Just For Pretend

Two Nights

I should have said no.

The moment the word left my mouth, I knew it.

Fine.

Two nights.

As if it was nothing.

As if staying inside the home of Arthur Cole, a man who looked at me like a threat, was a casual weekend decision.

Now, standing in a guest bedroom the size of my apartment, I felt the weight of my mistake.

The room was elegant and cold, all cream walls and expensive furniture that looked untouched.

Like no one was meant to relax here.

A maid had already placed my overnight bag on the bed.

I had not even seen her arrive.

The house moved like that.

Quiet. Controlled.

Watched.

The door clicked softly behind me.

I turned.

Noah stood there.

His expression was tight, his jaw clenched like he had been holding himself together for hours.

“Blair,” he said.

I crossed my arms. “Do not start.”

“I am going to start,” he replied sharply. “What were you thinking?”

His tone caught me off guard.

Noah was usually smooth, careful.

This was raw.

“I was thinking about the board,” I said.

“This is not about the board anymore.”

His voice was low.

I swallowed.

“Then what is it about?”

Noah stepped into the room, closing the door fully behind him.

The click echoed.

Now we were alone.

Too alone.

His gaze locked on mine.

“It is about my father,” he said quietly. “And what he does when he thinks he is losing control.”

My chest tightened.

“What does he do?”

Noah’s laugh was humorless.

“He destroys things.”

Silence.

The air felt heavier.

I forced myself to breathe.

“Why would he destroy me?” I asked softly.

Noah’s eyes flickered.

“Because you are close.”

The words landed like a pulse.

Close.

We were not close.

This was pretend.

This was rules.

Boundaries.

Still, my heart betrayed me with a small, sharp beat.

“I am not here for you,” I reminded him.

Noah’s mouth twitched.

“That is the problem.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?”

He exhaled hard, dragging a hand through his hair.

“It means you are here because you chose to be,” he said. “Not because you want something. Not because you are impressed by money or power.”

His voice dropped.

“And my father does not understand people like that.”

I stared at him.

For the first time, Noah looked…tired.

Not reckless.

Not charming.

Just tired.

I softened despite myself.

“What happens now?” I asked.

Noah’s gaze held mine.

“Now we survive the weekend.”

I forced a small breath of laughter.

“That is dramatic.”

He did not smile.

“It is honest.”

A knock came at the door before I could respond.

Noah’s posture shifted instantly.

The door opened without waiting.

Marianne stepped in, her expression gentle but worried.

“Oh,” she said softly, noticing Noah. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” I said quickly.

Noah’s jaw tightened.

Marianne glanced between us, then sighed.

“I wanted to check on you, Blair.”

Her voice was kind.

Too kind for this house.

“Thank you,” I said.

She stepped closer, lowering her voice.

“I am sorry about Arthur.”

I hesitated.

“He is…intense.”

Marianne’s smile was sad.

“He is afraid.”

I blinked.

“Afraid?”

She nodded.

“He built this company, this family, with control. And Noah is…” She glanced toward her son.

“Different,” Noah finished flatly.

Marianne’s eyes softened.

“Noah is human,” she corrected. “And Arthur does not know what to do with that.”

Noah’s expression tightened.

“Mom.”

Marianne reached out, touching his arm.

“He loves you,” she said quietly. “In his own terrible way.”

Noah looked away.

Marianne turned back to me.

“Dinner will be downstairs in an hour. Something small.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Marianne hesitated.

“And Blair…thank you for staying.”

Her sincerity made my throat tighten.

She left quietly, closing the door behind her.

Silence returned.

Noah’s shoulders remained tense.

“You do not have to impress her,” I said softly.

Noah’s laugh was sharp.

“I am not.”

He turned toward me, eyes intense.

“I am trying not to drag you into something you cannot get out of.”

My stomach twisted.

“Noah…”

He stepped closer.

The space between us shrank.

My pulse spiked.

Rule number two.

No physical intimacy.

Rule number three.

Do not blur lines.

His voice dropped.

“You should not be here.”

“I already am,” I whispered.

Noah’s gaze flickered to my mouth.

Then back to my eyes.

A moment stretched.

Dangerous.

Then he stepped back abruptly, like he had burned himself.

“Get some rest,” he muttered.

And he left.

I exhaled shakily, sinking onto the edge of the bed.

This weekend was already too much.

Dinner was smaller than I expected.

Just the four of us again.

The same dining room.

The same power at the head of the table.

Arthur Cole barely acknowledged me when I entered.

Marianne offered a warm smile.

Noah’s hand brushed mine briefly as I sat, a silent question.

Are you okay?

I nodded slightly.

Arthur spoke first.

“You have work?”

It was directed at me.

I straightened.

“Yes. I am in marketing strategy.”

Arthur nodded once.

“Ambitious.”

“I try to be capable,” I replied carefully.

Arthur’s gaze sharpened.

“Capability is rare.”

Marianne cleared her throat, trying to soften the conversation.

“Blair is very impressive.”

Arthur’s eyes flickered.

“I am sure.”

Noah’s jaw tightened.

The meal continued in tense politeness.

Then Arthur set down his fork.

“Noah.”

Noah looked up.

“Yes.”

Arthur’s voice was calm.

“The board dinner went well.”

Noah’s posture stiffened.

“It did.”

Arthur’s gaze flickered to me.

“Because of her.”

My chest tightened.

Noah’s hand clenched under the table.

Arthur leaned back slightly.

“You understand what is at stake,” he said to me.

I swallowed.

“Yes.”

Arthur’s eyes were cold.

“Good. Then you understand that distractions are unacceptable.”

Noah’s voice was low.

“She is not a distraction.”

Arthur’s gaze snapped to him.

“She is a variable.”

The word hit hard.

Variable.

Not person.

Not girlfriend.

Variable.

Noah stood abruptly, chair scraping.

“That is enough.”

Arthur remained seated, unbothered.

“Noah,” Marianne warned.

Noah’s chest rose and fell.

“I am not a child,” he said.

Arthur’s voice was calm.

“No. You are a man being evaluated.”

Noah’s jaw clenched.

Arthur’s gaze returned to me.

“If you are serious,” he said quietly, “you will not make this harder.”

My throat tightened.

This was not about love.

This was about control.

Noah’s voice was sharp.

“Stop talking to her like she is a tool.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed.

“She agreed to be part of this.”

Silence fell.

Noah’s breathing was heavy.

Then he turned and walked out.

The room froze.

Marianne’s face tightened with pain.

Arthur’s expression did not change.

I sat there, heart pounding.

Marianne stood quickly.

“Excuse me.”

She followed Noah.

Leaving me alone with Arthur.

The air felt colder.

Arthur’s gaze stayed on me.

“You see,” he said quietly, “why this cannot last.”

My throat tightened.

“This is not real,” I said before I could stop myself.

Arthur’s mouth curved slightly.

“No,” he agreed. “It is not.”

I swallowed.

“Then why are you testing me?”

Arthur’s eyes sharpened.

“Because my son is not as good at pretending as he thinks.”

My chest tightened.

Arthur leaned forward slightly.

“He looks at you differently already.”

I froze.

“That is impossible.”

Arthur’s voice was low.

“Nothing is impossible when Noah Cole is involved.”

My pulse hammered.

“You should leave after the weekend,” Arthur said calmly. “Before this becomes something that costs him everything.”

My throat went dry.

Costs him everything.

Arthur stood, adjusting his cufflinks like the conversation was finished.

Then he paused at the doorway.

“One more thing, Blair.”

I looked up.

Arthur’s gaze was sharp.

“The board is not the only thing watching Noah.”

My blood chilled.

“What do you mean?”

Arthur’s voice was quiet.

“There are people who would love to see him fail.”

Then he left.

I sat frozen.

My heart pounding.

People.

Not just Arthur.

Not just the board.

Someone else.

A threat outside this house.

I stood abruptly, breath unsteady.

I needed air.

I stepped into the hallway, searching for Noah.

And then I heard it.

Voices.

Noah’s voice, low and furious.

And another voice.

A woman’s.

I moved toward the sound, stopping just before the corner.

The woman spoke again, sharper now.

“You brought her here? Are you insane?”

I froze.

I knew that voice.

I had heard it once before, on the phone when Noah’s assistant called him during the board dinner.

Noah’s voice was tight.

“Not now, Celeste.”

Celeste.

My stomach dropped.

The woman hissed.

“Arthur is going to destroy her. And you know it.”

Noah’s voice was quiet.

“I am not letting him.”

Celeste laughed bitterly.

“You cannot even protect yourself, Noah.”

Silence.

Then Noah said something that made my blood run cold.

“She does not know why my father already knew her name.”

My breath caught.

Celeste’s voice went deadly quiet.

“Then you better tell her before she finds out the worst way.”

I stood frozen in the hallway, heart hammering.

What was he hiding?

And why did Arthur Cole already know me?