart flutter unexpec
~Reid~The jet touched down smoothly on the private runway, but the tightness in my chest didn’t ease.Los Angeles. Home. Familiar ground.I should’ve felt like I was back in control.Instead, I was stuck replaying every moment Fallon had thrown me off balance over the last few days.And there were a lot of them.The way she inspected my suitcase like she had every right to dictate what I wore.The way she looked at me in the candlelight at that ridiculous dinner, like she was daring me to lose my composure.The way she melted against me on that dance floor, fitting against me like she belonged there.And then, yesterday.That perfect, infuriating, reckless day together.Laughing on the beach. Challenging me over who could make the better cocktail. Stealing my sunglasses and running away like we were something real.The sound of her laugh—light, unrestrained—still echoed in my head, cutting through the quiet hum of the cabin.I dragged a hand through my hair as the jet rolled to a sto
~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