BEHIND HIS SPOTLIGHT

Chapter One The Wife Nobody Knows Lia's POV At 5:42 a.m., the man the entire country was obsessed with was stealing my blanket. I opened one eye and stared at him. For a moment, the darkness of the bedroom softened everything about Ethan. The sharp jawline that appeared on magazine covers. The face millions recognized instantly. The carefully crafted image his agency spent years building. None of that existed here. Not in our apartment. Not in the quiet blue light before dawn. Here, he was just Ethan. My husband. And he was currently wrapped in eighty percent of the blanket while I froze beside him. I reached over and tugged it back. Nothing happened. I pulled harder. Still nothing. Without opening his eyes, Ethan tightened his grip. I stared at him in disbelief. "Seriously?" A sleepy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I had it first." "You were asleep." "I can multitask." His voice was rough from sleep, and despite myself, I smiled. This was the Ethan nobody else knew. Not the polished actor who knew exactly where to look when cameras flashed. Not the charming celebrity who could make an interviewer blush with a single smile. Just a stubborn twenty-five-year-old man who refused to share blankets. "You're impossible." "And yet you married me." My smile faded slightly. The words weren't meant to hurt. They never were. But lately, every reminder of our marriage came with a quiet ache. Three years. We had been married for three years. Not a single wedding photo existed online. No anniversary posts. No rings. No public acknowledgment. The world believed Ethan Vale was single. Sometimes, I wondered if part of him had started believing it too. Ethan finally opened his eyes. The amusement disappeared immediately. "You did it again." "What?" "That thing where you disappear into your head." I looked away. The ceiling suddenly became very interesting. "I'm just tired." It wasn't entirely a lie. The last few months had been exhausting. His schedule had become brutal. Award shows. Commercials. Interviews. Film shoots. And because I was both his wife and his assistant, I lived every second of it alongside him. Ethan sat up slowly. The blanket slipped to his waist. "You're working too much." I almost laughed. That was rich coming from him. "I'm your assistant." "You're also my wife." There it was again. That strange pain. Because he only seemed to remember that second part when we were alone. I forced a smile. "And you're my biggest client." He frowned. For a second, I thought he might say something more. Instead, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. The moment shattered. Work. Always work. Ethan grabbed the phone and checked the screen. His expression changed instantly. Not dramatically. Just enough for me to notice. Years of loving someone teaches you their smallest habits. "What is it?" I asked. "Nothing." Which meant it was definitely something. I watched him type a quick response before setting the phone down. Then he leaned over and pressed a kiss against my forehead. The gesture was familiar. Automatic. Affectionate. Yet somehow it felt different lately. Like a habit he'd performed so many times that he no longer thought about it. "I have an early meeting," he said. "I know." "You'll be there?" I raised an eyebrow. "I literally organize your schedule." "Right." A small smile appeared. For a moment, things felt normal again. Then he stood and disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the apartment. I remained in bed. Alone. Staring at the ceiling. The strange thing about loneliness is that it doesn't always happen when you're by yourself. Sometimes it happens while lying beside the person you love most. By seven-thirty, Ethan was transformed. Designer suit. Perfect hair. Watch worth more than my first car. The actor was back. He stood near the kitchen island drinking coffee while scrolling through messages. I packed my laptop into my bag. "You have the investors' meeting at nine," I reminded him. "Mm." "The script reading starts at eleven." "Mm." "The magazine interview was moved to three." Another distracted hum. I sighed. "You aren't listening." That got his attention. He looked up. "I heard everything." "You always say that." "Because I always do." I narrowed my eyes. "What time is the interview?" His confidence vanished. I folded my arms. "Exactly." Ethan laughed. A real laugh. The kind I heard less often these days. He walked around the counter and stopped in front of me. Too close. My heartbeat betrayed me immediately. It was embarrassing that after seven years, he could still do that. "You're cute when you're annoyed." "I'm not cute." "You definitely are." "Ethan." His grin widened. Then his phone rang again. And just like that, the moment ended. I stepped back first. He answered the call. Work reclaimed him. It always did. The headquarters of Vale Entertainment occupied thirty floors of glass and steel in the center of the city. Most employees greeted Ethan before they noticed me. I was used to it. He was the star. I was the assistant carrying his schedule. The elevator opened on the twenty-third floor. People immediately rushed toward him. Managers. Publicists. Producers. Stylists. Everyone wanted something. Everyone needed five minutes. Everyone acted like their request was urgent. I moved quietly through the chaos. Invisible. Efficient. Forgettable. Just the way I preferred it. Mostly. By lunchtime, my desk was buried beneath contracts. I was halfway through reviewing them when someone knocked on my office door. "Lia." I looked up. It was Maya, one of the publicity coordinators. Her expression was strange. Excited. Nervous. The kind of expression people wore before delivering news. "What happened?" Maya walked inside and closed the door. "You haven't heard?" A knot formed in my stomach. "Heard what?" She sat down. "The production team finally confirmed the female lead." I relaxed slightly. That was hardly important. Actors changed projects all the time. "Okay." Maya blinked. Then she laughed. "Oh." "What?" "You really don't know." Know what? The knot returned. Slowly. Patiently. The way storms gather before they break. Maya leaned forward. "The female lead is Rose Bennett." The world stopped. Not dramatically. No crashing sound. No shattered glass. Just silence. A terrible, suffocating silence. Rose Bennett. I hadn't heard that name in years. Not properly. Not out loud. Not from someone standing three feet away. For a second, I couldn't breathe. Maya continued talking. Something about ratings. Chemistry. Public excitement. I heard none of it. Because one memory had already surfaced. A seventeen-year-old Ethan standing beneath a school staircase. Watching another girl. Smiling at another girl. Wanting another girl. Before he ever looked at me. Before he ever loved me. Rose. His first love. The girl who left. The girl who broke his heart. The girl he never talked about anymore. My fingers tightened around the edge of the desk. Maya finally noticed my expression. "You okay?" I forced myself to smile. Professional. Always professional. "Of course." The lie tasted bitter. Maya seemed unconvinced. "They're starting promotional shoots next week." Next week. That soon. A strange feeling settled deep in my chest. Not jealousy. Not yet. Something quieter. Something colder. Instinct. The kind that whispers before disaster arrives. I glanced through the glass walls of my office. Across the floor, Ethan stood surrounded by executives. Confident. Successful. Smiling. Completely unaware that a ghost from his past had just stepped back into his future. And somehow... I couldn't shake the feeling that mine was about to change too.