Marrying the Hired Suitor

I looked at the message from the wedding company, hesitating over whether I should really change my groom.

Just then, Simon Page returned, dragging his suitcase behind him.

As soon as he opened the door, he stood in the living room and shouted impatiently, "I'm starving! Rosalyn, get out here and make me something to eat!"

His voice was especially grating.

I frowned, quickly turned off my phone, and hurried to the kitchen to cook him a plate of pasta.

But when I placed the plate in front of him, he didn’t touch it.

Instead, his gaze lingered on my face, scrutinizing me.

"Did you meet anyone new while I was away?"

My heart clenched at his words, and I immediately recalled what he said in the private room at the bar.

A tightness formed in my heart, making it hard to breathe.

I knew exactly who he was referring to—Hector Ford, the man he hired to pretend to pursue me.

The same man who might soon become my groom.

Hiding my emotions, I met his gaze directly and said, "No."

A flicker of doubt flashed through Simon’s eyes.

He studied me for a moment before muttering under his breath, "Did that guy take the money and not do the job?"

"Hmm? What did you say?"

Simon quickly changed the subject in a panic. "Nothing. This is really good."

He finished the pasta in a hurry, wiped his mouth, and then casually ordered, "Make some seafood bisque. I’ll take it with me for later tonight."

When I remained seated and didn’t move, he frowned, opened his suitcase, and tossed a small blue velvet jewelry box onto the table in front of me.

"Here, I got you a gift while I was away. This thing is expensive, so don’t lose it. Now you can go make the seafood bisque, right?"

I opened the box and saw a pair of delicate diamond stud earrings, no bigger than a pinhead.

Before I could even close the lid, Simon had already lost patience.

He yanked me up from the chair and shoved me toward the kitchen.

"Hurry up, I still have things to take care of later.

"If the other party loses patience and decides not to sign the contract, the company’s losses won’t be something you can afford."

Ever since his company had stabilized, Simon kept using words like these to intimidate me.

As I watched the prawns simmering in the bubbling broth, a bitter feeling welled up inside me.

A man who had been allergic to seafood since childhood was now willingly requesting seafood bisque.

What a joke.

When I handed him the insulated container filled with bisque, he scoffed, "Why did it take so long?"

Then, without another word, he swung the door open and left without looking back.

I glanced down at my scalded wrist and let out a bitter smile.

Just as I was about to find the first-aid kit, my eyes landed on a receipt lying on top of his open suitcase.

It was for a four-hundred-thousand-dollar diamond necklace.

The receipt clearly stated that the earrings I received were a complimentary gift.

Staring at the receipt, I slowly clenched my fingers, the bitterness in my heart growing stronger—so strong that I could no longer feel the sting on my wrist.

Hoping to distract myself, I opened my phone and scrolled through my feed, only to stumble upon a new post from Yara Watson, added through a mutual friend.

She held a porcelain bowl of seafood bisque in one hand, smiling radiantly at the camera.

The diamond necklace around her neck was especially eye-catching.

Her caption read: "Food from the one you love tastes better than any delicacy!"

I lifted my head, my gaze falling on the engagement photo hanging in the living room.

Tears streamed down my face.

"Simon Page, being by your side is nothing but pure misery."