Se connecterThe word stayed between them.“Stay.”Ammie didn’t move immediately. Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of her bag as she tried to understand what that one word meant now. Not before. Not during the contract. But now.Adrian didn’t rush her. He just stood there, watching, waiting—something he rarely did.“…In your room?” she finally asked, her voice low.He nodded once. “Yes.”Silence followed.Not uncomfortable.Just… careful.Ammie looked at him for a long second, searching his face for something—control, pride, indifference. But what she saw instead only confused her more.Calm.Maybe even… sincerity.She exhaled softly.“…Okay.”Not fully certain.But not resisting either.---The room felt different the moment she stepped in.Not because it had changed—But because she had.Ammie walked in slowly, her eyes taking in the space like it was new. She had been here before, but never like this. Never with the understanding that she wasn’t just passing through.Adrian closed
Adrian didn’t slow down.Not even for a second.The drive to Bianca’s house was fast, reckless, filled with everything he hadn’t said earlier. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched, his mind replaying everything his PA had said.She planned it.She expected it.By the time he got there, he didn’t bother knocking properly. The door wasn’t even fully closed.He pushed it open.And froze.---Bianca wasn’t alone.She was in the living room.Laughing.Close—too close—with a man.Their lips locked like nothing else mattered.---For a second—Adrian just stood there.Watching.Not shocked.Not heartbroken.Just… disappointed.---The sound of the door made them pull apart quickly.Bianca turned.And her expression changed instantly.“Adrian—”---“What the hell is this?” he cut in, his voice sharp.---The man beside her stepped back awkwardly.Bianca straightened, trying to regain control.“It’s not what it looks like—”---Adrian laughed.A short, dry laugh.“Don’t i
The tension in the house didn’t fade.It only changed shape.Adrian stood in the living room, phone still in his hand, his mind running faster than he could control. Anger, confusion, frustration—they all sat heavily on his chest at the same time, making it hard to think clearly.This wasn’t just about the headlines anymore.This wasn’t just about Ammie.This was bigger.Messier.And somehow—personal.He exhaled sharply and dialed a number.“Sir,” his PA answered almost immediately.“I want to know who started this,” Adrian said, his voice low but firm. “Every post, every source, every connection. I don’t care how long it takes.”“Understood, sir.”“And make it fast.”The call ended.Adrian dropped the phone onto the table, running his hand through his hair. For a moment, he just stood there, staring into space, trying to piece everything together.---Upstairs, Ammie stood in front of the mirror, getting ready for work.Her movements were slower than usual.Not because she was tired—
The silence in the house didn’t last long.It couldn’t.Because outside—Everything was already out of control.---Ammie sat up slowly on her bed, her phone still in her hand. Her eyes scanned the screen again, hoping—maybe—that she misunderstood something.But she didn’t.The pictures were clear.Her.Drake.Walking too close.Looking too comfortable.---Her chest tightened.“…No.”She scrolled.More posts.More comments.More opinions from people who didn’t know anything.---> “So the CEO’s wife is cheating?”“I knew that marriage was fake.”“She doesn’t even look like she belongs with him.”---That one—Stayed longer than the rest.---Ammie dropped the phone beside her.Her breathing uneven now.“This can’t be happening…”---🚪 Downstairs — Same MorningAdrian stood in the living room, already dressed.But not moving.His phone was in his hand.The screen still lit.Same images.Same headlines.---His jaw tightened slightly.Not because of the public.Not even because of the
The evening air felt lighter than the house.Ammie didn’t realize how much she needed that until she stepped outside with Drake beside her. The tension she had been carrying all day slowly eased with each step they took.Drake glanced at her. “You’re finally breathing again.”Ammie let out a small smile. “Don’t get used to it.”“I plan to,” he replied calmly.She shook her head slightly, but this time, she didn’t pull away from the moment. She needed this—something that didn’t feel controlled, something that didn’t feel like a contract.As they walked past a small group of people, one of them paused.A phone lifted slightly.A quiet snap.Neither Ammie nor Drake noticed.But the moment was captured.Clear.Close.Suggestive.---By the time they reached the roadside, the post was already up.> “Isn’t this Mrs. Knight? CEO Adrian Knight’s ‘wife’? 👀”“Or is the contract marriage finally showing its true color?”Within minutes, it began to spread.---Across the street, Adrian saw them.
The day didn’t feel normal, even though everything looked exactly the same.Ammie sat at her desk, her fingers moving across the keyboard with quiet precision. Her posture was straight, her expression calm, her focus seemingly unshaken. To anyone watching, she looked perfectly fine—professional, composed, untouched.But inside, it wasn’t that simple.Her mind kept drifting back to the morning. To the kitchen. To the way Adrian had looked at her like he was trying to remember something she was desperately trying to forget. The tension between them hadn’t disappeared—it had only changed shape. It was quieter now, but heavier.Across the office, Adrian stood by the glass wall of his office, his hands resting in his pockets as he looked out over the city. But he wasn’t seeing any of it. His thoughts were elsewhere.On her.On the gaps in his memory.On the way she avoided his eyes.Something had happened. He knew it. Not fully, not clearly—but enough to feel it.And the fact that Ammie re







