Chapter 2: Married, Do Not Disturb
1990 Words
For several seconds, Dominic forgot how to breathe.
The private lounge had gone completely silent.
His friends stared at the phone in his hand, their earlier laughter frozen on their faces.
Then the call ended.
Dominic looked down at the dark screen.
A violent heat surged through his chest.
He rose so abruptly that his knee struck the low table. A crystal glass tipped over and shattered against the floor.
“Dominic?” someone asked carefully.
He called Maren back.
Once.
Twice.
The calls went straight to voicemail.
His jaw tightened.
One of the men leaned forward. “Was that really Maren?”
Dominic turned on him with a look sharp enough to silence the room.
“She’s trying to make me jealous.”
The explanation came quickly, almost automatically.
It had to be true.
Maren had never been able to ignore him for long. She had built her entire life around pleasing him. When he was tired, she brought food. When he was angry, she apologized even when she had done nothing wrong.
A woman like that did not suddenly stop loving a man.
She especially did not choose someone else.
His friend glanced at the phone. “That sounded pretty convincing.”
“It was a recording.”
Dominic heard the certainty in his own voice and clung to it.
Another man gave a hesitant laugh. “Still, she’s married now. Maybe she finally decided to act like it.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“Maren never wanted that marriage.”
She had cried when the Beaumont family told her about the old agreement. She had said she loved him. She had promised that signing a certificate would not change anything between them.
Lucian Ravenscroft was only a husband on paper.
Dominic was the man she truly wanted.
That fact had always been enough.
Until tonight.
“She’ll come back,” he said.
He picked up his drink, then realized the glass was gone.
“She always does.”
No one answered.
Across the city, Maren closed the video and lowered the volume on her laptop.
A pleased smile spread across her face.
“That,” she told the empty room, “was remarkably effective.”
The woman before her had once answered Dominic’s call while lying alone in a hospital room. He had made sure she heard another woman laughing beside him, then accused her of being possessive when she cried.
Tonight, Maren had simply returned the favor.
No actual affair.
No lies involving Lucian.
Just one humiliating lesson delivered through a speaker.
She turned from the desk—and stopped.
Lucian stood near the doorway.
He had changed out of his suit. His dark shirt was open at the collar, and his damp hair suggested he had just showered.
His expression revealed nothing.
Maren slowly looked at the laptop.
Then at him.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.”
Her confidence vanished.
“You heard that?”
“I heard part of it.”
That was somehow worse.
Maren opened her mouth, considered three different explanations, and rejected all of them.
“It wasn’t what it sounded like.”
Lucian glanced at the paused image on the screen.
Maren followed his gaze and immediately shut the laptop.
“I can explain.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
His calm tone only deepened her embarrassment.
Lucian continued, “You’re an adult. What you watch in private is none of my business.”
Maren stared at him.
He thought she had been watching it for herself.
Of course he did.
That was the obvious conclusion.
“I wasn’t—”
She stopped.
Any attempt to clarify would require explaining Dominic, the phone call, the original story, and why she had chosen adult audio as revenge.
There were no words that would improve this situation.
“Thank you for being very mature about this,” she said.
Lucian’s gaze rested on her face for a moment.
“You seem disappointed.”
“No. Mortified.”
A faint shift touched his eyes.
It disappeared before she could decide whether it had been amusement.
Maren stepped toward the hallway, determined to retreat with whatever dignity remained.
She turned into the first open room.
Lucian’s voice came from behind her.
“That is my bedroom.”
She stopped again.
The suite was unmistakably masculine. Dark wood, gray fabric, no personal clutter, and absolutely nothing that belonged to her.
“Right.”
She backed out.
“My room is the other way.”
“Yes.”
“I knew that.”
“You did not.”
Maren closed her eyes for half a second.
“This evening has been very long.”
Lucian said nothing.
She escaped into the hallway and found her own room without further disaster.
Once the door closed behind her, she leaned against it.
She had survived waking inside a novel, discovering a prison sentence in her future, and facing a billionaire husband.
Yet an overheard video had almost defeated her.
Her phone vibrated.
A message from Dominic appeared on the screen.
You made your choice tonight. Don’t come crying to me when you regret it.
A second message followed.
If you’ve been with another man, we’re done.
Maren read both messages twice.
Then she laughed.
Dominic was publicly pursuing Arabella. He had deceived the original Maren, taken her money, hidden her from his friends, and expected her to remain loyal while he chose someone else.
Yet he still believed he had the authority to judge her.
Maren typed a reply.
I’m married. You’re the other man now.
She added a second line.
Do not contact me again.
Then she blocked his number.
The action should have felt dramatic.
Instead, it felt clean.
One problem removed.
Unfortunately, another appeared the moment she checked the original Maren’s bank account.
The available balance contained only two digits.
Maren sat down on the edge of the bed.
“No.”
She refreshed the page.
The number did not change.
Fragments of memory surfaced.
Rent Dominic claimed he could not afford.
Meals he promised to repay.
Emergency transfers.
A watch he said was fake.
A scooter he had bought for Maren using her own card, then presented as proof of his devotion.
The Maren he remembered had given him nearly everything she earned.
Dominic had accepted it while spending his real money on Arabella.
Maren fell backward onto the mattress.
She was legally married to one of the wealthiest men in the country and personally could not afford a decent dinner.
The irony was almost impressive.
She lifted her phone above her face.
The marriage agreement might cover housing and formal expenses, but she had not read it. She did not know what belonged to her, what required permission, or what would happen if Lucian ended the arrangement.
Depending entirely on him would be foolish.
She needed a salary.
Savings.
Assets no one could take from her.
“Please,” she whispered to the ceiling. “Let me wake up tomorrow with money.”
Outside her room, Lucian slowed.
The door was not fully closed.
Through the narrow gap, he saw Maren stretched across the bed, staring at her phone as though it had personally betrayed her.
“Just a little money,” she murmured. “Enough to stop living like one inconvenience away from disaster.”
Lucian’s gaze sharpened.
The Beaumont family had insisted their daughter understood the responsibilities of the marriage. They had also implied she had been properly provided for.
Apparently, that had not included financial security.
He continued down the hall without announcing himself.
The next morning, Maren entered the breakfast room expecting another quiet, formal meal.
Instead, an older man in a perfectly tailored dark suit waited beside her chair.
He appeared to be in his early fifties, with composed features and the calm posture of someone who had managed powerful people for years.
“Good morning, Mrs. Ravenscroft,” he said. “I’m Arthur Bennett.”
Maren recognized the name from the novel.
Arthur had served the Ravenscroft family for most of his adult life. He handled the household, confidential arrangements, and apparently every crisis no one else knew how to solve.
“Good morning.”
Arthur placed a slim folder beside her plate.
“Mr. Ravenscroft asked me to give you this.”
Maren opened it.
Inside was an account card in her name and several pages outlining access conditions.
She scanned the first page.
Then read it again.
“This account has one million dollars in it.”
Arthur smiled politely. “That is the current balance.”
“Current?”
“It will be replenished according to the terms of your marriage arrangement.”
Maren looked across the table.
Lucian sat at the other end, reading a financial report as though nothing unusual had happened.
She lowered her voice.
“Do I need approval before using it?”
“No.”
“Do I submit receipts?”
“Not for ordinary personal expenses.”
“What qualifies as ordinary?”
“Clothing, travel, professional expenses, social obligations, charitable contributions, and personal projects within a reasonable range.”
Maren looked back at the number.
A million dollars was apparently a reasonable range.
Arthur continued, “Formal household expenses are handled separately. This account is entirely under your control.”
Maren felt something inside her relax.
Dominic had taken her salary and returned promises.
Lucian had asked for nothing and given her security.
She looked at him again.
He finally lifted his eyes from the report.
Their gazes met.
Maren knew she was staring, but she could not help it.
Lucian’s expression remained neutral.
“Is there a problem?”
“No.”
She placed one hand over the folder as though someone might take it away.
“I was just reconsidering my opinion of this marriage.”
Arthur’s eyebrows rose slightly.
Lucian set down the report.
“And what is your current opinion?”
Maren smiled.
“That the benefits package is excellent.”
Silence followed.
Then Arthur coughed into his hand.
Lucian studied her, perhaps trying to determine whether she was joking.
She was not.
Not entirely.
This marriage was still a contract. Lucian remained a distant stranger with enough power to destroy her if she betrayed him.
But he had also given her more respect in one day than Dominic had offered throughout their entire relationship.
Maren could work with that.
Her phone rang before Lucian responded.
The screen displayed Mother.
Maren’s good mood cooled.
She answered.
Her mother did not ask about her marriage, her health, or whether she had settled into the Ravenscroft residence.
“You’re coming to Skyline House for lunch,” the woman said. “We’re celebrating Elise’s new position.”
Maren’s fingers tightened around the phone.
Elise had joined the same design company that had fired the original Maren after the theft accusation.
“How fortunate for her.”
“Don’t start,” her mother snapped. “This is Elise’s day. Dress appropriately, and do not create another scene.”
The old memories were not hers, but the pain attached to them still lived in this body.
Elise crying over a missing necklace.
The jewelry appearing inside Maren’s bag.
Theo gripping her shoulder and demanding an apology.
Her parents refusing to listen.
Elise reporting the matter to Maren’s employer until the scandal cost her the job.
“Maren?” her mother said. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“We’re celebrating Elise today. Try not to make everything about you for once.”
The call ended.
Maren lowered the phone.
Arthur stood nearby, waiting with professional discretion.
She looked at him.
“I need something appropriate for lunch.”
“How appropriate?”
Maren glanced at the account folder, then toward Lucian.
“Appropriate enough to remind them I’m no longer the daughter they can humiliate.”
- Writer
