Chapter Five: Jealous Hearts
480 Words
Two weeks later, Ella found herself at a charity art auction representing the Knight Corporation. Xander, as always, stood beside her, cool and commanding in a tailored black suit. The flash of cameras followed them everywhere they went.
But tonight, something was different.
Xander had been unusually quiet. His eyes kept darting to the corner of the room, where Ella was chatting with a young tech entrepreneur named Damien—charming, confident, and clearly smitten.
Damien leaned in and said something that made Ella laugh—genuinely, brightly.
Xander’s jaw clenched.
He turned to the bartender and muttered, “Scotch. Neat.”
⸻
Ella didn’t notice at first. She was too busy being polite, playing the role of the perfect fake wife, as agreed. But something in her peripheral vision pulled her attention—Xander, watching. No, glaring.
When she returned to his side a few minutes later, his expression was unreadable.
“Your friend seems… enthusiastic,” he said flatly.
“Damien? He’s harmless.”
Xander sipped his drink. “He doesn’t look harmless.”
Ella arched an eyebrow. “Since when do you care who I talk to?”
His tone turned sharper. “When it becomes inappropriate for my wife to flirt at a public event.”
She blinked. “We agreed this wasn’t a real marriage, remember? That I could have my own life.”
“In private, yes. In public, you’re Mrs. Knight.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m not jealous,” he snapped.
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Then why do you look like you’re ready to strangle him?”
For a second, fire flickered in his eyes, the mask slipping. But he caught himself, turned away, and said nothing.
⸻
That night, back at the penthouse, the tension followed them through the door like a storm cloud.
Ella threw her clutch onto the table. “You can’t have it both ways, Xander. You can’t demand I act like your wife in public and then treat me like an employee in private.”
“You’re forgetting why we did this in the first place.”
“Are you?” she shot back. “Because lately, you’re acting less like a businessman and more like a possessive husband.”
Silence.
He didn’t deny it.
She waited for him to say something—anything—but he simply walked past her and disappeared into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
⸻
Later that night, Ella lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The city lights flickered through her curtains. Her chest ached with confusion.
She had known the rules. She had accepted them. But somewhere along the way, those rules had started to blur. And for the first time since they signed the contract, she wondered—
Had he started to care?
And more importantly…
Had she?
- Writer
