Chapter 3 – Jealousy Looks Good on You

Three days after the public reveal, the whole business world already knew my name.

Mrs. Hayes.

It still felt strange hearing it.

I was in Logan’s office again, reviewing documents he insisted I “learn.” Apparently, being his wife meant understanding the empire he built.

“You’re distracted,” he said without looking up from his laptop.

“I’m bored,” I corrected.

A faint smirk touched his lips. “You won’t be for long. There’s a gala tonight.”

Of course there was.

“And I have to go?”

“You don’t have to,” he replied calmly. “But you will.”

I rolled my eyes. “You really love deciding for me.”

“I really love being right.”

Arrogant.

Infuriating.

And somehow… magnetic.

The gala was everything I expected — glittering chandeliers, expensive gowns, men in tailored suits discussing numbers that probably equaled entire countries’ GDP.

Logan’s hand rested on my lower back the entire time.

Not gripping.

Just there.

A reminder.

“This is exhausting,” I muttered under my breath.

“You’re doing fine,” he murmured close to my ear. “Smile less.”

“What?”

“I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.”

I blinked. “Who?”

“Every man in this room.”

I almost laughed. “You’re being dramatic.”

His jaw tightened slightly. “Am I?”

Before I could respond, a voice interrupted.

“Logan Hayes. Didn’t expect you to show up.”

We both turned.

Tall. Confident. Late twenties. Familiar smile.

My heart skipped.

“Ethan?” I breathed.

He looked just as shocked. “Lila? What are you doing here?”

The air shifted instantly.

Logan’s hand stilled on my back.

“You know each other?” Logan’s voice was smooth. Too smooth.

“He’s my friend,” I answered quickly. “From college.”

Ethan smiled warmly at me. “You disappeared. No calls. No replies.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With him?” Ethan’s gaze flickered to Logan.

Logan extended his hand first. “Logan Hayes.”

Ethan shook it. “Ethan Carter.”

The handshake lasted half a second too long.

Two alpha personalities measuring each other.

“I didn’t know you were married,” Ethan said casually, but his eyes were questioning me.

“It was sudden,” I replied.

“Clearly,” Logan added.

The tension was thick enough to slice.

“I was just telling Lila,” Ethan continued, “we should catch up sometime. Coffee. Like old times.”

Silence.

Logan’s thumb pressed slightly against my waist.

Subtle.

Possessive.

“She won’t be available,” Logan said evenly.

I stiffened. “Logan—”

“My wife has a full schedule.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I wasn’t asking you.”

That did it.

The temperature between them dropped ten degrees.

Logan smiled.

But it wasn’t friendly.

“You don’t ask what’s mine.”

There it was again.

Mine.

Ethan looked at me. “You okay with that?”

The question hit deeper than I expected.

Was I?

Logan’s hand slowly left my waist.

Not because he didn’t want to hold me.

Because he wanted to see what I’d say.

I lifted my chin slightly. “I can decide for myself.”

Ethan nodded once. “Good.”

Logan’s expression didn’t change.

But his eyes darkened.

“Enjoy the evening,” Ethan said before walking away.

The ride home was silent.

Too silent.

I stared out the window, feeling the tension radiating from Logan beside me.

“You smiled at him,” he said finally.

“What?”

“You smiled at him.”

“It’s called being polite.”

“It wasn’t polite.”

I turned to face him. “You’re being unreasonable.”

His jaw ticked. “You think I didn’t see the way he looked at you?”

“So what if he did?”

The car stopped at a red light.

Logan turned his head slowly.

“Because he looked at you like he still has a chance.”

My breath caught.

“And that bothers you?” I challenged.

The light turned green, but he didn’t move immediately.

“Yes.”

The honesty surprised me again.

“Why?” I pressed.

His voice dropped lower.

“Because I don’t compete.”

The car moved again.

“I eliminate doubt.”

That should have scared me.

Instead, my pulse quickened.

“You don’t own me,” I whispered.

Silence.

When we reached the penthouse, he stepped out first, walking ahead of me.

For the first time since I met him, he looked… angry.

Controlled.

But angry.

Inside, he loosened his tie sharply.

“You want coffee with him?” he asked without looking at me.

“That’s not the point.”

“Answer me.”

“Maybe.”

The word slipped out before I could stop it.

Big mistake.

He turned.

Fast.

Two steps and he was in front of me.

Not touching.

Just towering.

“You’re testing me,” he said quietly.

“No. I’m setting boundaries.”

“Boundaries?” A humorless laugh left him. “You signed a contract.”

“Yes. A business contract. Not ownership papers.”

His eyes burned into mine.

“I don’t need paper to claim what I want.”

The intensity in his voice made my stomach flip.

“Then what do you need?” I challenged softly.

He stepped closer.

Close enough that I could feel his warmth.

“Your choice.”

The answer stunned me.

“What?”

“You think I don’t know I can’t force you?” he continued, voice lower now. “If you wanted to walk away… you’d find a way.”

“Would I?”

His gaze sharpened.

“If you choose him,” he said carefully, “I won’t stop you.”

That was new.

That was different.

“But understand this,” he added.

His hand lifted slowly, brushing lightly against my jaw.

“If you stay… I won’t hold back.”

My breath hitched.

“Hold back from what?”

“From wanting you.”

The words settled between us.

Heavy.

Real.

This wasn’t about control anymore.

It was something deeper.

Darker.

“You’re jealous,” I whispered.

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

No pride swallowed.

Just truth.

And somehow that truth made my chest tighten.

“I don’t like sharing attention,” he admitted.

“You don’t share anything.”

“That’s correct.”

Silence stretched between us again.

Not angry now.

Charged.

I searched his face.

For cracks.

For weakness.

And for the first time… I saw it.

Fear.

Not of Ethan.

But of losing.

“You really think I’d just leave?” I asked quietly.

His jaw tightened slightly.

“I don’t assume.”

That was the closest he’d ever come to admitting vulnerability.

I stepped back slightly.

Giving us space.

“I need air,” I murmured.

He nodded once.

“Take it.”

No argument.

No command.

Just permission.

As I walked toward the balcony, I felt his eyes on me.

Not controlling.

Watching.

Waiting.

And for the first time since signing that contract, I realized something dangerous.

He wasn’t trying to cage me.

He was trying to win me.

And the worst part?

I wasn’t sure who was winning anymore.