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By the second year of my marriage to Quentin Lambert, we had a son. Fast forward five years, and I was basically a human cookbook, agonizing over every pinch of salt like it was rocket science. One night, Quentin tossed out, "Too much salt." And our son? He didn't even blink—he dumped the whole pot down the drain right in front of me. That's when it hit me—pure exhaustion, like a tidal wave. I told Quentin I wanted a divorce. He didn't even bother looking up. "Is that really necessary?" I nodded, my voice flat. "It is."

I flinched as his breath fanned my face, my body trembled in his arms. This was the chance, but was I scared? His eyes affected me in so many ways, as they held grief, pain and regret. Our stare was our way of communicating. It was intended, emotional and agonizing. I was hiding the knife behind me, picturing the perfect place to stab him. His searing heat sent a gush of lust inside me. I shouldn't fall for that. This was a revenge plan, not a romantic show-off. "I'm engaged, and I have a child with him" I remembered, barely recognizing my cold voice which had become soft and weak. He let out a dirty smirk, lowering his eyes to my lips as we exchanged breath. "I know, but I can't stop myself from falling" he whispered, and before I could blink an eye, he captured my lips, twirling them to his taste. It was a long liquid kiss that made me wet so that I couldn't fight back. The knife slipped off my hand as my body yanked on his. We both dried up where we stood when her voice resounded in our ears. "Mom?"

The night before her wedding, she had a fling with a strange man; on her wedding day, he appeared as her groom's brother. ** “Last night, we had a fling, and today you're married to my brother?!” He scowled, spewing out hot breath on her face. She stuttered, “I..I'm..I'm..” “No!! You can't be married to Ryker! You can't be my brother's wife!” He raged, looking aggrieved as he pulled away from her. Ryker's dominant voice was immediately heard from the stairs, “What's going on here?” Her feet grew cold, and realizing he must have heard their conversation, she grabbed hold of her wedding dress and took to her heels. “Wait!” His commanding voice made her halt in the middle of the passageway. She stood stiff as she heard the sound of his shoes kissing the ground stylishly. His presence behind her made her turn pale in the blink of an eye. Caressing her left shoulder, he whispered sinisterly into her ears “Wifey, what did you do on the night before our wedding?”.

“I can’t believe you just said that!” I burst out, staring at Ethan like he’d sprouted twenty extra heads. “You want me to... to pretend to be your girlfriend? What, like, fake holding hands? Fake kissing? Fake everything?” He didn’t blink as his nonchalant gaze met mine, a hint of a smirk playing on those lips. “Yes, Riley. That’s usually how fake dating works.” All Harper Adams wanted was to get through one evening pretending to be her best friend on a blind date. But when her date turned out to be Ethan Reynolds—her infuriatingly handsome CEO—things quickly spiraled out of control. Now, she’s caught in a whirlwind of fake romance to help him dodge his family’s relentless matchmaking schemes. Between awkward office run-ins and public displays of “affection” at high-society galas, Harper is discovering that fake dating might be a lot harder than she thought—especially when her feelings for Ethan start to feel all too real. With secrets piling up and hilariously disastrous moments at every turn, Harper’s left wondering: can she survive this charade, or will her fake love life blow up in her face?

“Are you trying to punish me? I…I don't know how many times I can apologize even if it wasn't my fault that I almost—” “I never asked you to. You do whatever you want, Niya, and I really don't care. Neither should you bother with what I do.” “You're hurt. You're hurt, Alex, and you're acting out. Don't worry we could talk this through. This isn't you.” I try to reach him again but he shoots me a deadly glare that pierces through my skin like a dagger. “Sure it is. You've just never seen me like this. You don't know what I look like when I'm not in love with you,” his brows grow together. “Now we’ve had enough of your drama. You'll find the papers and enjoy the party or use the fucking door.” He pulls away and my eyes cloud again. My ears and heart find it hard to process what is actually going on. The looks on their faces tell me it is awfully too late—I have already lost everything. “Niya, careful now,” my grandmother slowly tugs at my arm as if that will somehow make everything better. “We have guests. Don’t cause a scene.” A scene? I have literally just seen a whole movie, ma. ************* My name is Niya Kendrick. I’m 25, an author who once believed she had the perfect life. But how quickly can everything I love be stripped away in the blink of an eye? Or worse, what if the life, the family I’ve cherished has always been a blatant lie, a mere fragment of the truth? Now, I’m awake, and reality is far harsher than any dream.