Chapter 3

Three days later, the Hamilton Corporation charity gala arrived.

I hadn't planned on going, but Mason's assistant showed up at my hotel four hours early and waited by the entrance with a stylist and a custom evening gown.

"Ms. Sanders, tonight means a great deal to Mr. Hamilton," he said politely, though his tone left no room for argument. "He hopes you'll consider the bigger picture."

I looked at the dress and remembered the fitting before Valentine's Day, when Mason had stood beside me and said, "Paige, this one's made for you. You don't need to envy anyone."

I put it on anyway and took the car to the venue.

By the time we pulled up, cameras lined both sides of the red carpet. Mason was waiting at the end in a black suit, looking as handsome as ever.

The moment I stepped out, he crossed to me and slipped an arm around my waist.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said before leaning closer. "Just get through this with me. As long as you're beside me, you're Mrs. Hamilton."

I didn't answer. I let him lead me inside.

The room shifted the second we entered, a ripple of attention moving through the crowd.

When I followed it, I saw Stella standing by the champagne tower with a glass of juice in her hand, wearing the same dress, but the cut at the waist of hers had been softened to make her look more delicate.

When she lifted a hand to adjust her hair, the ring on her finger caught the chandelier light and flashed.

Whispers started almost immediately.

"Are they wearing the same dress?"

"Isn't that Ms. Wallace? That ring looks like a wedding band."

"So who did Mr. Hamilton actually marry?"

Reporters moved in around her.

"Ms. Wallace, is the matching dress a coincidence?"

"Everyone's noticed the ring. Should we be expecting an announcement?"

Stella took a small step back, as if startled, and glanced toward Mason.

Then she turned to the microphones, speaking with a soft voice, "Please don't misunderstand. Mason and I have been legally married for a while. The wedding was just something Paige wanted, so he made it happen for her."

The room broke into noise, and every camera swung toward us at once. The flashes were sharp enough to sting.

"Mr. Hamilton, is that true?"

"The records show Ms. Wallace as your legal spouse. Then what is Ms. Sanders?"

"Ms. Sanders, were you deceived, or did you know exactly what you were doing?"

Microphones crowded in close. The press surged forward, and someone shoved me from behind.

Before I could hit the ground, Mason pulled me into his arms, one hand instinctively settling protectively against my stomach. His face hardened as he looked around at the reporters.

"Back up!"

The reporters gave a little ground, though the cameras didn't stop.

"Mr. Hamilton, care to comment?"

I turned to Mason. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable.

I waited for him to speak, for him to tell everyone that this was all a misunderstanding, that I wasn't the other woman.

Instead, his hand pressed a little more firmly where it rested against me.

"I'm sure everyone here already knows who my real wife is," he said, looking straight at the cameras, his tone steady. "Tonight's charity gala should be about the less fortunate, not my personal life."

It didn't satisfy anyone. The questions keep coming, faster and sharper.

Stella walked over with reddened eyes and took her place on his other side.

"Please don't push Mason," she said softly. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have said anything."

Mason reached out to steady her, half drawing her behind him.

"Don't worry. I'm here."

Then he looked back at me, a faint crease between his brows as he spoke with a firm voice, "Paige, stand your ground. I've got this."