Married to my Ruthless CEO for one night

Chapter 11: Honeymoon

The press called it a "healing honeymoon".

Adrian called it "damage control".

I called it torture.

Maldives. Private villa. Ocean.

And him. 24/7.

"Smile for the cameras," he murmured at breakfast, arm around me.

The photographers on the beach clicked away.

Under the table, his hand found mine. Squeezed.

"Are we still pretending?" I whispered.

His thumb brushed my knuckles. "Are we?"

Night fell. The villa had one bedroom. One bed.

"Separate blankets," I said quickly.

"Sure," he said. And took off his shirt.

I didn't sleep.

Neither did he.

At 3AM he rolled over. "Can't sleep?"

"No."

"Me neither."

Silence. Waves.

Then: "Tell me something true," he said. "Something that isn't for the press."

I turned to face him in the dark. "I didn't plan to fall for you."

"I know," he said. "I didn't plan to want you to."

My heart stopped. "Adrian--"

"Shh." His hand came up. Tucked hair behind my ear. "We have 354 days left on the contract. Even if it's ripped."

"And after?"

He was quiet for a long time.

"After, I ask you again. For real. No contract."

Before I could answer, his phone lit up on the nightstand.

A photo.

Us. Sleeping in the same bed.

Caption: `The billionaire and his gold-digger. She’s pregnant.`

Pregnant.

We weren't.

But in 9 months, the world would think we were.

Adrian cursed. "They're trying to trap us."

He looked at me. "Will you play along?"