Chapter 4

Fiona's POV:

Seeing my moody state, Rowan cleared his throat and apologized. "I'm sorry about the call, but you know I love Sage very much. I had to explain what our marriage is about. You don't have to get mad at me for it."

I nodded, though I wanted to yell at him and tell him I didn't want to hear about Sage. I pressed my lips together and looked away as Rowan started the car.

My stomach grumbled; I hadn't eaten. He drove away from the marriage bureau and navigated the road.

"Where are you taking me? I'm famished," I asked Rowan weakly, avoiding his gaze.

"Oh, right. We should stop at a nearby restaurant for breakfast. I also want to visit a jewelry store for our wedding rings so Grandpa won't think we're faking it to claim his wealth," Rowan said softly. His gaze fixed on the road as he steered toward the nearest restaurant in the city.

"But it's a fake marriage. We don't need rings," I said, rejecting the idea—especially after hearing how intimately he spoke with Sage.

Rowan drew a breath and gritted out, "Fiona, you agreed to marry me. You'll accept my ring. No need to argue."

I pressed my lips together and looked away as he pulled into the restaurant parking lot.

"Let's go in for breakfast. We have a lot to do today," Rowan said. I nodded and got out with him.

As we walked into the restaurant, I heard patrons gossiping.

"Oh my god! Isn't that Rowan Carson, the billionaire CEO of Carson Group? I heard he's with model Sage Andrews. How come he's here early with another woman? Is he cheating on her?"

Some young women glared at me. I lowered my head and followed Rowan, who led me to a table.

The table had four chairs; Rowan and I took two before the waitress approached.

"Welcome to our restaurant, ma'am, sir. What are your orders?"

Rowan looked at me. "What would you like to eat?"

I scanned the menu. "A plate of pasta is enough?"

"Will that be all, madam?" the waitress asked. I nodded, avoiding her face. She turned to Rowan. "And your order, Mr. Carson?"

It hadn't occurred to me how popular Rowan was. This was my first time at a restaurant with him; I assumed he'd been here with Sage, his true love.

"Anything she chooses," Rowan said, pointing at me. The waitress's eyes widened. She looked at me and replied, "On it."

When the meal arrived, Rowan and I ate. I kept my head down, avoiding his gaze. I felt his eyes on my body.

Why was Rowan staring like that? Did he regret marrying me? I wondered silently, not asking.

My phone rang in my bag on my lap.

"Excuse me, sir," I said. Rowan watched me like a hawk.

I pulled out my phone and checked the caller. I expected Mary Silas checking on the marriage, but I froze at my father's name on the screen.

Clearing my throat, I answered Dad's call.

"Fiona, where are you?" Dad asked, his voice cold.

"Dad, I went out with my boss today," I replied nervously. I'd secretly married without telling my parents.

"Fiona, didn't I tell you to meet Josh Edwards today? You're to marry Mr. Edwards's son. How could you forget our discussion from Monday?" Dad snapped. I froze.

"Dad." My cheeks flushed. Mr. Edwards was a busy man and Rowan's rival. We'd met once before he rushed to propose marriage to my parents.

How could Josh think I wanted to marry him? He flirted with many women, including me at the company.

"Fiona, come home now. Josh arrives at 2 p.m., and you need to go on a date with him to prepare for marriage. You're 22 and old enough. When I married your mother, she was 18," Dad said firmly.

"Dad, that was the old days. This is the twenty-first century. I can't marry a man I don't love," I replied coldly—lying to my father. I'd claimed I couldn't marry without love, yet I'd wed my boss for a two-year contract.

"Fiona, no negotiation. Come home quickly. I won't call again. Be here before 2 p.m. to welcome Edwards's son. Got it?" Dad demanded, leaving no room for argument.

I avoided my boss's face; Rowan's gaze crawled over my skin.

"Got it, Dad," I replied, annoyed. The mood at the table grew tense.

"Good. I'll call later," Dad said before hanging up.

As I set down my phone, it rang again. I answered, avoiding Rowan's gaze. His mood had turned the table gloomy, but I dodged his blue eyes.

"Hello, who is this?" I asked. An unknown number—my mind screamed Josh Edwards.

"Is this my future wife, Fiona Gabriel? I told you I'd marry you, didn't I?" Josh asked, amusement in his voice.

I dared not meet Rowan's gaze; he might snap and grab my phone.

My boss hadn't been annoyed with me in the six months I'd worked for him. Now, his mood iced over.

"Mr. Edwards, how did you get my contact?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral to show Rowan I hadn't given it to Josh.

"Your dad, of course. Ever since I saw you at Carson Group, I can't stop dreaming about you. You're in my dreams every night, and I keep thinking about the beautiful kids we'll have, Fiona. How much does Rowan pay you? From what I know of his company, it's only $200,000 a month. Quit that job. I'll pay you $1 million. Besides, as my wife, with your potential, Edwards Group will rise to the top global icon," Josh said, excitement bubbling. Cold sweat broke on my forehead.

Before I could respond, Rowan stood, snatched my phone, and startled me as he yelled, "Josh, Fiona will never marry you. She's my wife. Forget her working for you or marrying you. We're legally married. Don't call her again."

I stared at Rowan with wide eyes as he ended the call and blocked Josh's number.

My anger flared. Other patrons looked at us in shock; they'd heard Rowan declare me his wife publicly.

"Mr. Carson, why would you end my call like that? You promised to keep our marriage secret because you have a true love. What right do you have to interfere in my affairs?" I queried Rowan coldly. I couldn't believe his hypocrisy. He'd said I was his wife on paper only and shouldn't broadcast it—a trophy any woman would proudly post on social media. Yet he'd snatched my phone and rejected my potential suitor. Had I ever interfered with his relationship with Sage?