Mag-log inNathaniel's POV"You look like a man who didn't sleep," my grandmother said, pouring tea into two cups in her study the next morning, entirely unbothered by the photo already spreading across three gossip sites."I didn't.""Good. It means you're finally taking this seriously." Eleanor set the teapot down and studied me the way she used to when I was a boy who'd broken something and hadn't yet admitted it. "Vanessa called me last night as well. Did you know that.""No.""She wanted me to confirm, on the record, that I forced this marriage without either of your consent. She seems to believe that story will end things cleanly for you and Emily." Eleanor's mouth thinned. "I told her the truth instead, which is that I offered an opportunity, not a command, and that both of you said yes with your eyes open. She did not appreciate the correction.""You could have simply not answered at all.""I could have. I've found, over eighty one years, that silence in the face of an accusation is usua
Nathaniel's POV"Delete it," I said, low enough that only Vanessa could hear me, though every instinct in me wanted to shout it across the entire terrace."Delete what, exactly. A photo of a couple having a conversation at a party. There's nothing scandalous about that, Nathaniel." Vanessa's smile was pure satisfaction. "Unless, of course, someone happens to leak the timeline alongside it. Married three weeks. First real fight already caught on camera. People will draw their own conclusions.""You want to hurt me. Fine. You've wanted that for three years and I understand why. But she has nothing to do with what happened between us.""She married into it the moment she signed that certificate," Vanessa said, and for the first time her voice lost its careful lightness, something rawer underneath. "You think I don't know what your grandmother's will really is. A cage dressed up as an inheritance. I loved you before that ca
Emily's POV"You look like a woman who just heard something she can't unhear," Vanessa said, appearing at my elbow at the charity gala like she'd been waiting for the exact moment Nathaniel stepped away to take a call."I look like a woman who's tired of you assuming she owes you a conversation.""Fair enough." Vanessa took a slow sip of champagne, studying me over the rim of the glass. "I'll make this quick then. Did he tell you why the loan to your father was so much larger than a simple bakery renovation should have cost."My stomach tightened, but I kept my face still. "He's telling me everything, in his own time.""Is he. Or is he managing what you learn, the same way he manages everything else." Vanessa smiled, small and sharp. "Ask him about the fire, Emily. The one at the original bakery location, before your mother rebuilt on Fifth. Ask him who really owned that building.""You say that like you expect
Emily's POV"Say it again," I told Chloe, "because I want to make sure I heard that correctly.""I said you're in love with him." Chloe didn't even look up from the dough she was kneading, like she was commenting on the weather instead of detonating a small bomb in the middle of my Tuesday shift. "The billionaire. Your husband. Nathaniel.""I am contractually married to him. That is a completely different thing.""Is it, though. Because you've mentioned him four times in the last hour, and not once did you complain. You complained about the chef, the marble kitchen, the doorman who won't remember your name. You have never once complained about Nathaniel.""That doesn't mean anything.""Emily." Chloe finally looked up, flour on her cheek, eyebrows raised in the exact expression she'd been giving me since we were fourteen and I insisted I did not have a crush on the boy who kept "accidentally" sitting next to me at lunc
Emily's POV"You're looking for the good scissors," Nathaniel said, appearing in the doorway of what I'd assumed was an unused hall closet, "in the one room I asked you not to go into.""You didn't ask. There was no note, no sign, nothing. I was looking for wrapping paper for Chloe's birthday and found a box marked keep instead.""Emily.""I didn't open it," I said, which was almost entirely true. "I saw the top layer. That's all."His jaw tightened in the way I was learning meant he was choosing his next words carefully. "The top layer would be the invitations.""Wedding invitations," I said quietly. "With your name on them. And hers.""I should have moved that box before you ever set foot in this apartment.""Or you could have just told me it existed. I'm not going to break, Nathaniel. I've read the same tabloid articles everyone else has.""There's a difference between reading about it and standing three feet from the actual proof.""Try me," I said. "I'd rather know the real versi
Emily's POV"You rearranged my kitchen," Nathaniel said, standing in the doorway of the marble showroom I had officially claimed as mine three days into this marriage."I organized your kitchen. There's a difference.""I could not find the coffee this morning.""It's in the jar labeled coffee, Nathaniel. Right where I put it.""It used to be in the cabinet on the left.""It used to be in a cabinet you never opened, next to a chef who only shows up twice a week. Forgive me for putting things where a person who actually cooks might find them."He stared at the jar like it had personally wronged him, and something about his genuine confusion, a man who apparently commanded boardrooms but could not locate his own coffee, cracked something loose in me that had been tightly wound since the dinner with Vanessa."Sit down," I said, pulling out a stool. "I'll make you a cup. Since apparently that's a skill gap in this household."He sat, cautiously, the way a man sits in a room he technically







