The Billionaire's Sixty-Day Wife

Chapter 6

Alejandro's POV

"Family dinner tonight."

The moment my grandfather says the words, I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling because Santiago Vega has spent eighty-three years perfecting the art of turning simple announcements into threats.

"Tonight?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"That's usually what tonight means," he replies dryly, and the amusement in his voice immediately puts me on edge because it means he's enjoying himself.

"You gave me less than eight hours' notice."

"Then I suggest you stop wasting them."

The line disconnects before I can respond.

For several seconds, I continue staring at my phone because I know exactly what this is.

A test, another one.

The estate review hasn't even officially started yet, and somehow my grandfather is already finding new ways to make my life difficult.

I leave the office earlier than planned and return to the Malibu estate, fully expecting to find Camila somewhere she shouldn't be. Sure enough, I discover her in the kitchen arguing with one of the chefs while pointing accusingly at an absurd amount of vegetables.

"Nobody needs this many carrots," she says, folding her arms across her chest as though she's presenting a legal argument.

The chef looks exhausted.

"I assure you, Miss Reyes....."

"Camila."

"Camila," he corrects with visible relief, "there are more than twenty people living and working here."

"Then twenty people can share one carrot."

I rub a hand over my face as I walk into the room. The chef notices me first and immediately looks grateful enough to hug me.

Camila notices a second later.

"What?" she asks suspiciously, and the fact that she immediately assumes I've brought bad news tells me she's learning how my family operates.

"We have a family dinner tonight."

Her entire expression changes. "Oh no."

I almost laugh.

"What?"

"The way you said that," I tell her, pulling out a chair. "You sounded like someone just announced a natural problem."

She sits on the seat across from me and points a finger in my direction. "Considering your grandfather's involved, how different is it really?"

Fair point.

I hate that it's a fair point.

"How many people?" she asks.

"Enough to make this unpleasant."

Her groan is immediate. "Can we cancel?"

"No."

"Can we fake our deaths?"

"No."

She sighs before resting her head against the table. "I knew this fake marriage came with hidden fees."

Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitches. The movement is small, but Camila notices instantly because she narrows her eyes at me.

"Did you just almost smile?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Wow."

"What?"

"Nothing," she says, shaking her head. "It's just weird knowing you're physically capable of it."

I should be annoyed instead, I find myself fighting another smile.

A few hours later, we're driving toward my grandfather's estate, and the closer we get, the more the familiar weight settles across my shoulders because family dinners in the Vega family have never actually been about family.

They're about power, politics, and finding weaknesses before someone else can exploit them first.

"You're quiet," Camila says as she glances toward me.

I keep my eyes on the road. "I'm thinking."

"Dangerous."

The comment earns a look and she shrugs. "I'm trying to lighten the mood."

"It's not working."

"You're welcome."

For some reason, that makes me laugh. The sound surprises both of us.

Camila blinks, I blink and neither of us mentions it.

By the time we reach the estate, luxury cars already line the driveway and lights glow from every window, making it obvious my grandfather invited far more people than necessary.

The moment we step inside, conversations begin slowing around us.

I feel Camila tense beside me, and before I can think better of it, my hand settles briefly against her lower back as we walk through the room.

The contact lasts only a second, but she glances up at me anyway then Victor appears.

My cousin moves through the crowd with the confidence of someone who believes every room belongs to him, and judging by the calculating look in his eyes, he's already evaluating everything about tonight.

"Cousin," he says smoothly.

"Victor."

His attention immediately shifts toward Camila. "So this is the famous wife."

Something about his tone irritates me.

Camila extends her hand anyway. "And you must be Victor."

His smile widens. "I've heard a lot about you."

"I haven't heard much about you," she replies pleasantly, and the brief flash of surprise on his face almost makes the entire evening worthwhile.

Dinner begins shortly afterward, and within minutes I realize my grandfather isn't even pretending anymore.

"So," Santiago says while casually sipping wine, "how are you two enjoying married life?"

The question sounds harmless but it isn't. Nothing he asks is harmless.

Camila glances toward me before answering. "I'm still adjusting to the eighteen living rooms."

"It's seventeen."

She turns. "You corrected me."

"Because you're wrong."

"That's worse."

Laughter spreads around the table, and while everyone else seems entertained, I notice my grandfather studying us carefully.

The questions continue throughout dinner, moving from favorite meals and morning routines to weekend habits and relationship milestones, with each one carefully designed to expose a c***k in our story.

Each one is another trap disguised as conversation, yet somehow Camila keeps navigating them effortlessly.

When my aunt asks what coffee I drink every morning, she answers correctly. When someone asks about my work schedule, she remembers details from conversations weeks ago. When my uncle asks where I prefer spending vacations, she recalls a passing comment I barely remember making myself.

The more she talks, the more impressed I become.

I shouldn't be, this is supposed to be a business arrangement. Yet every time she answers another question correctly, a strange sense of pride settles in my chest.

Across the table, Victor notices too.

Unlike me, he doesn't look impressed.

He looks suspicious.

The realization immediately puts me on guard because Victor never studies people this carefully unless he believes they're hiding something.

Then my grandfather decides to make everything worse. "Tell us how you fell in love."

Silence instantly settles across the room.

I knew the question was coming eventually, I just hoped eventually meant later.

Camila looks at me, I look at her and neither of us speaks for several seconds because there isn't a real story.

I hesitate because the truth is that our relationship began with a contract signed out of desperation after a lawsuit, not with the kind of love story everyone around this table expects to hear.

Unfortunately, everyone is waiting.

Especially Victor.

"We kept running into each other," Camila finally says, and although I know she's improvising, her voice remains steady. "At first, we mostly argued."

Laughter breaks the tension slightly.

I decide to help. "Mostly because she enjoys being difficult."

Her eyes narrow. "That's not how I remember it."

"Because your memory is selective."

"Or maybe you were impossible."

More laughter and the room relaxes but my grandfather doesn't, he's still watching and testing.

The strange thing is that the longer the story continues, the easier it becomes.

"Eventually," I say, keeping my eyes on Camila, "I realized she was the only person willing to tell me when I was wrong."

The surprise that flashes across her face is genuine.

For a second, neither of us looks away, then she smiles.

"And eventually," she says softly, "he realized I was right most of the time."

The table erupts with laughter.

The moment passes but something about it lingers.

Dinner finally ends nearly two hours later, and just when I think we've survived the worst of it, my grandfather stands.

The room immediately quiets.

Santiago raises his wine glass and looks directly at Camila and me, and the satisfaction in his eyes makes my instincts start screaming.

"My family has officially welcomed the newest Mrs. Vega," he says, pausing long enough to ensure everyone's attention remains fixed on us. "Which means it's time for a proper public introduction."

A knot forms in my stomach.

Beside me, Camila sits up straighter.

Across the room, Victor smiles.

That smile worries me more than anything else tonight.

"In two days," Santiago continues, "the entire family will attend the Vega Foundation Charity Gala."

Santiago's gaze settles on both of us before his smile widens.

"And that evening, Alejandro and Camila will be introduced publicly as husband and wife."