A Wife on Display
Lily decided she hated shopping.
Correction—she hated shopping when every store looked like it could pay off her student loans with a single handbag.
The boutique Adrian had taken her to was quiet, pristine, and terrifying. Glass walls reflected soft lighting, and every surface gleamed as if dust itself had been banned. Employees hovered discreetly, dressed better than Lily had ever dressed on her best day.
She tugged self-consciously at her sweater.
"This place is judging me," she muttered.
Adrian, standing beside her in a tailored coat that probably cost more than her childhood home, glanced down. "It's a building."
"It has opinions."
He ignored that.
"This won't take long," Adrian said. "You need clothes appropriate for public appearances."
"I have clothes," Lily protested.
"You have survival attire," he replied. "You need representation attire."
She sighed. "I married a man, not a brand."
"You married both."
A stylist approached, smiling brightly. "Mrs. Blackwood, welcome. We've prepared several selections based on your profile."
Lily blinked. "My what?"
Adrian answered smoothly. "Height, complexion, public image goals."
Public image goals?
Before she could argue, she was gently but firmly ushered into a fitting room with an armful of dresses.
"This is kidnapping," she called out.
"It's efficiency," Adrian replied from outside.
The first dress was elegant. The second was stunning. The third made Lily stare at herself in the mirror like she was seeing a stranger.
The woman reflected back at her looked… expensive.
She stepped out reluctantly.
Adrian looked up—and froze.
Just for a second.
But Lily saw it.
The dress hugged her perfectly, understated but undeniably striking. Adrian's gaze lingered before he caught himself and straightened.
"It fits," he said.
"That's all?" she asked.
"Yes."
A lie.
The stylist beamed. "You look exquisite, Mrs. Blackwood."
Lily shifted. "I feel like I'm wearing someone else's life."
"You'll grow into it," Adrian said quietly.
As she returned to the fitting room, Lily noticed something else—the glances.
Other customers. Staff. Curious, admiring, whispering.
She stepped out again, this time in a different outfit, when a familiar female voice drifted across the boutique.
"Well, if it isn't Adrian Blackwood."
Lily turned.
A woman stood near the counter, tall and polished, her smile sharp enough to cut glass. She wore confidence like armor—and she was looking directly at Adrian.
"Clara," Adrian said coolly. "This is unexpected."
Clara's gaze slid to Lily, slow and assessing. "And this must be the wife."
Lily straightened instinctively. "That's me."
Clara smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm surprised. Adrian usually prefers… predictability."
Lily glanced at Adrian. "Am I unpredictable?"
"Yes," he replied immediately.
Clara laughed. "That explains it."
Something in her tone prickled Lily's nerves.
"And you are?" Lily asked.
"Clara Hastings," she said smoothly. "Old friend. Business associate. Almost family."
Almost.
That word hung in the air.
Adrian stepped slightly closer to Lily—not touching, but clearly positioning himself.
Clara noticed.
Interesting.
"Well," Clara said, "you've married well. Adrian doesn't bring just anyone into the public eye."
Lily smiled sweetly. "Neither do I."
Adrian shot her a look.
Clara's smile tightened. "Careful, Mrs. Blackwood. This world isn't kind to newcomers."
"I've noticed," Lily replied. "But I adapt quickly."
Adrian cleared his throat. "We're busy."
"Of course," Clara said, eyes lingering on him. "Enjoy your… shopping."
As Clara walked away, Lily exhaled slowly.
"Who was that?" she asked.
"Someone irrelevant," Adrian replied too quickly.
She glanced at him. "You're lying."
He didn't deny it.
On the way out of the boutique, Lily noticed Adrian's jaw was tense.
"You're quiet," she said.
"I don't appreciate interference," he replied.
"Funny," she said lightly. "She seemed very comfortable interfering."
He stopped walking.
Lily nearly collided with him.
"Listen carefully," Adrian said, voice low. "People will test you. They'll provoke you. Some will try to replace you."
Her chest tightened. "Replace me?"
"You're my wife," he said firmly. "That position is not open."
The words sent a strange warmth through her.
"And if I don't want to play this role?" Lily asked softly.
Adrian looked at her for a long moment. "Then tell me."
She searched his face, trying to find the calculation behind his eyes.
"I don't know yet," she admitted.
"That's acceptable," he said. "For now."
Later that night, Lily stood by the bedroom window, staring at the city lights.
She hadn't expected jealousy—not from him, not from herself.
But Clara's smile replayed in her mind.
The way Adrian had stepped closer to her without thinking.
The way he'd said, That position is not open.
This wasn't just a contract anymore.
It was a stage.
And Lily had just realized how many people were watching.