The silence between them stretched like a tightrope. Ayana stood in Ethan’s massive living room, eyes wide, her suitcase clutched like a shield.
“This... this isn’t just a house,” she whispered. “It’s a palace.”
Ethan gave a tired smile. “You’ll get used to it.”
She shook her head, overwhelmed by the glass walls, spiral staircase, and velvet furniture. “I’m a salon girl from Kawangware. I don’t belong here.”
He walked up to her, slowly. “You belong wherever you choose, Ayana. You saved my life. Let me save yours.”
Before she could respond, the housekeeper appeared. “Sir, shall I prepare the guest room?”
Ethan hesitated. “No. Ayana stays in the master suite.”
Ayana’s heart skipped. “Excuse me?”
He leaned in, voice low. “We’re married, remember? It has to look real.”
She wanted to argue. But she thought of her mother… the hospital bills… her dreams. So she nodded.
As the night settled, Ayana stood on the balcony, staring at the city lights. She was living a lie. But why did this lie feel so safe... so warm?
And why did her heart race every time Ethan looked at her like that?
Tomorrow, their fake life would begin. But tonight, her feelings were already too real.