Chapter 12: Jealousy and Accusations

Rayna's POV

Denzel left before sunrise the next morning.

I didn't see him go. Didn't get to say goodbye or thank you or explain. He was just... gone.

And I was left alone in the mansion with Susana's knowing smirks and my own guilt.

"Trouble in paradise?" Susana asked at breakfast, noting my red eyes.

He of your business."

"Of course not. Though I did hear raised voices from Denzel's study last night. Something about money? I thought as a contract wife you are supposed to have money in your account?"

I ignored her and left for work.

The foundation became my refuge. I threw myself into the showcase planning, working longer hours than necessary, staying late to avoid going home to that empty house.

"Everything okay?" Danielle asked one afternoon, noting my exhausted expression.

"Fine. Just... personal stuff."

"Husband troubles?"

I laughed bitterly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Marriage is hard. Especially when both people are stubborn." She squeezed my hand. "But Rayna? Don't lose yourself in someone else's issues. You're too talented for that."

Her words stayed with me.

When Denzel came back after a week, everything was different.

He was colder. More distant. And he started coming home earlier than usual, always when he knew I'd be back from my "errands."

He'd watch me with suspicious eyes.

Two weeks after the fight, I had with him about Oliver.

I'd had a particularly long day at the foundation…the showcase was one week away and we were behind schedule. I came home at 8 PM, exhausted but fulfilled.

Denzel was waiting in the foyer.

"We need to talk," he said.

"Can it wait? I'm really tired."

"No."

Something in his tone made my stomach drop. I followed him to his study.

"Where were you?" he demanded the moment the door closed.

"Out. Running errands."

"For eight hours?"

"It was a long day."

"Doing what?"

"Personal things."

"Amelia, I'm going to ask you one more time. Where were you?"

The intensity in his voice startled me. "Why does it matter?"

"It matters because you're my wife!"

"In name only!"

"Is that what you tell him?" The words exploded out of him.

I froze. "Tell who?"

"The man you're seeing. The one you'd rather spend time with than be here with me."

My breath caught. "You think I'm.."

"What else am I supposed to think?" His voice was raw now. "You leave every day looking professional. You come home exhausted but happy. Fulfilled. You smile at your phone. You practically glow. And meanwhile, you can barely stand to be in the same room as me."

"I'm not seeing anyone!"

"Then where do you go?"

"I can't tell you!"

"Why not?"

"Because you'll be so mad at me!"

"I'm already mad at you, don complicate the matter !" He slammed his hand on the desk. "I'm angry and I feel like I'm losing my mind! Do you have any idea what it's like? Watching you leave every day, wondering if you're in someone else's arms?"

"It's not like that.."

"Then what is it like? Explain it to me!"

"I have a job!" The words burst out. "I took the job with the Hamilton Foundation! That's where I've been going every day!"

He froze. "You've been working. This whole time."

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Since the week after the gala. Over a month."

"You've been lying to me for over a month." His voice was dangerously quiet now.

"I wasn't lying. I just... didn't tell you.

"That's the same thing!" He turned away, hands clenched. "After everything after I gave you thirty thousand dollars for your brother you're sneaking around behind my back, using the money I gave you to fund your secret life…"

"It has nothing to do with the money!"

"Doesn't it?" He spun back. "You needed cash. Came to me. Got what you wanted. And now you're off living this double life while I'm here wondering if my own wife is cheating on me!"

"Using you?" I couldn't believe this. "You think I'm using you?"

"What else am I supposed to think? You take my money, live in my house, wear my ring…but you can't even be honest about where you go during the day?”

"Because I knew you'd react like this!"

"This isn't about control!" His voice cracked. "This is about trust! About the fact that we're supposed to be married and you can't even tell me the truth!"

"We're not really married! This is a contract!"

“Yes I know this is a contract" He moved closer, his eyes searching mine. "Just business? But I need to know where my Contract wife goes to before social media start talking.

My heart hammered. "What are you saying?"

"I'm not saying that I care about you. But watching you pull away, thinking you were with someone else it was killing me. But clearly, I'm just the bank account. The problem solver. The convenient husband who pays for everything."

"That's not true!"

"That's what I thought you would say," he said. He walked to the door, opened it. "Get out. And next time you need money, ask your new employer."

I left, tears streaming down my face.

And spent the rest of the night wondering how everything had gotten so twisted.