Semua Bab Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract: Bab 51 - Bab 60

~Fallon~It started with the coffee.Which was ridiculous, because coffee should never be the cause of anyone’s unraveling. But when you’re living in a pressure cooker — married to a man who acts like you barely exist — sometimes the little things become the breaking point.I came down to the kitchen that morning ready for caffeine and a moment of peace. I was already tired, already on edge. The sleepless nights and the silence in this house were wearing me thin, and I just wanted one thing to go right.But the pot was empty.The lingering scent of freshly brewed coffee mocked me, curling through the air like a taunt. I stared at the machine, my frustration building.“Are you kidding me?” I muttered, glaring at the empty carafe like it had personally betrayed me.“Good morning to you too.”I spun toward the voice, my pulse spiking — and of course, it was him.Reid stood by the counter, perfectly put together in his tailored suit, his dark hair smooth and his tie knotted with infuriati

~Fallon~The box sitting on my doorstep was enormous.It looked expensive before I even touched it — wrapped in sleek black paper with a silver ribbon tied so perfectly it felt like a crime to mess it up. My name was printed in elegant script on the tag, the kind of handwriting that made me picture calligraphy classes and personal stationery I’d never own.It wasn’t unusual for brands to send PR packages. It came with the job. But this… this felt different.And the minute I dragged it inside and opened the lid, I knew I was right.Because this wasn’t just a PR package.It was a couple’s PR package.Luxe Amor was one of the hottest brands right now — high-end home goods and lifestyle products designed for the kind of aspirational couples everyone envied. The ones with curated homes and cozy, perfect lives. The ones who made love look effortless and beautiful.The campaign was all about romance. Cozy nights in. Beautifully styled moments that felt real but were polished to perfection.T

~Fallon~I spent way too much time getting ready.Which was ridiculous. This wasn’t a date.It was dinner — a business transaction wrapped in good intentions and lingering tension. Nothing more.But that didn’t stop me from changing my dress three times. Or from standing in front of my mirror, second-guessing my lipstick and smoothing my hands over the soft fabric of the midnight blue slip dress I’d finally settled on. It draped just right, the silky material clinging in places I wanted it to and flowing everywhere else.It wasn’t too much. It wasn’t trying too hard.But the nerves fluttering in my stomach told me it was still more effort than I should’ve put into a night with a man who barely spoke to me.It’s just dinner, I told myself. A peace offering. Nothing more.Still… when I walked downstairs and saw Reid waiting by the door, my breath caught.He looked good. Unfairly good. The black button-down fit him too well, sleeves rolled up just enough to show his forearms, the top but

~Reid~The video was impossible to avoid.It was everywhere — my feed, the headlines, even the business sites that had no reason to care about influencer content. My phone hadn’t stopped buzzing since it went live — a constant stream of texts, emails, and calls. Half of them were about the merger I’d been working on for months. The other half?All about Fallon.All about us.The so-called love story we’d apparently perfected.And I hadn’t watched it.Not all of it, anyway.But the few seconds I did see played on a loop in my mind — her laugh, soft and real. The way she leaned into me without hesitation. The warmth in her eyes when she wasn’t guarded, when she wasn’t bracing for a fight.It looked real. Too real.Which was exactly why I needed to stay far away from it.“Any comment on the video, Mr. Callahan?”I didn’t even look up from my computer. “We’re here to discuss the Prescott acquisition. Not my personal life.”My assistant shifted awkwardly, her stack of notes trembling just

~Fallon~If I had known agreeing to this charity gala meant spending another night pretending my husband actually liked me, I would’ve faked a mysterious illness and stayed in bed.But the Prescott name was listed as a major donor. The Callahan name carried even more weight. And skipping out on a high-profile event like this would only fuel the rumor mill already obsessed with our marriage.So there I was — wrapped in silk and sequins, my makeup flawless, my mask firmly in place.Even if the man at my side hadn’t said a word to me since our fight.“Smile,” Reid murmured, his hand settling at the small of my back as the cameras started flashing.I plastered one on, my teeth aching from the effort. “I hate you.”“Smile bigger,” he shot back, his lips curving into something that looked a lot like affection to anyone who didn’t know better. “The press is eating this up.”I wanted to step on his foot. Maybe stab him with my stiletto. But instead, I tilted my head toward him, letting the ph