The Marriage He Thought Was Fake (The Revenge Affair-Book 2)

The day my grandfather died was the day I learned that even my future could be taken from me.

I had barely said goodbye to him when my mother introduced me to the man she had already chosen to become my husband.

“This is Adrian, your fiancé.” She said it casually. Like it was nothing. Like she hadn't just placed a stranger in front of me and handed him the rest of my life.

My eyes widened as I looked at him. Adrian Beaumont. Tall, how and impossibly composed.

There was an aura of cold dignity around him, the kind that came from being born into money and never having to question whether the world would make room for him. His dark suit was perfectly tailored. His expression was neutral.

He extended his hand. “Adrian Beaumont.”

I stared at his hand. I didn't take it.

“Adrian is the heir to the Beaumont Group,” my mother continued. “The two of you will make a powerful couple.”

Powerful. That was what she cared about. Not whether I wanted him. Not whether I knew him. Not whether I had even finished grieving the man whose body had been lying in a coffin less than an hour ago. Powerful.

I turned away from Adrian and grabbed my mother's arm. “Mother, do you understand what you're trying to do right now?”

She looked at me calmly. “I’m trying to secure your position, Caleste.”

“My position?”

“Your grandfather left his inheritance to you.” Her voice lowered. “The entire group.”

My fingers tightened around her arm.

“If you don't have a strong partner like Adrian, your cousin will take everything from you. You know how your uncle has been waiting for this.”

I stared at her. “Grandfather isn't even buried yet.”

“You think the board is going to wait for you to finish mourning?”

Her words hit harder than they should have.

“You have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I know exactly what I'm talking about.”

She glanced toward Adrian. “He is the best option. The most successful man after Vance Blackwood.”

I almost laughed. “Mother, he is a stranger.”

“He is thirty-four, financially independent, educated, powerful, and the heir to one of the largest groups in the country.”

“That doesn't make him my husband.”

“It makes him suitable.”

There it was. Suitable. As if I were choosing a new investment. Not a husband.

“You've changed, Caleste.”

I went silent.

My mother sighed. “Your grandfather softened you too much over these last five years.”

My chest tightened.

“You used to understand how the world worked. You knew what was at stake. Now you're becoming sentimental.”

“My grandfather just died.”

“And your grandfather spent the last five years preparing you to take over everything he built.”

Her expression hardened. “He didn't prepare you so you could throw it away because you're grieving.”

“Mother!”

She straightened her dress. “Once the funeral is over, Adrian will take you to dinner.”

“I won't go.”

“You will.”

“No.”

“It's settled.” She turned away.

I watched her walk back toward Adrian as if our conversation had been nothing more than an inconvenience.

“Let's attend the funeral,” she told him.

Adrian nodded. Before he followed her, his eyes met mine. There was no apology in them. Just calm acceptance. As though he had already accepted a future I hadn't even agreed to. And perhaps that was the most terrifying part.

Everyone seemed to know what was happening to my life. Except me.

My grandfather's funeral began shortly after. Philip Ashworth had spent decades building an empire. So naturally, half the people attending his funeral were people who wanted something from it.

Business partners, executives, family members, old friends. People who had spent years calling him Philip and suddenly remembered to call him Mr. Ashworth when they saw the lawyers.

My father's family stood together on one side. My cousin was there with his parents. The same cousin my mother had just warned me about. The same cousin who would inherit everything if I failed. I looked at them and felt nothing.

My grandfather was dead. And somehow, everyone was already calculating what came next.

I couldn't. Not yet. I needed one person.

Someone who wouldn't tell me what my grandfather had wanted. Someone who would simply sit beside me and let me grieve.

I looked toward the entrance. He wasn't there. I looked again. Still nothing. Sam.

He had been beside me for five years. Five years of knowing how I took my coffee, showing up when I needed him, making me laugh when I wanted to scream.

He had seen me at my worst. He had never asked me to pretend to be anything else. And today, when I needed him most, he wasn't there.

I hated myself for looking for him. I hated myself even more when I realized I had been waiting for him.

Then I saw Nerissa and Vance approaching. William and Lily Blackwood stood behind them.

Nerissa reached me first. “Caleste.”

She pulled me into a hug. “I'm so sorry.”

The moment her arms wrapped around me, something inside me cracked. I closed my eyes. I wanted to cry. I wanted to fall apart.

But I forced myself to breathe. “Thank you.”

Vance stood beside her, one hand resting gently against Nerissa's back.

“Philip was a great man,” he said.

I looked at him.

“He may no longer be with us, but his legacy is still alive. And you're the one who will carry it forward.”

I swallowed. “Thank you.”

My eyes drifted past them. Still searching him Nerissa noticed it, as always.

“Sam is still on the way from the coastline.”

I looked at her.

“He'll reach town tonight.”

“I wasn't looking for him.” The lie came too quickly.

Nerissa gave me a sad smile. She knew me too well.

“You don't have to pretend with me.”

I looked away. The funeral continued. I listened to words about my grandfather's kindness. His vision. His achievements. His legacy.

Everyone talked about the man he had been. Nobody talked about the fact that I had lost my grandfather. Nobody seemed to understand that I wasn't thinking about his company. I was thinking about the first time he taught me how to ride a bicycle.

The way he used to call me his little storm whenever I argued with him. The way he had looked at me during his final days. As if he knew he wouldn't be there much longer.

I should have stayed beside him longer. I should have said more. I should have—

“Caleste.” My mother's voice pulled me back.

The funeral was over. Adrian stood beside my stepfather. My mother had left my little brother with her husband and was already walking toward me.

“Adrian is waiting.”

Of course he was. I looked at him. Then at my mother.

“I need the restroom.”

I turned before she could respond. I didn't go to the restroom. I slipped away. I got into my car and drove home.

I ignored the entire future they had apparently planned for me. For once, I wanted something that belonged only to me. Silence.

Momo was waiting at the door when I arrived. The moment she saw me, her little tail started moving.

I picked her up. “Hi, baby.”

Her warm body pressed against my chest. And that was it. I broke.

I carried her to my bedroom, climbed onto the bed, and held her tightly against me. The tears came without warning.

I cried for my grandfather. For the empty space he left behind. For the future I didn't recognize anymore. And for reasons I didn't want to admit yet— for the man who wasn't there.

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang. I almost ignored it. Then I checked the camera. My heart stopped. Sam was finally here. I opened the door immediately.

“Caleste…” He looked exhausted.

His hair was messy from the drive. His jacket was still covered with traces of dust from the road.

His eyes found mine. The warmth disappeared from his face.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked. “I was late.”

I shook my head. “You're here now.”

I tried to smile. “Thank you.”

He stared at me for a moment. Then he stepped closer.

“You don't have to be strong in front of me.” His hand settled gently on my shoulder.

The touch was warm. It was warm and familiar.

I looked down. “Did you eat?”

He blinked. “No.”

“As expected.”

A small smile appeared on his face. “Let me cook.”

He walked inside before I could argue. I followed him into the apartment, then settled onto the sofa with Momo.

Sam went straight to the kitchen. He didn't ask what I wanted. He already knew. He opened my refrigerator. Checked the cabinets. Rolled up his sleeves. And started cooking.

I watched him from the sofa. For a moment, everything felt normal. Then his eyes wandered around my apartment.

He noticed the photographs. The large wall filled with pictures of my grandfather and me. Photos of Momo. A few pictures from work. Then he saw one of us.

Sam and me. Taken last year at his family's house.

He smiled. “You finally put that one up.”

I looked at the photograph. “I like it.”

“Me too.”

He went back to cooking. I looked away.

Five years, and he still didn't know. Maybe that was my fault. Maybe I had never given him a reason to know. Or maybe I was simply too afraid to find out what would happen if I did.

The smell of food slowly filled the apartment. It was comforting. So comforting that I didn't realize when my eyes became heavy.

The last thing I remembered was hearing Sam move around the kitchen. When I opened my eyes again, I was still on the sofa.

Sam was standing over me. “You fell asleep.”

I rubbed my eyes. “How long?”

“Not long.” He smiled. “You should eat.”

Before I could answer, the doorbell rang.

Sam frowned. “Were you expecting someone?”

“No.”

He walked toward the door. I sat up. Then he opened it. Adrian stood outside. My stomach dropped.

“I was waiting for you to have dinner with me,” Adrian said.

His eyes moved past Sam and into my apartment. “Your mother didn't mention you lived with someone else.”

Sam immediately shook his head. “Oh, no. I don't live here.”

He smiled politely. “I live at the Aerie. I'm just helping her with dinner.”

Adrian studied him. “You are?”

“Samuel Hart.” Sam extended his hand.

“I work with Caleste at Horizon Global.”

Adrian didn't take it immediately. His eyes moved toward me. “Co-worker?”

The single word carried something I couldn't quite identify.

“Why are you here?” I asked Adrian coldly.

“It's natural that I know where my fiancée lives.”

Silence. Sam's hand slowly dropped. His eyes moved from Adrian to me. “Fiancée?”

I couldn't answer. Adrian did.“Yes.”

He looked at Sam. “I'm Adrian Beaumont.”

Then he looked at me. “We're engaged.”

Sam stared at him. Then at me. His expression changed. There was no anger not jealousy. Just confusion. A terrible, innocent confusion.

“We're not officially engaged,” I said quickly.

Adrian's expression remained calm. “We made it official today.”

He paused. “The ceremony will take place later.”

Sam looked at me again. For five years, I had imagined what it would be like if he ever found out how I felt about him.

I had imagined surprise. Shock. Maybe even jealousy. I had never imagined this.

Sam simply looked lost. “Oh.”

He forced a small smile. “Well…”

He glanced between us. “I think I'm not supposed to be here.”

My heart sank. “Sam—”

“Anyway.” His smile widened, but something about it felt wrong.

“Congratulations, Caleste.”

Then he turned around. And walked away.

I stood there watching him disappear down the hallway. I wanted to call him back. I wanted to tell him that this wasn't what it looked like. That I didn't want Adrian.

That the only person I had wanted to see today was him.But the words never came.

Because there was one question I was too afraid to ask. If Sam had cared about me the way I cared about him...

Would he have looked more hurt?