LOGINNate caught her hand as she turned away. “Say yes, Dahlia.” She didn’t look at him. “To what this time?” His smile was slow, dangerous. “To letting me eat you tonight” Her breath stilled. “You don’t take hints, do you?” “Only the ones that sound like maybe.” His thumb traced her palm, his voice low enough to make her heartbeat trip. She pulled back, just barely. “Goodnight, Nate.” He grinned, unbothered. “Night, wife. I’ll ask again tomorrow.” *********** When ruthless CEO Dahlia Reyes discovers her boyfriend and her best friend in bed together-and plotting to steal her inheritance—she does the most un-Dahlia thing imaginable. She drinks too much and wakes up married to a sex worker. Her “husband,” Nate, is charming, infuriating, and far too comfortable calling her wife. Dahlia’s ready to annul the whole disaster-until she learns she legally can’t for a year. Desperate to save face (and maybe twist fate in her favor), Dahlia decides to use the fake marriage to her advantage. What she doesn’t know is that Nate isn’t the broke drifter and he's watching her with equal parts amusement and admiration. Now, between public appearances, the plotting of the evil people ready to ruin their lives, staged affection, and the slow burn of something too real to fake, Dahlia’s carefully built walls begin to crack. And Nate? He’s determined to make sure she falls-for him, for real, and hard. A story of betrayal, accidental vows, and the slow, intoxicating fall between a woman who doesn’t believe in love and a man who plans to prove her wrong.
View MoreThe city slid past in ribbons of light - neon smears and streetlamps blurring into a river of gold and silver. Inside the car it felt like they were moving through a liquid painting: the hum of the engine, the soft leather beneath Dahlia’s fingers, and the mild electric fizz of anticipation that always came before something big. The skyline glittered like an audience waiting to be impressed.But Nate wasn’t feeling any of that beauty.As the sleek black car cut through the downtown avenue, his stomach was tying itself into tight, nauseating knots.What if someone recognized him?Sure, he was wearing the mask. Sure, Dahlia’s team had done a good job keeping him out of the spotlight. But this wasn’t just any party. This was his charity gala - the biggest annual event under Harrington Enterprises. Every executive, investor, and news outlet that mattered would be there. The odds of him walking away unseen were about as high as him surviving a plane crash… without the plane.Maybe, he told
It was getting harder to keep this secret from Dahlia.The woman was too smart for her own good - sharp, quick, and somehow always living rent-free in his head.Nate sat in a boardroom, staring blankly at the man talking in front of him. He could see the man’s lips moving but couldn’t hear a single word. His brain was far away, probably still stuck replaying Dahlia’s expression the night before.“Mr. Harrington?”The voice dragged him halfway back to reality. He blinked and looked around the table. Several men in suits were staring at him expectantly.“Mr. Harrington, should we move on with this project?”He blinked again. Oh. Right. He was in a meeting.“Yes,” Nate finally said, forcing his voice steady. “Uh… meeting adjourned.” he muttered, standing abruptly and walking out. The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving a room full of very confused executives.He loosened his tie and rubbed the back of his neck.Get it together, man.Between pretending to be a house husband
Dahlia couldn’t stop thinking about Tyler. The nerve of that man - showing up in her office like nothing had happened. She was still angry, but more than that, she was disappointed. Disappointed in herself for ever lowering her standards for someone like him. The door clicked open, and she stepped inside, greeted by dim lighting and the faint scent of something savory. It was quiet. Too quiet. “Did he go out?” she muttered, locking the door behind her. Not that she’d complain if Nate decided to take the night off. The man was charming in the most irritating way possible. She turned toward her room, and that was when she heard it - soft footsteps from the stairwell. “Well, so much for peace,” she whispered under her breath. “Hey, Nate,” she said casually, not even looking back. “Where are you going?” His voice was low, unusually deep. She blinked and turned around, one brow raised. “Uh… to my room? Where else would I be going?” He was closer than she expected - close enough
Tyler’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel.A month had passed since Dahlia’s birthday - a month since his brilliant plan had blown up in his face.And now? Everything else was crumbling right along with it.He was stuck with Yvaine.He glanced up at her through the car window as she waddled inside the apartment building with a bag of takeout in hand. His lip curled in disgust.He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized it before - maybe because he’d been blinded by anger and greed. She was a cheap imitation - a knockoff version of Dahlia, and an ugly one at that.Since the party, they’d been living together, and all Yvaine did was sit around eating, complaining, and spending what little money they had left. She was ruining the only thing that ever made her useful - her body. No one would book her for modeling jobs now.“Fuck!” Tyler slammed the steering wheel.His life was falling apart faster than he could glue it back together. His company was hemorrhaging money, his investo
The day had finally come to an end.Dahlia was starting to think she’d gotten trapped in a time loop, with how painfully slow it had dragged on.The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, releasing Dahlia into the quiet corridor that led to her penthouse. She exhaled slowly, shoulders heavy fr
The day passed in a blur of paperwork, emails and phone calls. Dahlia had been waiting all day for this moment-the one confrontation she knew was coming. By the time the message arrived that the board meeting was about to begin, she was more than ready.The heels of her shoes clicked sharply agains
The morning light crept through the tall glass windows of the penthouse, painting soft gold across the marble floor. Dahlia eased open her bedroom door, careful not to make a sound. Her heels clicked lightly as she tiptoed into the hall, purse in hand, determined to make it out before he woke up.H
The door clicked shut behind them with a satisfying finality. Dahlia stepped into the penthouse and let the soft hush of the place wash over her-glass walls framing the city like a constellation, oak floors that still smelled faintly of polish, a minimalist sofa the color of storm clouds, and a ki






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