~Fallon~I had a bad feeling about this.When Reid said he’d “handle it,” I should have pressed for details. Should have demanded to know exactly what he planned to do. But instead, I let my exhaustion win and trusted that he—out of all people—wouldn’t make things worse.That was my first mistake.The next morning, I woke up to a storm.Not from the trolls this time, but from Reid himself.“Billionaire CEO Reid Callahan Defends Fiancée Fallon Prescott Against Gold Digger Accusations!”“Reid Callahan Claps Back at Critics: ‘Fallon Doesn’t Need My Money’”“Inside the Callahan-Prescott Engagement: Love or Business Deal?”My fingers trembled as I clicked on one of the articles, my heart sinking with every word.Reid had given a statement to the press.And not just any statement.He had claimed that I was an independent woman who had built her career from scratch, that I never once relied on my father’s wealth, that our love story was private but real.Real.The word made me feel sick.Thr
~Fallon~If I had known what today had in store for me, I would have faked an emergency and stayed home.Instead, I was sitting in the backseat of a chauffeur-driven car, on my way to meet Reid’s mother for an afternoon of shopping.I liked Mrs. Callahan. She was warm, elegant, and effortlessly charming—the kind of woman who made you feel at ease in her presence. Unlike my own mother, who was all about appearances and reputation, Mrs. Callahan actually seemed genuinely excited about this wedding.That was the problem.Because I was about to spend the next few hours pretending to be a blushing bride-to-be while knowing full well this wedding was nothing more than a carefully orchestrated business deal.The car pulled up in front of an upscale designer boutique, and the moment I stepped out, I spotted Mrs. Callahan waiting by the entrance, her eyes lighting up when she saw me.“Fallon, darling!” she beamed, pulling me into a hug. “You look stunning, as always.”“Mrs. Callahan,” I greete
~Reid~The Callahan family estate had always been a symbol of power and legacy—a constant reminder of the expectations placed on me since birth.Walking into my father’s office, I was met with the familiar scent of expensive cigars and aged bourbon. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, not for reading but for display. A statement of wealth, influence, and control.My father sat behind his massive mahogany desk, sifting through paperwork, his expression unreadable.“Reid,” he greeted without looking up. “I assume you’re here to discuss the merger?”I lowered myself into the chair across from him, my fingers tapping against the armrest. “The engagement announcement did its job. The media’s eating it up, and Prescott Enterprises’ stock has stabilized for now.”He nodded, finally setting down his papers to look at me. His sharp, calculating gaze was the same as it had always been—measuring, assessing.“Good. Then we move forward with finalizing the contracts.”I exhaled
~Fallon~I scrolled through my comment section, my fingers tightening around my phone with each new message.“Omg, show us the ring again!”“How’s wedding planning going?!”“What’s the theme of the wedding?”“Can we get a fiancé reveal???”“Girl, you really bagged a billionaire. Goals!”I groaned, tossing my phone onto the couch before dragging my hands down my face.This was getting ridiculous.Ever since the engagement announcement, my entire brand had shifted without my permission. I used to post lifestyle content, beauty tutorials, and vlogs about everyday things. But now? My followers only wanted wedding updates. They didn’t care about my latest skincare routine or the hard work I put into my content.They only cared about him.And the wedding.And the fairytale fantasy they’d created in their minds.I was supposed to be running my own platform, building my brand, controlling my own narrative. But suddenly, I wasn’t Fallon Prescott, content creator and entrepreneur—I was Reid Cal
~Fallon~The dining room table was drowning in wedding plans. Fabric swatches, floral arrangement samples, and endless seating charts covered every inch of the polished wood surface.And Reid?Nowhere to be found.I stared at the chaos before me, my frustration simmering beneath the surface. For weeks, I had been the one juggling meetings with the planner, answering endless emails, and making every single decision about this wedding.Our wedding.Except Reid had barely lifted a finger.The sound of the front door clicking shut broke my train of thought.“Finally,” I muttered under my breath.Reid’s heavy footsteps echoed through the hall, and moments later, he appeared, looking entirely too composed for a man walking into a battlefield. He loosened his tie and glanced at the table, his brows lifting slightly.“Busy day?” he asked casually.I folded my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. “You think?”He ignored my tone and strolled over, picking up a seating chart. “Who’s this… Lillian St.
~Fallon~The soft chime of the boutique’s doorbell greeted me as I stepped inside, the scent of fresh roses and vanilla filling the air. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over racks of satin, lace, and tulle.I felt the weight of it immediately—this was the moment. The one every little girl supposedly dreams of. Only, my dream had never looked like this.“Miss Prescott,” the sales associate greeted with a bright smile. “Welcome to Maison Leclerc. We’re honored to help you find your dress today.”I managed a polite nod, my palms already clammy.The only person more excited than the boutique staff was, of course, her.Mrs. Callahan—Evelyn—floated in like she owned the place, her eyes twinkling as they met mine. “Fallon, darling! I just know today is going to be magical!”I fought the urge to bolt.Instead, I plastered on a smile. “Let’s hope so.”Truth be told, I wasn’t even sure why I was here. This wasn’t a wedding built on love—it was a contract
~Reid~The sound of billiard balls cracking against each other echoed through the private lounge, accompanied by the low hum of jazz from the overhead speakers.I lined up my next shot, calculating the angle as the familiar voice behind me broke the silence.“You’re overthinking it.”Without looking up, I replied, “I always think.”“You always overthink,” my best friend, Luke Hayes, countered, leaning lazily against his pool cue with a smirk. “Maybe that’s why you suck at this game.”With a sharp tap, I sent the cue ball gliding across the green felt. It clipped the corner of the solid three ball—just barely—sending it into the pocket.I straightened, giving him a pointed look. “Still winning, aren’t I?”Luke chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Remind me again how you manage to beat me without ever having fun?”I ignored his jab and chalked my cue. “Are you here to lose, or to lecture me?”“Both,” he shot back easily. “And to find out why you’ve been so goddamn tense lately.”I glanced up at him,
~Fallon~The ballroom at the Callahan estate was breathtaking—white orchids cascading from towering centerpieces, the soft flicker of candlelight casting everything in a golden glow. It was perfect.And I hated every inch of it.Not because it wasn’t beautiful—it was. But because it felt like I was starring in a play I hadn’t auditioned for. A dress rehearsal for a wedding that, in every way that mattered, wasn’t real.I barely had time to gather myself before Evelyn appeared, radiant with excitement. “Fallon, darling! You look stunning!”I forced a smile. “You outdid yourself, Evelyn. This is… incredible.”She beamed, squeezing my hands. “I just want everything to be perfect for you two. The press is already buzzing—‘The Wedding of the Year,’ they’re calling it.”I fought the urge to cringe. Of course they were.Evelyn’s eyes sparkled. “Now, all you and Reid have to do is enjoy yourselves. And remember,” she added with a wink, “tonight’s about showing everyone what a perfect match yo
~Fallon~I wasn’t thinking about it.Not really.I had laughed when I brought it up to Reid, brushing it off as just another absurd expectation from my parents. The idea of them pushing for grandkids when Reid and I hadn’t even so much as—I stopped myself before the thought could fully form.Ridiculous.It wasn’t worth thinking about.Except, hours later, curled up on the couch with my laptop open and a reality show playing in the background, I was still thinking about it.And not in the way I should have been.I closed my laptop, sighing as I leaned my head back against the cushions. My eyes traced the familiar details of the ceiling, the shadows shifting as the glow from the TV flickered across the room. I knew why this conversation had stuck with me more than it should have.Reid and I had been growing… closer.Not in the way newlyweds typically did, but in a way that unsettled me more than I liked to admit. We had been pushing boundaries, slipping into something dangerous.I coul
~Reid~The call came in while I was going over reports in my hotel room. I hadn’t expected Fallon to reach out tonight—especially since we’d both been busy in our own worlds lately—but as soon as I saw her name flash across the screen, I answered.“You finally missed me,” I teased, leaning back against the headboard.Fallon scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just had the most ridiculous conversation with my parents, and I needed someone to roll my eyes at.”I smirked. “Lucky me.”She made a sound of agreement, then sighed. “They want grandkids.”That got my attention. I lowered the papers in my hand. “Grandkids?”“Mmhmm. My dad was going on about how it’s expected. My mom not-so-subtly reminded me that I’m not getting any younger.” Her voice was dry. “As if I’m ancient.”I huffed a laugh. “That’s ambitious of them.”“Right?” Fallon sighed. “I told them it was crazy. Like, how do they expect grandkids when we haven’t even had sex?”Silence.A beat too long.I should have responded imm
~Fallon~I should have known this was coming.The moment I stepped into my parents’ estate, greeted by the scent of freshly polished wood and the ever-present murmur of classical music playing from the speakers, I felt it in my bones.A setup.It wasn’t unusual for my mother to summon me for an impromptu lunch—an elegant spread prepared by the chef, white wine poured into delicate crystal glasses, the kind of gathering that was meant to feel casual but was anything but.And my father? He rarely joined these midday affairs, too busy running his empire. But today, he was here, seated at the head of the long dining table, his expression unreadable as he watched me and my mother with quiet intensity.Something was up.I just didn’t expect it to be this.“You and Reid have been married for some time now,” my mother said, her voice light, too light, as she delicately sliced into her poached salmon.I took a sip of wine, feigning disinterest. “So I’ve noticed.”Vivian Prescott shot me a look
~Fallon~Mia’s apartment was a stark contrast to mine—smaller, cozier, and filled with personality. A mix of colorful throw pillows, scented candles, and an ever-growing collection of coffee mugs took up space in her living room. It was the kind of place that felt warm, lived-in, unapologetically her.I had barely stepped through the door before she pulled me into a tight hug.“Finally,” she groaned. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me.”I laughed, letting her squeeze me for a second longer before pulling back. “I’ve been busy.”“I know,” she said knowingly, her eyes flickering with curiosity. “Too busy to even text back sometimes.”I rolled my eyes, toeing off my heels as I made my way to the couch. “Oh, please. We literally talked two days ago.”“Yeah, but that was just a check-in. This—” She plopped down beside me, pulling her legs up onto the couch. “—is long overdue.”She wasn’t wrong. Between my work, the interviews, and navigating whatever was happening betwe
~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
~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~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~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~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