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Forty two
Last Updated:
2025-03-23 20:56:37
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Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Forty three
~Fallon~The sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, and I froze.He was back.For a second, I couldn’t breathe. My fingers tightened around the phone in my hand, but I didn’t look at the screen. My eyes stayed locked on the hallway outside my bedroom, and I listened.Footsteps. Slow, steady, unhurried. The sound of his shoes against the marble floors sent an ache through my chest — one I refused to name. I heard his voice a moment later, low and calm as he spoke to one of the staff. He didn’t sound tired. He didn’t sound…anything.Then — silence.I waited. I told myself I wasn’t, but I did. I waited for the sound of his steps moving toward me. For the knock on my door. For his voice saying my name.But it never came.He didn’t come looking for me.The minutes stretched out, the quiet in the house growing heavier with each one. My pulse slowed. My grip on the phone loosened.And I told myself this was a good thing. That I didn’t want to see him. That I didn’t care.B
Last Updated : 2025-03-23Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Forty four
~Fallon~Days passed. Then a week.And I barely saw my supposed husband.It was almost impressive—the way Reid managed to disappear without ever technically leaving. The house was massive, sprawling in every direction, but it still felt like a skill. Like he knew exactly how to avoid me without making it obvious.His side of the mansion stayed quiet. The heavy door to his office remained closed more often than not, and when I passed by, I sometimes caught the low murmur of his voice—clipped conversations that never involved me.And when I didn’t hear him at all—The silence was worse.We fell into a strange rhythm—two people sharing a home without ever really occupying it together.Reid left early. I’d hear the sound of his footsteps in the hallway before sunrise, the soft click of the front door closing behind him. By the time I finally wandered into the kitchen, his coffee mug was already rinsed and gone, his presence reduced to a faint trace of cologne lingering in the air.I staye
Last Updated : 2025-03-24Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Forty five
~Fallon~ The invitation arrived on heavy cardstock, embossed and impossibly elegant — just like everything in the Callahan orbit.The Bennett Foundation Annual GalaI barely had time to process it before my phone buzzed with a text from Reid.Reid: We’re expected. Be ready by seven.That was it. No “please,” no “are you okay with this?” — just an order, like always.My fingers tightened around my phone, irritation sparking in my chest.I was so tired of feeling like an afterthought.When the stylist showed up with an entire rack of couture gowns, I almost told her not to bother. I wanted to rebel — to throw on jeans and a t-shirt and see how Reid liked it.But the Callahan name had expectations. And I knew how to play my part.So I chose a sleek, black satin dress that clung in all the right places and left my back bare. The fabric whispered against my skin with every step, and when I slipped on diamond drop earrings and heels high enough to be dangerous, I looked like the perfect bi
Last Updated : 2025-03-24Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Forty six
~Reid~I’ve always prided myself on maintaining control—both in the boardroom and in my personal life. But sometimes, even I can’t silence the disquiet that gnaws at the edges of my carefully constructed façade. The gala was supposed to be a simple public relations event: a stage for the perfect couple, a polished performance for the cameras. And yet, as I watched Fallon in that midnight blue dress, smiling for the flashbulbs while I played the stoic billionaire husband, I felt something crack deep inside.I remember the moment vividly. Standing on the red carpet, my hand on hers, I saw a flicker in her eyes—an emotion I’d been trying to lock away. I forced a smile for the press and the cameras, but inside, I was seething with conflicted feelings. Was it anger? Regret? Or something I wasn’t ready to admit at all—an unexpected, raw vulnerability?After the gala, I returned to the quiet of my own world in LA. The mansion, my private sanctuary, was as pristine as ever. Yet every corner e
Last Updated : 2025-03-25Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Forty seven
~Fallon~The Callahan estate was even more intimidating when you knew you were walking into an ambush.Okay, maybe ambush was dramatic. But sitting through dinner with our families — pretending everything was perfect — felt a lot like stepping onto a stage without knowing my lines. And this stage? It came with crystal chandeliers, priceless art, and an audience of people who would pick up on any false note.The house was already bustling when we arrived, the sound of laughter and conversation spilling from the grand dining room. Reid’s hand rested lightly on my back, guiding me inside, and for a brief, fleeting second, it felt… natural.I hated that.Because this wasn’t natural. It was calculated. Just another part of the performance.The Callahans’ staff floated around us in perfectly choreographed movements — collecting coats, offering drinks — and the entire space radiated the kind of wealth that was so ingrained it didn’t even need to be announced. The air smelled like expensive f
Last Updated : 2025-03-25Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Forty eight
~Fallon~The energy of a launch event was electric — bright lights, loud music, and the hum of conversations between the who’s-who of the industry. It was the kind of night where everything sparkled: the clothes, the jewelry, the champagne — even the air itself felt charged with anticipation.And as I stepped into the sprawling venue for Lumière’s highly anticipated product launch, I felt something I hadn’t in weeks.Excitement.This was my world.Not the cold marble floors of Reid’s mansion. Not the high-stakes dinner parties or whispered conversations about mergers. Not the pressure of being the perfect wife in a marriage built on carefully constructed lies.Here, I was Fallon Prescott Callahan — the influencer. The brand. The woman everyone wanted to know.And tonight? I was ready to shine.My phone buzzed nonstop with notifications as soon as I posted my fit check.The dress was a showstopper — soft gold silk that draped like liquid, the hem brushing my ankles while the thigh-high
Last Updated : 2025-03-26Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Forty nine
~Fallon~I wasn’t technically snooping.I was exploring.That’s what I told myself, anyway, as I wandered through one of the many unused rooms in Reid’s impossibly large mansion. The house was so pristine, so perfect, it barely felt lived in — all cold elegance and curated spaces that felt more like a museum than a home.But this room was different.The air smelled faintly of dust and old paper, and sunlight streamed through tall windows, catching the slow swirl of dust motes in the stillness. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, packed with books that looked untouched — their spines uncreased and colors faded. A worn armchair sat in the corner, its leather cracked and softened with age, the only sign that someone had ever spent time here.It felt… forgotten.Which made it all the more tempting.I moved slowly, my fingers brushing over the shelves, the edges of the desk, the cool glass of framed black-and-white photos I didn’t stop to study. There was a quiet intimacy to this spa
Last Updated : 2025-03-26Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Fifty
~Fallon~The second I answered my mom’s video call, her face filled my screen — already mid-sentence and in full dramatic flow.“—and I told your aunt not to dye her hair that shade of red, but does she listen to me? No. Now she looks like she’s auditioning for a telenovela villain role.”I burst out laughing, sinking deeper into the couch. “Hi, mom. Nice to see you too.”She waved a hand, completely unbothered. “Ay, I see you all the time. You’re all over the internet.”I groaned. “Don’t remind me.”“Oh, I will.” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at the screen. “That kiss at the gala? Dios mío, I thought I was going to faint.”Of course she brought that up.“Mom—”“Everyone’s talking about it!” she continued, completely ignoring my attempts to derail the conversation. “Your cousins won’t stop sending me articles. Even your grandmother called to ask when the babies are coming.”I nearly choked on my water. “Mom!”“Well?” she pressed, eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “When
Last Updated : 2025-03-26
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Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract One hundred and twenty four
~Reid~The suitcase sat half-packed on the bed, but my attention wasn’t on it.It was on Fallon.She stood in the doorway of my room, arms crossed, her silk robe loosely tied around her waist, hair still damp from her shower. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a golden hue over her skin, and for a moment, it felt too easy to remember the way she’d looked at me that night in the car.The way she’d kissed me.Or maybe I kissed her.It didn’t matter.What mattered was that we hadn’t talked about it since.And judging by the way she was watching me now, we weren’t going to be able to keep avoiding it.She exhaled, stepping inside. Slow, deliberate. The kind of movement that made me think she was choosing her words carefully before she even spoke.“So,” she said, her voice casual. Too casual. “Where this time?”“London.” I folded a dress shirt and placed it neatly in my suitcase. “Just a couple of days.”She hummed, watching me pack. “You’ve been traveling a lot lately.”I glanced at h
Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract One hundred and twenty three
~Reid~Fallon was magnetic tonight.It wasn’t just the way she looked—the deep emerald dress that hugged her in all the right places, the delicate earrings that caught the light whenever she turned her head. It was the way she moved. Effortless. Confident. Like she was born for this world of flashing cameras and murmured intrigue.And maybe she was.I’d seen her in action before, but tonight, something was different.Maybe it was the way she handled the whispers, the way she laughed at the right moments and sidestepped invasive questions with a smile sharp enough to draw blood. Maybe it was the way she threw out a perfectly timed remark that left people either admiring her or wondering if she had just insulted them.Or maybe it was the fact that, for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t just watching her play the role—I was part of it.She stood beside me, poised but relaxed, one hand wrapped lightly around the stem of a champagne flute. She wasn’t drinking it. Just holding it, an
Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract One hundred and twenty two
~Fallon~The moment we stepped into the event, all eyes turned to us.Flashing cameras. Murmurs that rippled through the room like a wave. The weight of a hundred socialites’ gazes assessing, whispering, speculating.I was used to this. The attention. The scrutiny. The carefully curated perfection that was expected at these high-profile events. But tonight, something felt different.Maybe it was because Reid was here with me.His presence altered the balance. He wasn’t just another attendee—he was a force. Tall, sharp, effortlessly commanding in a tailored black suit that looked like it had been crafted just for him. The air shifted around him. People either tried to impress him or feared getting in his way.And yet, despite his usual unshakable demeanor, I could tell he wasn’t entirely comfortable.“You hate these things,” I murmured as we glided through the crowd.Reid’s jaw ticked, but his hand on my lower back didn’t falter. “I tolerate them.”I smirked. “Liar. You despise them.”
Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract One hundred and twenty one
~Fallon~I knew the moment I opened my eyes that today was going to be a whirlwind.Mornings in my world were never slow. There was always something to plan, something to post, someone to respond to. The moment I reached for my phone, notifications flooded my screen—emails from my management team, campaign updates, and an invite to yet another exclusive event that I wasn’t sure I wanted to attend.I exhaled, already feeling the rush of the day creeping in, but this was the life I had built, and I loved it.Still, it was a lot. More than it used to be.A year ago, I could handle everything myself. The emails, the collaborations, the content planning—I thrived on it. But ever since my following had exploded, so had the demands. My campaigns were bigger, my schedule tighter, my inbox never-ending.Which was exactly why I now had Maya.Her hiring hadn’t been my idea.It had been Reid’s.“You can’t do everything yourself anymore,” he had said, watching me juggle three phone calls while rev
Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract One hundred and twenty
~Fallon~I wasn’t sure when I first noticed it. Maybe it was the sharp edge to Reid’s voice when his assistant mentioned Pierce Industries. Or the way his jaw tightened, the muscle there ticking, when his father casually brought up Alexander at the last family dinner.Or maybe it was how, right now, as we sat across from each other in his office, he had barely looked up from his laptop in the last thirty minutes.Something was wrong.Reid wasn’t the type to let emotions cloud his judgment—at least, not in business. He was too methodical for that. But whatever had happened between him and Alexander Pierce, it wasn’t just business.And it was getting under his skin.I closed the folder I had been pretending to read and leaned back in my chair, watching him. His office was sleek, all dark wood and glass, every detail curated for power and precision. Reid himself was no different—clad in a crisp white shirt, sleeves pushed up just enough to hint at ease, though the tightness in his should
Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract One hundred and nineteen
ReidThe office buzzed with its usual efficiency—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, the steady murmur of negotiations happening behind closed doors. I thrived in this chaos. Controlled, predictable, productive. It was a far cry from the staged interviews and socialite dinners that had dominated my life lately.Here, I was in control.Or at least, I had been.Until the moment Ethan, my CFO, stepped into my office with a carefully neutral expression that immediately set me on edge.“We have a situation,” he said, shutting the door behind him.I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly. “Go on.”Ethan slid a folder across my desk. “Pierce Holdings just made a bid for the Kingston project.”My fingers tightened around the folder before I even opened it.Kingston was supposed to be ours. It was one of the most sought-after commercial real estate developments of the year, and I’d spent months laying the groundwork to secure it. My team had vetted every risk, anticipated every counteroffer.
Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract One hundred and eighteen
~Fallon~The Callahans knew how to throw a dinner party.The ballroom of the Callahan estate had been transformed into a vision of understated opulence—soft golden lighting, towering floral arrangements, crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the sea of finely dressed guests. It was the kind of gathering where wealth wasn’t flaunted but effortlessly woven into every detail.I was used to these events. I had attended them my entire life.But this time, I was attending after a scandal that almost blew our cover as a couple. And the weight of that title settled heavily on my shoulders.Reid and I entered together, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back—a practiced gesture, perfectly executed for the benefit of the watchful eyes dissecting our every move. He looked as effortlessly put together as ever, clad in a tailored black suit, his sharp features unreadable. I, in contrast, had spent too much time choosing the perfect dress—something elegant but not too soft, somethi
Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract One hundred and seventeen
~Fallon~I should’ve known this would happen.The moment the interview aired, the internet exploded.And I mean exploded.The clip of Reid saying “Sometimes” in response to missing the past was spreading like wildfire, impossible to avoid. It was everywhere—spliced into fan edits, dissected in think pieces, slowed down, zoomed in, paired with heart-wrenching music and captions that made it impossible to ignore.At first, I told myself I wouldn’t look.Then, five minutes later, I was doom scrolling through the wreckage like an addict in withdrawal.Every single post was a fresh disaster.— @fallonandreidupdates: “THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER. THIS MAN IS IN LOVE, AND SHE HAS NO IDEA. Okay many she does. She’s his wife. Lol.”— @popculturetea: “Reid Callahan saying ‘sometimes’ when asked if he misses their past is the most devastatingly romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed.”— @obsessedwithfallon: “No, but the way Fallon looked like she forgot how to breathe when he said it??? Someone check on
Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract One hundred and sixteen
~Fallon~I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this.The cozy atmosphere, the warm lighting, the way Reid and I had effortlessly slipped into this routine. It was too easy. Too familiar.Too dangerous.Because I knew what would happen if I let myself forget—even for a second—that this was still a game.This was our second interview this week. Another glossy, exclusive sit-down designed to steer the public narrative in our favor. Another carefully controlled conversation meant to prove that our marriage wasn’t built on smoke and mirrors.And yet, as I sat next to Reid on the plush couch of this sleek, modern studio, the bright lights illuminating us in a soft, flattering glow, I realized something unsettling.I wasn’t sure where the performance ended and where reality began.The host, a sharp-eyed woman in a perfectly tailored blazer, leaned forward, smiling like she was in on some inside joke we weren’t yet aware of.“You two have known each other for so long,” she mused. “Long before the
