Chapter 2

“This is it. No turning back now.”

I took a deep breath as I stared at the house from a distance. The house where I’d be living with my soon-to-be husband.

My sister’s husband.

The house was too big for just two people. James said there were no house helpers, just me and Fabio. He told me there used to be, but my sister sent them away. I couldn’t understand why. Why would she do that?

I started to wonder if Normani ever felt isolated here. Poor thing.

James nodded at me as I stepped out of the car.

“Just remember everything I told you, Miss Normani,” he said firmly, emphasizing the name.

I inhaled deeply and nodded. “T-Thank you, James.”

He gave me one last look, then drove away. That was my signal. It was time to begin.

Last night, I went over the folder the Montoyas gave me. James helped too, filling in the small details about my sister and her marriage. He said things weren’t good between her and Fabio.

My jaw dropped the moment I stepped past the gate. The garden was massive, with a fountain off to the side and well-kept trees everywhere. Inside, the house looked even more stunning.

“So this is where Nani lives? Wow,” I whispered to myself.

I walked around to make use of the time I had and looked for the room we were supposed to share as husband and wife. I had been trying to train myself to say it, to think of Fabio that way. I needed to get used to it, and I was doing my best.

He wasn’t home yet. James said Fabio was a workaholic, practically living at the hospital. I found myself wondering how they even met.

I hadn’t realized I’d dozed off on the soft couch.

**

Fabio stood there, staring in surprise at the sight of his wife. His lying, manipulative wife.

She was asleep on the couch.

That was new. Since when did she stay home?

She wasn’t the type. She loved the nightlife, always out in clubs or high-end restaurants with her spoiled friends.

He walked closer, ready to wake her.

But he stopped when he saw how relaxed her face looked, her lips slightly parted in sleep.

He glanced at the clock. It was already eleven.

He looked back at her, eyes narrowing. Something about her face seemed off. Something didn’t feel right.

He shook his head and walked to the kitchen. It had already been a long day.

**

I woke up feeling hungry. My stomach was already growling. When I looked at the clock, I saw it was almost midnight.

Was Fabio home?

I rubbed the back of my neck, still half-asleep, and walked toward the kitchen to find something to eat. I hadn’t even realized I fell asleep, so I never got to cook. Hopefully this house had more than just expensive decorations.

“Why are you here?”

I almost jumped.

I turned to my left, startled by the deep voice. That’s when I saw him.

He was sitting by the bar, sipping wine. Hazel brown eyes. Sharp nose. A jawline you could cut glass with.

Wow. My sister’s husband was ridiculously handsome.

I blinked several times, realizing I had been staring. I cleared my throat before speaking.

“T-This is my house too.”

Why was I stammering? This wasn’t like me. I was strong, a fighter. I was the one who used to protect Normani when we were kids.

So why did I feel so small now?

“Your house? Right.”

He let out a dry laugh and looked at me with clear disinterest. “You? Since when do you even stay here?”

His face darkened, and he took another sip of wine.

“Why are you drinking this late?” I asked, ignoring his jab.

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head slowly, like he couldn’t believe I was actually scolding him.

I opened the fridge, grabbed a slice of cake and some juice, and sat down at the bar. I was starving.

“So what’s your plan now, my dear wife?”

I looked up, surprised that he spoke again.

“Plan for what?” I asked, keeping my tone innocent.

His brows drew together. Then he stood up.

I flinched when he walked over and grabbed my arm, squeezing tight.

What is wrong with this man?

“You’re hurting me. Let go. Are you drunk?” I hissed as I tried to pull my arm free.

I gave him a sharp glare. Jerk.

I was trying not to scratch his face off. I had to be nice to him. That was part of the plan—to keep the marriage intact. Losing my temper now would just ruin everything.

“I haven’t seen you in two weeks and suddenly you’re here? Like nothing happened? Are you serious?” His voice rose. I saw the muscles in his jaw clench.

His grip was painful. I was sure it would leave a mark.

I wasn’t surprised by what he said. Of course Normani hadn’t been home.

She was in a coma.

This man had no idea.

What kind of husband doesn’t know his wife is in a hospital bed, fighting for her life?

Handsome, sure. But heartless.

I didn’t answer. I just looked at him. He was still wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

“Let me go, Fabio,” I said quietly and touched his wrist.

He froze.

His brows pulled together, like my voice had thrown him off. Confusion flickered in his eyes, then turned into something else. Disappointment.

“Don’t call me Fabio. Since when did you ever call me that? You always called me jerk, remember?”

His voice shook, and I saw the red creeping up his neck.

He turned around and left the kitchen without another word.

I stood there, stunned.

“What did I just get myself into?” I whispered.

What happened between Normani and her husband?

I knew my sister. She was always quiet. We were nothing alike. But I never thought she’d call someone a jerk.

She really had changed. And what was written in that folder wasn’t nearly enough.

I was still in the dark.

What did you do, Normani?