Chapter 4
1496 Words
Zach’s POV
I stare at the photo Olivia sent.
Her lips on my cheek. Her hand gripping my shirt. The flash of a hotel hallway light.
It looks real. It looks damning.
Even though I pushed her away the moment she touched me. Even though I turned and left before anything could happen. One picture ruins the truth.
One picture can destroy a marriage.
I feel Arianna watching me. Waiting for me to explode. Maybe wanting to. If she wanted my downfall, this is the perfect time to strike. She could have leaked this. She could want revenge for tonight.
I look at her. Tears cling to her lashes. She tries to stand tall, but her voice is small when she says,
“I did not do this.”
I do not respond. I do not trust easily anymore.
My security chief clears his throat. “Sir, reporters are gathering downstairs. They want a statement about the bride swap and Olivia’s appearance.”
Of course they do. The wolves smell blood.
There is a charity gala tonight. High profile. Cameras everywhere. If we do not show up together, it will confirm the rumors.
I need to shut this down. I need control back.
I grab my jacket.
“Arianna,” I say. “We are going to that gala.”
Her eyes widen. “Tonight? Like this?”
“You married into this life,” I say. “You do not get to hide when it is inconvenient.”
She flinches at my words. Something inside me twists. I ignore it.
“Go change,” I tell her. “Wear something that makes them believe you belong by my side.”
She nods silently and walks toward the guest room. The train of her ruined wedding gown drags like a fallen flag.
When she disappears behind the door, I release a breath I did not know I was holding. I take another look at the photo. My jaw tightens until pain shoots up my skull.
Olivia knows my weakness. She knows exactly where to stab.
A soft voice breaks through my thoughts.
“I am ready.”
I turn.
And forget how to speak.
Arianna stands there in a black silk dress that hugs her waist and falls in a smooth line down to the floor. Her hair is pinned elegantly. Her lips have a soft shine. She looks like she stepped out of a magazine.
Beautiful.
Too beautiful.
I swallow, but the word that comes out sounds like a growl.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
We walk into the storm.
The gala is a nightmare. Flashing cameras. Reporters shouting Olivia’s name. Every smile feels like a lie. Every eye on us feels like a threat.
I keep my hand at the small of Arianna’s back. Not because I want to. Because I must. We are a united front, on display.
People swarm us.
“So happy for you both,” a woman coos while her eyes scan Arianna up and down like she is cheap fabric.
“How does it feel replacing your sister?” another whispers loudly enough for everyone to hear.
Arianna stiffens. Her nails dig into her palm.
I lean close to her ear. “Smile.”
She forces a smile that trembles at the edges.
We are escorted to a table. The chatter around us is knives sharpened on gossip. I grip my wine glass so hard it nearly shatters.
Then I hear her name said with that tone.
“Poor Olivia. To be betrayed by her own blood.”
I stand so quickly the chair scrapes loudly.
Silence falls.
All eyes lock on me.
“If anyone here repeats another lie about my wife,” I say slowly, “they will not be welcome in any Price owned establishment. Ever.”
A ripple of fear moves through the room. Satisfaction should follow. It does not.
Arianna stares at me with wide eyes. She looks touched.
I cannot allow that.
I sit again. I look away.
The night drags. The performance continues. I protect her. She plays her part. But every time my hand grazes her back by mistake, heat floods under her skin and I feel it.
When we finally return home, she kicks off her heels and exhales shakily. Her shoulders slump.
“That was awful,” she whispers.
“It will get worse before it gets better,” I say.
She wraps her arms around herself like she is trying to keep from unraveling.
“Am I really your wife,” she asks quietly, “or just your cover story?”
Her voice is so soft it nearly breaks me.
“You are what I need you to be.”
She turns away as if the words hit her physically.
She begins walking toward the guest room. I follow. I cannot tell if she hears me behind her or if she is simply too tired to run anymore.
As she reaches the door, my phone rings again.
Olivia.
Rage explodes through me like a bomb. I throw the phone against the wall. It shatters.
Arianna jumps. Her hand flies to her chest.
“I am sorry,” I say through clenched teeth. “She knows how to get under my skin.”
“You let her,” Arianna replies softly. “Maybe you should stop letting her control your life.”
I stare at her.
She is right.
And I hate that she is right.
“There is another thing,” security says, rushing up the hall. “We intercepted threats online targeted at Mrs. Price. We cannot guarantee her safety sleeping alone.”
Arianna’s eyes widen.
I am already speaking.
“She sleeps in my room,” I say.
Her gaze snaps to mine. Panic flickers in her expression.
“We cannot,” she says. “You said separate rooms.”
“I changed my mind.”
“It is our wedding night,” she whispers.
“I know.”
I open the door to the master suite and gesture inside. She hesitates. I can almost hear her heartbeat pounding like mine.
She steps in slowly. The room is dark except for the city lights pouring through the windows.
I follow and close the door. The sound feels final.
She stands by the bed, twisting her fingers.
“You want me to sleep on the couch,” she asks, barely audible.
“No.”
She looks up fast. Her breath catches.
I walk closer. She backs up until the bed hits the back of her knees.
“We need to clear something,” I say. “There is danger. There are lies. We cannot turn our backs on each other. Not tonight.”
Her voice trembles. “Are you protecting me because of the press or because you want to?”
I swallow.
Both.
Neither.
I do not know.
“We sleep here,” I answer. “Same room. Same bed.”
Her lips part. “What if I say no.”
“I would not force you,” I say. “But I will not leave you alone.”
She looks away. “I am not used to needing someone.”
I step closer until only a breath separates us.
“We do not have to need each other to stay alive.”
Her eyes flick to my mouth.
The tension is a wire pulled too tight.
She whispers, “Where do you want me.”
The question tears something inside me open.
I reach out. My fingers brush her jaw. She shivers.
“Here,” I say. “Next to me.”
Slowly, she climbs into the bed. She lies on the left side, pulling the sheets over her body like armor.
I remove my jacket and sit on the edge. My heartbeat is too loud in my chest.
She watches me like she is waiting for me to change my mind. Or ruin her. Or save her.
I slide under the covers beside her. We lie there, not touching. The air between us is burning.
Arianna whispers,
“I am scared.”
My chest tightens. I turn my head toward her.
“Me too,” I admit.
There is a moment of raw silence.
Then I feel her hand move.
She takes mine.
Not tightly. Not with demand.
Just so she is not alone.
I close my fingers around hers.
For the first time tonight, breathing does not hurt.
And just when the room begins to settle… my phone ding sounds from the floor.
A new message. Unknown number.
But the picture that loads makes my blood freeze.
It is me.
Carrying a woman into a room.
But it is not Olivia.
It is Arianna.
Someone is watching us.
Someone wants to destroy us.
I look at Arianna.
She sees the fear in my eyes.
“What is going on,” she whispers.
I do not answer.
Because the real nightmare is only beginning.
- Writer
