Chapter Two

David didn’t stay long at the dining table. I wasn’t expecting him to. Everyone knew David Smith was a busy man.

The moment his plate was empty, he stood up, brushing his hand against his perfectly pressed slacks as if he were wiping away any remaining crumbs of obligation toward me. “If you need to go out, the drivers are available. Just let them know,” he said, his voice carrying that same indifferent tone from earlier, as though I was just another business deal that needed occasional check-ins.

I didn’t respond. Not because I didn’t have words, but because there was no point. What would I say? Thank you for your generosity, dear husband, for allowing me, your not-wife, to use your many cars?

I focused on the pancakes still on my plate as he walked out, his expensive leather shoes making no sound against the polished floors.

The moment the door clicked shut behind him, I exhaled, a slow, steady breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding.

The house was silent again, swallowing me whole.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

Even if the whole city now recognized me as Mrs. David Smith, the world outside still loathes me.

The whispers hadn’t stopped. The scandal hadn’t been forgotten. My name had been dragged through the dirt and continues to, even though I think David had been trying to cover it up since he married me earlier today, but I’m still not ready to step outside and meet their eyes.

Not yet.

So instead, I wandered through the mansion, my fingers skimming over the cold marble surfaces, the gold accents, and the unnecessary luxury. A house meant for royalty, yet it felt like a cage made of glass.

I was supposed to call Ella, but lately, even that felt like a risk. Her parents had warned her to stay away from me. My own parents had done more than that—they had erased me. As if I had never been their daughter. As if I had died the moment my shame became public.

The thought stung like an old wound ripped open again.

“She’ll probably call me soon,” I muttered to myself, forcing the thought away. Ella would call. She always did.

And as if the universe had been listening, my phone buzzed.

I pulled it from my pocket, and there it was—her name flashing on the screen. Ella.

I didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Finally!” Ella’s voice burst through the line before I could even say hello. “I was starting to think you’d abandoned me.”

A small smile tugged at my lips, something warm settling in my chest. “You literally called me first.”

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t waiting forever,” she huffed. “Anyway, Mrs. Smith, how’s the honeymoon? Is the billionaire good in bed? Or are you two sleeping in separate rooms, and you’re secretly dying inside?”

I groaned, flopping onto the nearest couch. “Please. You of all people know there’s no honeymoon.”

Ella snorted. “I know, I know. But they don’t.” Her voice dropped into a teasing whisper. “Seattle is eating this up, you know. Everyone wants to be you.”

I laughed. Actually laughed. “Oh, really? Everyone wants to be trapped in a fake marriage with a man who barely looks at them?”

“Correction,” she interjected. “Everyone wants to be married to David Smith. You? Not so much.”

I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn’t see me. “Exactly.”

Silence stretched between us for a beat, and then Ella sighed. “I snuck into your wedding, you know.”

My breath caught. “Ella…”

“I had to. You really thought I’d let you go through that alone?”

My throat tightened. “Our parents—”

“They can go to hell,” she snapped. “You’re still my best friend, Sam. That hasn’t changed.”

My fingers gripped the hem of my shirt, my knuckles turning white. “They hate me, Ella. Your parents. My parents. The whole damn world.”

“They don’t know shit,” she spat. “They think they do, but they only know the headlines. They only believe what they want to believe. She replied, which made both of us go silent.

Then, softer, Ella asked, “Do you regret it?”

I hesitated, staring up at the chandelier hanging above me. It looked beautiful from a distance, but up close, you could see the dust settling in the tiny crevices, the imperfections.

Just like this life.

“It’s not like I had a choice,” I whispered.

Ella didn’t say anything, letting me continue.

“He saw me, Ella. The night I almost got raped again, after that stupid scandal that Vincent set up for me.” My voice was barely loud now. “He saw me, almost lifeless on the road and offered me a deal.”

"True, that stupid Vincent. Every time I think of him, I can’t help but curse him. He was supposed to be your fiancé—ugh, you know what? Forget that useless man. At least David saved you and made you his wife," Ella muttered

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see. “To pretend to be his wife. To help him clean up his image, fix the womanizing scandal that was destroying his company.”

“And in return?”

“In return…” I swallowed hard. “I got safety. A roof over my head. A name that no one would dare touch.”

Ella exhaled sharply. “I know right, Sam.” if only I knew what Vincent was planning that night, I wouldn’t have let you go visit him” Her voice cracked as if she was crying over there.

“Hey, I’m fine. thank God you didn’t even go with me then, you know you were suggesting it that day, Vincent might have ruined your life, too.”

“He dares not, but you know what, let's really stop talking about Vincent for real. My parents almost caught me when I came to your wedding.”

I blinked. “Wait—what?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said casually.” I mean, they didn’t eventually catch on, But if they did, they’d probably ship me off to another country.”

Despite everything, I smiled. “Reckless as always.”

“And proud of it.”

Silence fell between us again, but this time, it was comfortable. Familiar. Like the quiet that only exists between people who have known each other forever.

Then Ella spoke, voice soft. “Do you trust him?”

I bit my lip. “I don’t think trust is part of the contract.”

“Then what is?”

I sighed. “Time.”

Ella hummed. “So, what happens when time runs out?”

My heart clenched. “I don’t know.”

And that was the truth. I had signed my name on the dotted line and agreed to be Mrs. Smith for however long he deemed necessary. But when it ended, when my time was up—where would I go? What would I have left?

Nothing.

Again.

I closed my eyes, pushing the thoughts away. “Enough about me. How’s—” I was about to ask Ella when I couldn’t hear anything again.

“Hello? Hello?” I repeated, but there was no response.

Then it hit me—Ella had dropped the call.

Her parents must have sensed she was talking to me.

I kept the phone back on the couch I was sitting on when I saw the front door open, David striding in with two of his men.

“You’re back, that was really fast,” I said standing up from the couch I was sitting on, surprised that he was already back.

But by the time I was done with what I was saying, David had already left the living room, leaving me there once again talking to myself.

“But I’m trying to be the good wife, or am I not trying enough?” I thought as tears streamed down my face.