Aria wasn’t supposed to marry Rowan Ashford. Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong bride. And somehow… everyone just went with it. Rowan didn’t correct it. Didn’t question it. Didn’t even look surprised. Which, frankly, should have been her first warning. Now she’s living in a house that isn’t hers, married to a man who barely explains anything, surrounded by people who act like this is completely normal— while she’s the only one wondering what the hell is going on. Aria isn’t fragile. She doesn’t cry quietly or accept things gracefully. She asks questions. Pushes back. And absolutely refuses to behave like the “proper wife” everyone expects. Rowan, on the other hand… lets her. Watches her. Indulges her—just enough to keep her from walking away. And that’s the real problem. Because Aria can handle lies. What she can’t handle… is a man who never lies— and still refuses to tell the truth.