Chapter 2 He Lied About Chicago

"I'm at the St. Regis, honey. Just checked in twenty minutes ago," Zachary’s voice came through the speaker. He sounded calm and perfectly natural.

Before I could ask anything, the call switched to video. Zachary’s face filled the screen. He looked as handsome as ever—sharp jawline, warm brown eyes, and that slight smile that always made my heart race. But it was the background that made me stop breathing.

He wasn’t at the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan like the news broadcast had shown. He was in a luxury room with classic mahogany wood, elegant gold lighting, and a thick navy-gold carpet. Behind him, a white bathrobe with gold embroidery lay on the king-size bed: The St. Regis Chicago.

He wore the same white shirt he’d left in, just without the tie and with the top two buttons open. His dark brown hair was slightly messy from the trip, which only made him look better.

“See? My secretary picked a room with a view of the Chicago River,” Zachary said, panning the camera toward the glittering skyline. He smiled. “Just like the room we had two years ago, right?”

He walked over to the vanity, took a sip of water, and leaned against the table. He looked at me with an intensity that felt like he could see right through the screen.

“The flight from JFK was a bit turbulent, Rhea, but my assistant picked me up at O’Hare immediately,” he said smoothly. “Tomorrow at eight, I’m at the local TV station for the acquisition, then lunch with the commissioners in the Loop. It’s a packed schedule.”

My head started to throb. My logic was failing. I wondered if the man in the grey suit on the live broadcast was just a lookalike, or if the lighting in that lounge had played tricks on my eyes.

"Rhea? Your neck looks tense. Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asked, his eyes filling with genuine concern. He frowned slightly. "You sound strange. And why are you still in your nightgown? Is Zoe still awake?"

A wave of guilt hit me. I felt stupid for doubting him. This was the man who helped me build Pandora Media Group from nothing. This was the man who cried when he cut Zoe’s umbilical cord six years ago.

"Zoe fell asleep ten minutes ago," I whispered, trying to stop my lips from trembling.

Zachary smirked. His voice dropped an octave, becoming deep and husky. "Good..." he whispered, leaning closer to the camera. "Because honestly, Rhea... seeing you in that cream silk nightgown makes me want to book a private jet back to the Upper East Side tonight."

My face flushed. He always knew exactly what to say.

"Zach, you just arrived..." I whispered, clutching my cashmere cardigan.

"And I miss you terribly," he interrupted. He leaned back against the bed and set the phone on the nightstand, leaving his broad chest visible through the open shirt. He slowly undid another button, his eyes locked on mine.

"Show me, Rhea," he commanded softly. "Take off the cardigan. Let me see my wife."

Hypnotized by his voice, I obeyed. I slid off the cardigan, leaving me in the low-cut silk gown under the dim living room lights.

Zachary let out a low groan of satisfaction. "God, Rhea... you're so beautiful it drives me fucking crazy."

He traced his own chest as if he were touching my skin. He began to whisper intimate, heat-filled words, guiding my movements through the screen.

Finally, Zachary chuckled and wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead. He adjusted the phone, his expression returning to that of a loving husband.

"Give Zoe a kiss for me tomorrow morning, okay, sweetheart?" he whispered, touching his fingertips to the screen as if caressing my warm cheek. "And wait for me to come home on Sunday. I’ve got a big surprise in store for you."

I offered a faint smile, feeling deeply guilty about my earlier suspicions. "All right. Good night, Zach. I love you."

Zachary gazed intently at me, flashing his sweetest smile, before whispering one last thing just as the video call cut off:

"Sleep well, Rhea. You know I'd never lie to you."

The screen went dark. For a few seconds, I stared at my own reflection.

Then, finally, I let out a breath.

Maybe I was mistaken.

Maybe the man in the livestream hadn't been Zachary after all.

I wouldn't misjudge my husband. Would I?

After ten years together, I knew Zachary better than anyone