MARRIED TO THE BILLIONAIRE

chapter 2

Katrina pov

what is Stacy trying to do , I asked my self,The weight of the previous night still hung heavily in the air, a thick, suffocating cloud of anxiety that I just couldn't shake. I looked at Cove as he stood by the bedroom window. The thought of the other Stacy—the real identity I was wearing like a borrowed coat—returning from Paris was eating me alive.

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"Promise me," I said, my voice cracking slightly as I stepped closer to him, wrapping my arms tight around his waist. I buried my face in his chest, needing to feel the solid, real beat of his heart. "Promise me that no matter what happens, we are not leaving each other."

Cove looked down at me, his eyes softening with that deep, unwavering devotion that always made my chest ache. He wrapped his arms securely around my shoulders, anchoring me to him. "I promise, babe. Nothing is going to separate us. I'm right here."

Hearing him say it eased the panic, if only a little. With a small nod, I stepped back and went into the dining room to set the table. We ate dinner together in a comfortable, quiet rhythm, trying to push the ghost of my namesake out of our minds, before heading to bed early.

The next morning, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains. I woke up before the alarm, the lingering exhaustion of my fever finally starting to clear. Turning over, I watched Cove sleeping peacefully beside me. I closed my eyes and offered a silent, fervent prayer—for our marriage, for our safety, and for the strength to face whatever storm was brewing.

Once my prayers were done, I slipped quietly out of the sheets and headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I was determined to go to work today; I couldn't let fear keep me hiding at home forever. Fortunately, Cove and I worked at entirely different companies, which gave me a small sense of security. Looking out the kitchen window while the coffee brewed, I saw the driver outside, already finishing up washing Cove's car, the morning dew glistening on the hood.

By the time breakfast was laid out on the table, I was showered, dressed, and ready for the corporate world. Cove had just woken up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Breakfast is ready, love!" I called out, smoothing down my skirt.

We ate together, sharing small smiles and light conversation to keep the tension of yesterday at bay. Once we were both fully dressed and ready to face the day, we walked down to the driveway. Cove turned to me before stepping into the backseat of his car. He leaned down, pressing a warm, lingering kiss to my lips.

"Be careful today, alright?" he whispered, his eyes scanning my face.

"I will, don't worry," I replied with a reassuring smile.

I watched as the driver started the engine and drove him out of the gates. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to my own car, unlocked it, and headed out into the morning traffic toward my office.

The workday passed in a blur of emails, meetings, and standard corporate distractions, but my mind was constantly drifting. The moment the clock struck closing time, I didn't head home. Instead, I gripped the steering wheel and drove straight to Tania’s mother's house. Tania's mom had become a pillar of support for me, the only one in the family who truly understood the mess we were in.

When I arrived, the front door opened, and the anxiety I'd been suppressing all day came rushing to the surface.

"Mom," I started without even greeting her properly, my voice tight with urgency. "Cove told me yesterday... he said your daughter came to his office. She was there looking for a job."

The older woman froze, her eyes widening in absolute shock. "What?! Yes?!" she gasped, clutching her chest. "But... I thought she was in Paris with Max!"

"I don't know, Mom," I replied, pacing the floor of her living room, my hands shaking. "That's what he told me. She came to his company."

Tania’s mother immediately grabbed her laptop, her brow furrowed in deep confusion and worry. "Let’s check. Let’s see what’s going on."

We sat side by side, pulling up flight records, social media updates, and the private network channels she used to keep track of her daughter. After checking through everything thoroughly, we both stared at the screen in utter bewilderment. The digital footprint, the check-ins, the banking logs—they all explicitly showed that she was indeed still in France. In fact, she had been rooted in Paris for the last two weeks with no record of an international flight back home.

If the records showed she was still in Paris, then who on earth had walked into Cove's office yesterday claiming to be Stacy?

The realization hit me like a bucket of ice water. She hadn't legally returned, but she was pulling strings. Or worse, she had slipped back into the country entirely undetected.

*Is she back to take her identity?* I asked myself, the thought spinning wildly in my head. *Is she coming to reclaim the life, the name, and the husband she don't want to marry before?*