Chapter 10: The Illusion of harmony

The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the Knights estate, casting sharp lines of light across the immaculate marble floors. Everything gleamed polished, pristine, untouched. But beneath that beauty was a sterile coldness. The kind that didn’t welcome warmth, only reflected it.

Luna stood in front of the full-length mirror in the guest room, slipping on a soft cream blouse that hugged her frame just enough to be elegant without inviting attention. Navy trousers followed tailored, commanding. She pinned her hair into a sleek twist and dabbed a trace of her perfume jasmine laced with citrus.

Clean. Controlled. Non-invasive. Yet unforgettable.

Today wasn’t about being a wife.

It was about being seen as one.

A knock sounded sharp, deliberate.

She didn’t flinch. “Come in.”

George stepped inside, already dressed in a steel-gray suit that cut across his frame like armor. His tie was perfect. His expression, unreadable. But his eyes paused on her longer than necessary—too quick to be called polite, too slow to be called indifferent.

There was always something about the way he looked at her. As though he couldn’t decide whether she was a puzzle to solve or a threat to contain.

“We have brunch with the board in an hour,” he said.

“I’m aware,” she replied coolly, meeting his gaze through the mirror.

“Would you prefer to arrive separately?”

Her lips curled into the faintest smile. “Would you prefer that?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he folded his arms and asked, “What exactly did your agency plan to say about the fact that I didn’t divorce my wife... and yet married another?”

His voice was tight, laced with frustration and something else. Uncertainty. It crawled through his words like a crack in armor.

Luna paused mid-motion. That question again. He still believed she had the answers to every problem this farce of a marriage had created. It almost amused her. For all his wealth and power, George Knights still expected order from chaos.

“I’m just here to work, George. I believe that was always the arrangement,” she replied calmly, adjusting her collar with delicate precision. “What happens beyond that? That’s your territory.”

His brows drew together. “What do you mean it’s up to me now?”

“I mean,” she said with feigned patience, “you have advisors, lawyers, damage control teams. Use them. Please.”

“You think this is funny?”

“No,” she said softly, eyes locking with his. “I think this is messy. And unlike you... I don’t pretend it’s not.”

His silence stretched just a second too long brimming with the kind of confusion he despised in himself. This situation was unraveling faster than he could grip.

“So what now?” she asked, voice mild. “Should I go alone then?”

“No,” he said sharply. “We go together. Appearances, remember?”

She nodded once, composed. Then turned to face him fully. “Then let’s go.”

Her tone was final. Not dismissive, but immovable. George didn’t argue further. He simply turned and walked ahead, expecting her to follow. She did but at her own pace. Not behind him never behind but not beside him either.

The distance between them was invisible, but it was there. It always has been.

They stepped out of the mansion together to meet Nathan already waiting outside the mansion for them.

The car ride was steeped in silence.

Nathan, ever the dutiful driver and personal assistant, kept his eyes on the road, but even he could feel the storm brewing in the backseat. The tension had shape and weight. It pressed into the air, into the corners of the car, into the tightness of George’s jaw and the serenity of Luna’s hands folded in her lap.

They sat beside each other, yet worlds apart.

George stared out the window, jaw clenched. Luna, on the other hand, closed her eyes briefly, letting her breath move in and out like a soft tide. Controlled. Calm. She didn’t need to fill the silence with noise. That was his habit, not hers.

Outside, the city pulsed horns blaring, engines revving, streets alive with noise and movement. Inside the car, time stretched.

“Did you rehearse that speech?” George asked suddenly, voice low but charged.

Luna opened her eyes. “What speech?”

“At brunch. The one about clarity and purpose.”

She let a soft smile ghost across her lips. “No. I just know what people like to hear.”

He didn’t reply.

But she saw the way his fingers curled tighter into a fist on his thigh.

About thirty five minutes into the drive, they got to their destination.

The Elysian Hotel’s rooftop gleamed beneath the soft haze of the midday sun. Towering glass windows offered sweeping views of Manhattan’s skyline power, wealth, ambition in every line of steel and glass.

The board members of Hayes Corporation were already gathered, suits crisp, watches expensive, conversations peppered with ambition and false charm.

“George! Congratulations,” boomed Mr. Langston, the senior board chair, rising from his seat with a gleaming smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

The air was thick with unspoken questions and performative politeness.

Everyone knew.

Everyone had heard the whispers: The great George Hayes is married... to two women? Of course, they said nothing. Not directly. This was a room of professionals who killed reputations with compliments.

George shook Langston’s hand firmly. “Thank you. I appreciate you arranging this.”

The man’s grin sharpened. “We’re all very interested to meet the woman who’s brought such… headlines.”

Luna stepped forward, hand extended. “Luna Hayes.”

Her voice was clear, confident. Her handshake, firm. Her smile, unreadable.

Langston blinked once, caught slightly off guard. “Ms. Hayes, welcome. You’re... not what I expected.”

“I get that a lot,” she replied.

Eyes flicked between them. Observing. Calculating.

“She’s stunning,” murmured a female board member behind a champagne flute. “And composed. Very composed.”

George heard it. Luna did too.

But unlike George, she didn’t let it affect her mask. She had been trained for this, raised in a world where silence was a weapon and presence was power. And today, she wielded both.

“Please this way" Mr Langston directed heading to the arranged decorated room for the brunch.

Silver cutlery clinked softly. Waiters moved like shadows. Toasts were made. Laughter floated over champagne.

George was quiet, offering polite nods, a few clipped comments. He watched Luna more than he participated, eyes trailing her every move like a man trying to read a foreign language he should’ve known by now.

Luna, on the other hand, moved effortlessly.

She asked the right questions. Listened more than she spoke. And when she did speak, she commanded attention.

When one board member raised a glass and said with a smirk, “George, you always surprise us. This time, I’d say you married up,” there was a beat of silence.

George’s mouth tightened into a forced smile.

Luna didn’t miss a beat.

She lifted her glass, voice smooth. “George and I believe in clarity and purpose. This partnership reflects that.”

Her words landed with precision. Not too bold, not too submissive. Just enough to suggest unity and just enough to leave the details vague.

The board murmured approval.

Langston chuckled. “Well said.”

George said nothing. But Luna saw his grip on the wine glass tighten until his knuckles turned white.

He hated not being the one in control of the room.

He hated that she had done it so effortlessly.

The conversation went on and on until the whole meeting was called a day and George had to leave with his supposed wife.

The elevator doors closed with a soft hiss.

“What the hell was that?” George snapped the moment they were alone.

Luna didn’t look at him. “That was strategy. You should thank me.”

“You sounded like a goddamn CEO.”

“I was keeping up with yours.”

He stepped closer, anger barely veiled. “You made me look like the subordinate in front of my board.”

She finally turned, expression cool and cutting. “If your board is that easily impressed by grace and a few well-chosen words, then maybe your authority is more fragile than you thought.”

He stared at her, breathing hard.

The elevator dinged. Doors slid open.

This time, she stepped out first, heels clicking confidently across the marble floor.

They headed back to the car and just as usual Nathan was waiting for them, ignoring the stares of the employees that was threatening to piece a hole in Luna’s heart she walked gracefully untill she got into the car and closed the side of her car door as George did same and Nathan sped off immediately heading back to their mansion.

Silence returned with them. But it wasn’t the same kind of silence. It was denser. It carried echoes.

George poured himself another drink, his third that day. Bourbon, neat. It burned, but not enough.

He stood at the tall windows of his study, watching the gardens below. Luna was walking slowly along the hedge, her fingers trailing the trimmed edge. The late sunlight cast golden shadows around her, turning her into something almost untouchable.

She looked at peace.

He hated it.

She hadn’t yelled, hadn’t demanded anything, not even space.

But she had claimed it anyway.

He had invited her into his home, into his life, into a marriage he believed he could control. Yet here she was untouchable, unreadable, and maddeningly calm.

She didn’t need him.

And that terrified him more than anything else.l because he couldn't read what was going on in her mind.

Luna went straight to the master's bedroom and changed into something sexy but comfortable took a glass of whiskey and headed to the garden not concerned what or where George was

Luna paused at the fountain, letting the mist kiss her skin. Her eyes closed for a moment.

She wasn’t made of stone.

She felt his eyes from that window. Felt the tension in every room they occupied together. But she had learned long ago that the most dangerous game wasn’t played with power, it was played with silence. With patience.

She would win this war without raising her voice.

She would win by surviving it—elegantly, thoroughly, and untouched.

Even if it killed him, after this was what she has been trained into.