CHAPTER TWO

 Pearl's POV

 This man had fucking lost his mind!

 His bedroom door was at the end of the east hallway. I didn't knock. I probably should have knocked. The rule was very clear about knocking — it was literally Rule One — but I had read Rule One and it had made me angry, so knocking felt like agreeing with it.

 I pushed the door open and walked in. Dominic Ashford was sitting up in bed with a book open in his lap. He wasn't wearing a shirt. He grabbed the blanket immediately and pulled it up to cover his chest, which told me I had caught him off guard, which was honestly the best thing that had happened to me since yesterday. But I swear I saw his well-sculptured chest. Dammit. But that wasn't why I was here. 

 I walked straight to the bed and dropped the booklet on it. It landed with a flat, deliberate slap between us.

 "What the hell are these rules?" I said.

 He looked at the booklet, then at me and then his jaw tightened. "Did you just realise," he said, very slowly, "that you have already broken two of them by walking in here like this?"

 "And which ones are those?" I put my left hand on my hip.

 "Rule One." He sat up straighter, the blanket pooling at his waist. Even covering himself up he looked insufferably composed. "No entering my room without knocking and waiting for a response. And Rule Four, you do not speak to me unless I speak to you first or we are in a public setting." 

 He said it like he had memorized them. Which he probably had, because this man had clearly sat down and written a seven page document about how another human being was allowed to exist in his house.

 I could tell he was burning with anger but I know one thing for sure that he can never cancel our contract or send me out, at least for now. I don't know why he still went ahead to get married after knowing the bride was switched but I know the fact that he has a reason and he's desperate. He had confirmed it in his words yesterday and my parent had also said he was desperate. 

 "And you expect me to just sit there and be quiet?" My hands went up. "I can talk. I have a mouth. Why should you always be the one speaking first?"

 "Because I am the..."

 "And Rule Two." I snatched the booklet back up and opened it. "I cannot go out without your permission. So I'm just supposed to stay in that room all day like a plant?"

 "There is a..."

 "And Rule Five." I flipped to the page and stepped closer to the bed. He leaned back slightly, which I noted with great satisfaction. I put my right hand on the mattress for support and leaned in until we were at eye level. "You said I cannot look at you for more than five seconds." I said. "Five seconds." Then I stared directly into his eyes. "One."

 "What are you doing?!"

 "Two."

 "Stop!"

 "Three." His eyes were darker up close than they looked from a distance. I had not planned to notice that. "Four."

 "I am warning you..."

 "Five." I paused. "Six."

 "What the hell —"

 The door suddenly opened and we both turned at the same time. She walked in like she owned the floor she was standing on, which to be fair was probably accurate given how expensive her bag looked. Perfectly put together. The kind of beautiful that announced itself before she fully entered a room. She stopped for half a second when she saw us — me leaning over Dominic's bed, him with a blanket pulled to his waist and murder in his eyes — and then she stepped forward, pushed past me so smoothly it almost felt accidental, and pressed a kiss to Dominic's cheek.

 I straightened up. "Oh, my bad." She said, looked at me briefly. No apology in her voice whatsoever. "I didn't see you there."

 Oh, my God. Had to stop myself from poking out her eyes. 

 “It's fine.” I muttered with a smile.

 She had already turned back to Dominic. She sat down beside him on the bed and touched his arm like I was furniture.

 "Dom baby," she said, pouting a little. "I'm so sorry I missed the wedding. The earliest flight was this morning, I didn't even stop at home first, I just came straight here." She had an American accent. "How are you? How was everything?"

 “It's fine, Celeste. How was your trip?” Dominic replied, his expression unreadable. 

 "Long." She sighed. Then she glanced at me, the way you glance at something you're not sure belongs in the room. "Who is she? Your new personal assistant? Maid? Why is she in your bedroom?"

 Okay, I think I really need to poke out her eyes. Cos why the hell would she call me a maid?

 “No, she's my wife.” Dominic replied, flatly. Look at the person that wrote in rule 6 that we shouldn't show people that we aren't romantically together, making it obvious that we aren't in love. Not like I care, though.

 Celeste's face did something very quick and very controlled. If I had blinked I would have missed it. Then she turned back to me with a smile that had been arranged too carefully.

 "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry." She said it to Dominic. Not to me. She apologised to him for insulting me, which was its own kind of statement. "I didn't know. With how she was dressed, I just assumed —"

 "Dom baby." I said it sweetly, just the way she had said it. I watched her blink. "I'll be in my room. We can finish our conversation later." I said the last part to Dominic, not waiting for him to respond.

 I picked up the booklet from the bed, tucked it under my arm, and walked out.

 I pulled the door shut behind me. Then I stood in the hallway and took one long slow breath. From inside I could still hear their voices. Hers, mostly.

 I started walking back to my room. Fuck them.

 ******

 The press conference was held downtown, in one of those buildings that has a lobby so polished you can see your own reflection in the floor. By the time we arrived, there were already reporters gathered outside the entrance, held back by a line of security guards who were clearly earning their salary today.

 I had not been told about the press conference until this morning, when Mrs. Park had knocked on my door at ten o'clock after the alter with Dominic, with a garment bag and a small team of people behind her. She had informed me, pleasantly and without room for argument, that there would be an event this afternoon. The bag contained everything I needed to wear.

 I had opened it and had saw a gown. The gown was shiny, black, floor length, with a slit from my left thigh all the way down, and an off the shoulder neck. Whoever had picked it knows my style. Definitely not Dominic. 

 Mrs. Park's team had done my hair and makeup— loose waves falling over my shoulders, bold silver jewelry that I would have chosen myself, silver heels that were dangerously high and dangerously comfortable at the same time.

 Dominic stretched out his hand after he stepped out of the car, and I saw Celeste fuming behind him, obviously jealous and I let out a knowing smile

 I took it and stepped onto the pavement, and the noise from the reporters immediately doubled. Camera flashes went off in clusters. Security moved to hold back the crowd. Dominic kept his face neutral and his posture straight, the way I was already learning he held himself in public — like a man who had been photographed so many times that stillness had become his defense.

 I stood beside him and looked at the cameras looking at us. This was my first press conference, my first real appearance in public and I was gonna enjoy it.

 "Don't respond to any questions." Dominic said it quietly, his hand still holding mine. "I'll handle everything."

 "Of course." I nodded pleasantly.

 "I mean it, Pearl." That was the first time he called my name sweetly. Maybe the first time I'm hearing my name in his mouth. 

 "I heard you." He looked at me sideways. I looked straight ahead and smiled at a camera.

 "Mr. and Mrs. Ashford!" A reporter pushed forward against the security barrier, microphone extended. "Congratulations! Can you tell us how you —"

 "Inside." Dominic said simply. "All questions inside."

 We moved through the entrance and into the building. Inside, a room had been arranged specifically for this — rows of seats filled with journalists, photographers along the walls, a long table at the front with two microphones and two chairs. A podium with the Ashford company logo. A team of Dominic's people standing at the sides of the room.

 I noticed Celeste at the far end of the room, standing near the wall with her arms folded. She had come separately. She was watching me with an expression she had not bothered to arrange into anything polite.

 Dominic pulled the chair out for me first, which made several journalists reach for their cameras and I sat down with a smile. Then, he sat beside me and leaned slightly toward the microphone in front of him.

 “Good afternoon, everybody. Thanks for honouring the press conference. Today, my wife and I will be entertaining some questions, so go ahead." Dominic said, gesturing to the crowd.

 The room shifted. Pens went up, cameras turned. I felt Dominic's gaze move to me and I looked back at him and he did the smallest movement with his hand — barely anything, just a slight press of two fingers on the table — which I understood to mean please do not open your mouth.

 I nodded. Then I glanced at Celeste. She was watching us with her arms still folded, her jaw tight, her eyes moving between me and Dominic.

 I turned back to the front and slowly, casually, reached over and picked an invisible thread from Dominic's jacket. Like it was nothing. Like it was habit. Like we had been married long enough that straightening his clothes in public was just something I did without thinking.

 His head turned toward me very slightly. I smoothed his lapel and looked back at the room with the expression of a woman who was perfectly comfortable.

 A male journalist in the third row was already smiling. "Your wife seems very in love with you, Mr. Ashford." He said it warmly.

 "Of course I am." The words came out of my mouth before I had fully decided to say them. I heard Dominic go still beside me. I didn't look at him. I kept my eyes on the journalist. "He's my husband."

 "That's lovely." The journalist leaned forward. "How did you two meet?"

 "We met —" Dominic started.

 "Let me answer that, my husband." I reached up and touched his cheek once, light as anything, and turned back to the microphone.

 I heard the shutters go off and I heard Dominic's breath. I know i just broke rule seven of no physical contact. 

 "We met through volunteering, actually." I said. The room was very quiet. "I was at an orphanage home — I used to volunteer there on weekends — and he came in there, so I asked the owner who he was, and I was told he came to make a donation. He's one of their main sponsors." I paused to let that land, because it made him sound human, and a human Dominic Ashford was useful to me right now. "I went to thank him afterward and he told me I looked pretty and asked for my number."

 Murmurs moved through the room like a wave. Beside me, i felt Dominic gone completely still in the way that meant he was furious and was choosing not to show it.

 "After that we started spending time together." I continued. "And here we are."

 Applause broke out. Actual applause, from journalists, which I had not expected but accepted graciously.

 "That's a beautiful story." A female journalist near the front raised her hand. "It shows a different side of Mr. Ashford from what we usually see. But how did you keep it so private? Nobody knew anything until the wedding announcement."

 "We..." Dominic started, but i cut him off.

 "I planned it that way." I said simply. "I'm not a very public person. And my husband—" I turned to look at Dominic then, and I made sure the cameras caught the look. “...is a handsome man, a lot of women want him, women literally just notice him whereever he goes and clung to him…” I let my eyes drift to the corner where Celeste was standing. "I didn't want the attention until we were official." I looked back at the journalist. "Some things are worth protecting."

 The room loved that. I could feel it — the shift in temperature that happens when an audience decides they like you.

 The female journalist was still smiling. "You two are adorable together. So when is the honeymoon? Any plans?"

 "We haven't really decided —" I started.

 "Tomorrow." Dominic's voice came in smooth and clean and completely without warning. "We leave tomorrow."

 I turned to look at him. He was looking at the cameras. His expression hadn't changed. He looked like a m

an who had just confirmed a business meeting, not like a man who had just announced something to me that I had absolutely no prior knowledge of.

 "What?!”