8

The woman finally stepped fully into the room, her black heels echoing softly on the hardwood floor. She clasped her hands in front of her and gave a polite, professional smile.

“I apologize for the delay in welcoming you, Mrs. Blake. I was finishing up something downstairs. I'm Teresa, the housekeeper.” She dipped her head slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I blinked, my heart still trying to remember how to beat like a normal person. “You scared me half to death.”

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. “Apologies for that too. I tend to move quietly.”

I raised an eyebrow, still eyeing her from head to toe. She looked like the kind of woman who knew everything that happened in this house. Maybe everything that happened in Nathan's life.

“So…” I turned toward the bed again. “This is my room?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied smoothly. “That was Mr. Blake’s order. You’ll find everything prepared for your stay. And if you’d like, I can give you a full tour of the penthouse once you’re settled.”

I crossed my arms, taking a slow look around the space again. “Are you sure this is my room?”

Her eyes flicked toward me, unreadable, then back to the photos on the shelf.

“Yes. Mr. Blake was very clear about the arrangement. This is the master suite, and it is yours.” She motioned toward the massive mirrored wardrobe. “Your personal closet is to the left,second only to the main section where he keeps his formal wear and suits.”

I gave a low whistle. “So… this is really happening.”

Teresa nodded with a smile. “If there’s anything you need, anything at all, don’t hesitate to tell me. I’ll make sure it’s arranged.”

I stepped further into the room, brushing my fingers along the edge of the sleek vanity. Everything about this space whispered money, power, control.

And now… me.

“Well,” I muttered under my breath, “might as well get used to being the fake Mrs. Blake in style.”

Teresa, thankfully, didn’t comment.

But I noticed her pause,just slightly,at the word fake.

She knew.

She probably knew everything.

Still, she only said, “Would you like the tour now or after you’ve changed out of your wedding dress?”

I turned to her, lips twitching.

“Let’s start now. I want to know every corner of the palace I’ve just been sold into.”

She smiled politely and gestured toward the hallway.

And with that, I followed her out… ready or not.

After the house tour,marble staircases, a kitchen big enough to host a royal banquet, two lounges, a private library, and a walk-in wine cellar,I finally made it back to my room.

Or should I say... the room Nathan said was mine.

I kicked off my heels, let my dress fall in a heap, and collapsed onto the ridiculously soft bed, arms stretched out like I had just survived a war.

“Who lives like this?” I mumbled to myself, sinking deeper into the mattress that probably cost more than my college tuition.

Then ping—my phone lit up beside me.

A notification from I*******m.

I rolled over and picked it up, expecting another emotionless instruction from Mr. CEO Husband.

But no.

It was Brian’s page.

Brian.

The celebrity I had been crushing on since… forever. The man whose posters still lived in my childhood bedroom. The same Brian I had gone to see at the hotel that fateful day before my entire life turned upside down.

He had just posted.

I tapped the notification so fast I nearly broke my nail.

@Brian_Official just posted 3 new photos

And sweet mercy—he looked divine.

In the first one, he was sitting on the hood of a vintage car, rings glinting, jawline sharper than my mood swings.

The second? A candid shot of him laughing, head tossed back like the sun itself was flirting with him.

The third… whew. Just shirtless enough to send a girl spiraling.

I stared at the screen, my chin propped in my palm, kicking my feet like a teenager again.

And then, as if my heart wasn’t already weak—

NEW POST: 3 days till the concert! Who’s ready? 🎤💥🔥

I gasped out loud. “Three days?!”

I clutched the phone to my chest, eyes wide with hope and unfiltered delusion.

“I have to go.”

Married? To Nathan? Yes.

Living in a billionaire’s penthouse? Also yes.

But Brian?

Brian was still the man of my dreams.

And in my delulu heart?

I was his future wife.

“I just need to figure out how to sneak out of here without running into Amy or Nathan,” I whispered to myself.

Then I pulled my pillow close and sighed.

“I can still make this love story happen.” I said releasing a smile that hasn't been on my face for two days.

THE NEXT DAY

I yawned and stretched like a spoiled cat. Neez would’ve been proud. My furball back at Mum and Dad’s probably had no clue I was now waking up in a penthouse instead of my shoebox bedroom with creaky walls and no Wi-Fi.

The sheets were so soft they might as well have been spun from clouds, and the bed? Massive. Probably bigger than my whole childhood room.

For the first time in forever, I actually slept like a baby.

No nightmares. No reporters breathing down my neck. No Nathan giving me that ice-prince silence treatment.

Just golden sunlight dripping through the floor-length curtains and the distant hum of the city that didn’t know me… or care.

I blinked at the crystal chandelier above me, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and whispered to myself, “Well damn. I married rich.”

The rest of the day blurred into endless scrolling.

I wasn't used to sitting around in luxury, with no dishes to wash, no shifts to catch, no “Ma’am, table seven is waiting” to deal with.

So, I did what any emotionally fried, newly married girl would do in a billionaire's penthouse with nothing else to do,I scrolled through my phone.

I*******m. TikTok. P*******t boards I’d long abandoned. A few selfies in the mirror, because hello, the lighting was perfect.

I even Facetime Mum at one point, pretending like everything was fine. She didn’t ask too many questions. Maybe she was still adjusting to this whirlwind just like I was.

By evening, the walls felt like they were closing in. I needed out. I needed noise, people, music. A reminder that I still existed outside of Nathan Blake’s cold orbit.

So I texted the one person who could save me from my overthinking spiral.

Ivy:

> Tinaaaa 🐍✨ Tell me you’re still up for tonight.

She responded in 0.2 seconds.

Tina💅🏽👑:

> Girl. Been waiting for you to say that. I’ve got the Uber. Put on something dangerous. We’re going out OUT 🔥

I grinned. My first real smile of the day.

Time to dress the part.

I stood in front of the open closet Nathan’s housekeeper had shown me,rows and rows of designer everything. But no… not tonight.

Tonight, I reached for the red dress I brought myself. The one I saved for a “just in case I need to slay” moment.

Thin straps, low back, a thigh-high slit that didn’t ask for permission.

I curled my hair, threw on some gold hoops, and painted my lips red.

By the time I stepped in front of the mirror, I barely recognized myself.

Mrs. Blake? Nah. Tonight, I’m just Ivy.