CHAPTER 4 - HARPER’S POV

The following day, I stayed in bed. Didn't go into the office, didn't move from under my blankets. I just slept until my body physically couldn't produce any more dreams. When I finally dragged myself out of bed and got ready for this ridiculous "husband audition," I planted myself in front of the mirror and really went all out.

Perfect skin. Smoky, dramatic eyes. Bold red lips. My natural hair flowing loose, catching the light and practically glowing like flames. When I angled my head just right, I caught myself thinking, 'Damn. If he saw me looking like this, the man would probably drop to one knee and propose on the spot.'

Then reality hit me like ice water.

No. This was way too easy.

I wasn't trying to win anyone over here. I was here to test him. Evaluate whether he was even worth my time, my secrets, my actual self. And honestly... wouldn't it be entertaining to watch him completely underestimate me?

I grinned at my reflection, grabbed a makeup remover wipe, and systematically destroyed the masterpiece I'd just created. Off came the lipstick, the shimmer, the smoky eyeshadow. On went the prosthetic mole, the oversized glasses, and my reliable disguise wig, the one that made me look like an awkward librarian with zero social skills. I swapped my outfit for something completely shapeless and boring that screamed "please don't look at me."

Perfect.

When I finally emerged from my room, Mom's face looked like I'd just told her I was dropping out of life entirely.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" she groaned, genuinely distressed. "I specifically told you I was arranging for a makeup artist and stylist to come over. You promised you'd let me help you look stunning. Now you look... exactly the same as always."

I flashed her my sweetest, most innocent smile. "Come on, Mom. I wanted to impress you, remember? But you're always saying... true beauty comes from within, right? If this guy actually likes me for who I am, that's amazing. If he doesn't, well, then we know he's only interested in surface-level stuff."

She sighed deeply, mumbling something about me "completely missing the point" while still managing to look like I'd personally offended the entire concept of dating.

The car ride to Veronica's house was silent until we pulled up to the driveway. Right as we arrived, Dad called. Mom answered and handed me my mission.

"Head inside, sweetheart. I need to talk to your father for a minute. I'll be right behind you."

Fine. Let's just get this disaster over with.

A housekeeper led me into the living room. It sat empty... for approximately five seconds. Then I heard footsteps approaching.

And there he was.

The universe apparently had a twisted sense of humor. Standing in the doorway was none other than Mr. Arrogant himself. Mr. I'm-So-Attractive-Everyone-Wants-Me. Mr. I-Would-Pay-a-Billion-Dollars-to-Meet-Scarlet-Rose-But-Also-Insult-Random-Women-To-Their-Face.

Out of every single man in this entire city, my mother had somehow chosen this one.

His expression lit up like I'd just walked in wearing a sign that said "Please Mock Me."

"You? What are you doing here? Who gave you permission to enter?" He moved closer, his voice absolutely dripping with contempt. "I can't believe you actually followed me to my own house. What's your plan here? Try to trap me? Blackmail me? I already told you yesterday, you're not attractive..."