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Thirty eight
Last Updated:
2025-03-22 22:29:01
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Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Thirty nine
~Fallon~The house felt too big without him.Which was ridiculous.Reid and I barely spent time together when he was home, moving around each other like polite strangers. Separate rooms, separate lives. We’d mastered the art of coexistence — the kind where you shared space but not warmth. The kind where silence was easier than words.But now that he was gone —I felt the absence everywhere.It was in the cool, empty side of the bed in his bedroom that hadn’t been touched in days. In the faint, lingering scent of his cologne on the jacket he’d left draped over the chair. In the echo of my own footsteps on the marble floors, where his used to fall in rhythm beside mine even when we were fighting — as usual.The silence wasn’t peaceful. It was deafening.I told myself not to care. But that was a lie.Work Doesn’t HelpI threw myself into work, desperate for distraction.I set up my camera in the sun-drenched bathroom, arranging products in perfect symmetry on the counter. The lighting wa
Last Updated : 2025-03-22Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Forty
~Reid~Switzerland was colder than I remembered. Or maybe it was just me.The glass-walled conference room overlooked Lake Geneva, its icy surface reflecting the pale winter sun. Beyond it, the snow-capped Alps stood sharp against a cloudless blue sky — beautiful, imposing, unmoving.It should’ve been calming. Impressive, even.But all I felt was restless.Because my phone sat face-down on the table, and I was forcing myself not to check it.“Mr. Callahan?”I looked up, masking my distraction with practiced ease. My expression was unreadable — the kind I’d perfected over years of negotiations and high-stakes deals.“Go on,” I said coolly.The man across from me — some European financier with too much confidence and not enough leverage — shifted nervously under my gaze. The room was warm, but I watched a bead of sweat slip down his temple.Good.That meant I still had the upper hand.“We’re prepared to move forward with the terms you outlined,” he said, his voice carefully measured. “B
Last Updated : 2025-03-22Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Forty one
~Fallon~The Callahan estate was as intimidating as ever.All glass and stone and old money elegance, sitting at the edge of a perfectly manicured lawn that stretched on for acres. The kind of house where everything felt too pristine to touch — too polished, too perfect.Too easy to break.And today —It felt like a trap.My heels clicked against the marble floors as I stepped inside the grand foyer. The place always smelled faintly of roses and old wood, the scent so familiar it felt like stepping into another life — one I’d never quite fit into.“Fallon, darling!”Evelyn Callahan’s voice rang out like music, warm and welcoming as ever. She swept toward me with that effortless grace, her arms outstretched, her designer silk dress flowing as if she were gliding. The hug was light and perfumed, like everything about her — delicate but calculated.“I’m so glad you could come,” she said, pulling back with a beaming smile. Her perfectly styled blonde hair didn’t move an inch.“Of course,”
Last Updated : 2025-03-23Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract Forty two
~Fallon~The mansion felt colder when Reid wasn’t in it.Not that I cared.I kept telling myself that.The silence was a blessing — no arguments, no clipped conversations, no lingering looks I didn’t want to think about. No pretending. Just peace.And yet, the emptiness pressed down harder than it should have. It stretched through every inch of the house, filling the polished rooms and pristine hallways with a quiet that felt heavy instead of restful. The house was too big, too elegant — and without the sharp edge of Reid’s presence, it felt like a museum. Beautiful and hollow.But that was a good thing. It was what I wanted.At least that’s what I told myself as I wandered into the kitchen for a late-night snack. The clock on the wall read just after midnight, and the cool marble floors sent a shiver up my spine. I moved on instinct, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and a bottle of water from the fridge, trying not to think about the ache of the quiet.I shouldn’t miss his voice.Or
Last Updated : 2025-03-23Fallon’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 : 2025-03-25
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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
