Nora's POV
The truth about how my parents died. And why everyone in this company thinks I'm responsible for killing them.
The words hang in the air like poison.
You didn't kill your parents, I say, though my voice shakes.
Tell that to Victoria. Tell that to half the board. Dominic's face is carved from stone. They died in a plane crash ten years ago. I was supposed to be on that flight. Changed plans last minute.
That's not murder. That's survival.
Is it? His laugh is bitter. My father was protecting company technology worth billions. I chose a college party over flying home with them. They died. I lived. Victoria's been reminding me of that fact ever since.
Guilt. I see it now, buried under all that ice. He's been carrying this weight for a decade.
Victoria's wrong, I say firmly.
Maybe. But she's also dangerous. His eyes lock on mine. Don't meet with her tomorrow. Whatever she wants to tell you is designed to break us apart.
We're not really together.
She doesn't know that. He moves closer. To everyone else, we're madly in love. We need to keep it that way.
My heart thuds. Right. The story.
The story, he repeats, but something flickers in his eyes. Something that makes my stomach flip.
Three hours later, I'm standing in a penthouse that costs more than I'll earn in my entire lifetime.
Windows stretch from floor to ceiling. The view shows Central Park spreading out like a green carpet. Everything is sleek, modern, expensive. This isn't a home. It's a statement.
Your room. Dominic opens a door.
The bedroom is enormous. King-sized bed. Private bathroom with a tub big enough to swim in. A closet that echoes when I step inside.
This is bigger than my entire apartment, I whisper.
Was bigger than your apartment. He leans against the doorframe. Your landlord's already been paid for breaking the lease. Your belongings will arrive within the hour.
You work fast.
I told you. I always do. His gaze travels over me, assessing. We need to establish ground rules.
Like?
Separate bedrooms. This is business, not romance.
Relief and disappointment war in my chest. Agreed.
Public affection is necessary to sell the marriage. Hand-holding, casual touches, occasional kisses. His voice is professional, detached. Nothing more.
Fine.
My grandmother wants to meet you tomorrow night. Family dinner. He straightens. The board will be there. Victoria. Everyone who wants to see me fail.
Sounds delightful.
They'll be looking for cracks in our story. Inconsistencies. His eyes sharpen. Can you convince a room full of sharks that you fell in love with me at first sight?
I lift my chin. Can you handle a wife who doesn't worship the ground you walk on?
He laughs. Actually laughs—warm and genuine, transforming his entire face. For a second, he looks young. Almost carefree.
This might actually be entertaining, he says.
Then his phone rings. The warmth vanishes. He's CEO Ashford again—cold, controlled, untouchable.
I have calls to make. Make yourself comfortable. He pauses at the door. Welcome home, Mrs. Ashford.
The door clicks shut.
I sink onto the massive bed, head spinning. This morning I was broke and desperate. Now I'm living in a billionaire's penthouse, married to a man I met six hours ago, about to have dinner with people who think he's a murderer.
My life is insane.
I try to sleep, but my brain won't shut off. The bed is too soft. The room is too quiet. Everything smells expensive and unfamiliar.
Around midnight, my phone buzzes.
Unknown number: Saw you at City Hall today. Interesting choice of husband. We need to talk. Marcus
My hands shake. How does he know already? How is he always one step ahead?
Buzz. Another text.
You think marrying Ashford protects you? You think his money makes you safe?
Buzz.
I destroyed you once, Nora. I can do it again. Only this time, I'll take him down with you.
Buzz.
Sleep well in your new bed. Wonder how long before it becomes a cage.
Terror claws up my throat. I'm trapped in a stranger's home, married to a man I don't know, while my ex-fiancé sends threats in the middle of the night.
What have I done?
A knock at my door makes me jump.
Nora? Dominic's voice. Your light's still on.
I open the door.
He's shirtless. Hair messy like he's been running his hands through it. Sleep pants hanging low on his hips. For a second, I forget how to breathe.
Can't sleep either? His eyes search my face, then drop to my phone. What happened?
I hand him the phone silently.
His jaw tightens as he reads. When he looks up, there's murder in his eyes.
He's escalating.
I noticed. My voice cracks. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I should just
You're not going anywhere. He grabs my shoulders, firm but gentle. You're safe here. I promise.
You can't promise that.
Yes, I can. His voice is steel. Marcus wants you scared. Wants you running. We're not giving him the satisfaction.
Another text buzzes. We both look down.
Tick tock, Nora. The clock's running out.
Dominic's grip tightens. He pulls out his own phone, makes a call.
James. I need full security on the penthouse. Now. Yes, tonight. I don't care if he's sleepingwake him. He pauses. And run a trace on this number. Marcus Trent is making threats.
He hangs up. Looks at me with something almost like tenderness.
You're not alone anymore. Remember that.
Why do you care? The question bursts out. This is just business. You said so yourself.
He's quiet for a long moment. His thumb traces my cheekbone—gentle, almost reverent.
Because no one deserves to be terrorized by the man who was supposed to love them. His voice is rough. And because the look on your face when you read those texts? I know that look. I've worn it myself.
My breath catches. For a second, we're just two broken people standing in a doorway.
Then his phone rings.
He steps back, the moment shattering. That's security. Get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be difficult.
He leaves.
I climb back into bed, heart racing. My phone buzzes one final time.
But this time, it's not Marcus.
It's a photo. Sent from another unknown number.
A picture of me and Dominic leaving City Hall this morning. Someone circled our joined hands in red. Below it, a message:
The fake marriage won't save either of you. I'm watching. I'm waiting. And when the time is right, I'll destroy everything you're trying to build. —V
Victoria.
My blood turns to ice.
We don't just have Marcus to worry about.
Dominic's own cousin is coming for us too.