Chapter 3: Cracks in the Foundation

Evans' POV

Hailey burst into my office like a storm.

I was in the middle of a video call with investors in Tokyo, but one look at her face told me this couldn't wait.

"Gentlemen, I'll call you back," I said, ending the call.

"What happened?" I asked as soon as the screen went dark.

"Chloe." Hailey crossed her arms. "Tell me the truth. Did you sleep with her?"

The question hit me like a punch to the gut.

"What?"

"Did you sleep with her." Hailey's voice was shaking. "Because she just told me you two have been 'working very closely' for three years. She made it pretty damn clear what that meant."

I stood up and walked around my desk. "Hailey, I didn't—"

"Don't lie to me, Evans. I'm your wife now, Fake or not, I deserve the truth."

"I never slept with Chloe," I said firmly. "She's my employee. That's it."

"Then why did she say that?"

"Because she's trying to get under your skin." I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "Look, Chloe had a crush on me when she first started working here. I made it clear nothing would happen. She backed off or at least I thought she did."

"She kissed you, didn't she?"

I froze. How did she—

"I can see it on your face," Hailey said quietly. "When did it happen?"

"Last month." I couldn't lie to her. "She came to my office late one night and said she wanted to discuss a project. Then she just... kissed me. I pushed her away immediately and told her it was inappropriate. She apologized and said it wouldn't happen again."

"And you didn't think to mention this before we got married?"

"We weren't planning to get married!" I snapped, then immediately regretted my tone. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes, you did." Hailey's eyes were shining with tears. "This is exactly what you meant we weren't supposed to get married. I was just the backup plan."

"Hailey_"

"I'm going home." She turned toward the door.

I grabbed her wrist. "Wait. Please."

She stopped but didn't turn around.

"You're right," I said. "This isn't how things were supposed to go but we're here now and I need you to trust me. I swear, nothing happened with Chloe. Nothing will ever happen with her. She's just bitter because I rejected her."

"Then fire her."

"What?"

Hailey finally looked at me. "If she's such a problem, fire her. Unless..." She paused. "Unless you don't want to."

"It's not that simple. She's one of our best designers. The spring collection is her project. If I fire her now, we'll lose months of work."

"So your business is more important than your wife's feelings?"

The word "wife" sounded strange coming from her. But also... right.

"That's not fair," I said.

"None of this is fair, Evans." She pulled her wrist free. "I gave up everything for you. My freedom, my choices and my dream of marrying someone who actually loves me. The least you can do is make sure I don't have to work with the woman who wants to replace me."

She left before I could respond.

I stood there in my empty office, feeling like the biggest asshole in Paris.

She was right. This wasn't fair, none of it was.

I grabbed my phone and dialed my assistant.

"Yes, Mr. Wilson?"

"Transfer Chloe Bennett to the Milan office," I said. "Effective immediately."

"Sir, the spring collection—"

"I don't care. Get it done."

I hung up and stared out the window at the city below.

Hailey deserved better than this better than a fake marriage to a man who couldn't give her what she needed.

But I was too selfish to let her go.

I went looking for Hailey an hour later. Her office was empty. I called her phone but no answer.

Panic crept up my spine. Where was she?

I tried her cell phone again. Still nothing.

Finally, I called my driver. "Did Mrs. Wilson leave the building?"

"Yes, sir. About an hour ago. She took a cab."

A cab, she didn't even use the car I have provided for her.

I grabbed my keys and headed for the elevator. If she went home to the estate, I'd find her there. We needed to talk, really talk.

But when I got home, the place was empty.

"Mrs. Wilson hasn't returned, sir," one of the staff told me.

My chest tightened. Where the hell was she?

I called her again. This time, she picked up.

"What?" Her voice was cold.

"Where are you?"

"Out."

"Hailey, this isn't funny. Where are you?"

"I'm at a bar, Evans,having a drink is that allowed, or do you need to approve that too?"

"Which bar?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it matters! You're upset, you're alone, and—"

"I'm a grown woman. I can handle myself."

"Send me your location. Now."

She hung up.

I wanted to throw my phone across the room. Instead, I opened the tracking app I'd installed on both our phones after the wedding. For safety, I'd told her, she'd agreed.

The GPS showed her at Le Rouge, a popular bar in the city center.

I grabbed my keys and drove there faster than I should have.

Le Rouge was packed.

Music pulsed through the space. Bodies moved on the dance floor. The smell of alcohol and perfume was overwhelming.

I scanned the crowd, looking for Hailey's dark hair. Finally, I spotted her at the bar, alone, nursing a bright pink cocktail.

I pushed through the crowd toward her.

"Hailey."

She looked up, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking you home."

"I'm not ready to leave."

"Too bad." I pulled out my wallet to pay her tab.

"Don't." She grabbed my wrist. "I can pay for my own drinks, thank you very much."

"I know you can. But we're leaving. Now."

"You're not my boss, Evans."

"No, I'm your husband."

The word hung between us. Heavy and complicated.

"Some husband," she muttered. "Can't even protect me from his secretary."

"Ex-secretary," I corrected. "I transferred Chloe to Milan. She's leaving next week."

Hailey's eyes widened. "You... you did?"

"You asked me to. So I did."

She stared at me like she was seeing me for the first time.

Then someone bumped into her from behind. She stumbled forward, and I caught her.

"Careful," I said, steadying her.

"I'm fine," she insisted, but she didn't pull away.

We stood there in the middle of the crowded bar, her hands on my chest, my arms around her waist.

For a second, it felt real. Like we were actually a couple. Like she actually wanted me.

Then someone crashed into us again, breaking the moment.

"Let's go," I said quietly.

This time, she didn't argue.

We didn't talk on the drive home.

Hailey stared out the window, her arms crossed. I kept glancing at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking.

When we got to the estate, she got out of the car without waiting for me.

I followed her inside and up the stairs.

"Hailey, wait."

She stopped at her bedroom door. "What?"

"I'm sorry for everything, for the wedding, for Chloe and for all of this."

"Are you sorry you married me?" she asked quietly.

The question caught me off guard.

Was I sorry?

I should be. This marriage was a disaster, a business arrangement that trapped both of us.

But when I looked at her, really looked at her, I couldn't say yes.

"No," I said honestly. "I'm not sorry I married you."

"Why not?"

Because I've been in love with you since we were sixteen, and I'm too much of a coward to tell you.

But I couldn't say that, not now and not when everything was already so complicated.

"Because you're my best friend," I said instead. "And I'd rather be married to you than anyone else."

It wasn't the whole truth. But it was enough.

She smiled sadly. "Best friends who sleep in separate rooms and pretend to be in love."

"It doesn't have to be like that."

"What do you mean?"

I stepped closer. "We could try. To make this real."

Her breath caught. "Evans—"

"I'm not saying it'll be easy. But we could try. Get to know each other as husband and wife, not just friends. See what happens."

"And if it doesn't work?"

"Then at least we tried."

She studied my face, looking for something. Truth, maybe. Or sincerity.

Finally, she nodded. "Okay. We'll try."

Relief flooded through me.

"But Evans?" She put her hand on my chest. "No more secrets. If we're doing this, we do it honestly."

"Deal."

She smiled, a real smile this time and disappeared into her room.

I stood in the hallway, my heart pounding.

I'd just promised to make this marriage real. To let her in.

The problem was, I had secrets big ones.

And if she ever found out the truth about why I really married her, she'd never forgive me.