~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
~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,”
~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
~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
~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
~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
~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
~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
~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