The Subtitute Bride

Chapter 5: You Wore My Shirt?

Kaela avoided Rhys all morning.

After THAT kiss last night, she couldn't look at him without remembering how his hand felt on her waist, how his lips tasted like champagne.

She woke up early and hid in the kitchen. She was wearing an oversized white shirt she found in her closet — she thought it was part of the clothes he bought her.

She was making burnt toast when she heard his voice behind her.

"You're wearing my shirt."

Kaela jumped and turned around.

Rhys was standing in the doorway. Fresh from a shower, hair still wet, wearing only sweatpants. No shirt. His chest was... unfair. Abs, tattoos on his shoulder, water dripping down.

Kaela immediately looked away, her face burning. "W-what? No, this was in my closet!"

"It's my shirt, Kaela. From my closet. Clara must have put it in your room by mistake."

"Oh." She pulled at the hem. The shirt was huge on her, reaching her mid-thighs. "I'll... I'll take it off. Sorry."

"Don't."

Kaela froze.

Rhys walked closer, slowly. He took the burnt toast from her hand and threw it in the trash.

"You can't cook, can you?"

"I can! I'm just... distracted!"

"Because of last night?"

Kaela's heart was pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it.

"That kiss was for the press. It meant nothing. Right?" she said, trying to sound brave.

Rhys didn't answer right away. He looked at her — her bare legs, his shirt on her, her messy morning hair.

He stepped even closer. He was so close she could see the water droplets on his chest.

"If it meant nothing," he said quietly, "then why are you wearing my shirt to bed?"

"I didn't! I said it was a mistake!"

"Mmm." He reached out, not to touch her, but to fix the collar of HIS shirt that was slipping off her shoulder. His fingers brushed her skin. "It looks better on you than it ever did on me."

Kaela couldn't breathe. This was Rule Number Four broken — Don't fall in love with me. Was he trying to make her fall?

"Rhys, stop," she whispered.

He stopped. His hand dropped.

"Sorry," he said, stepping back. His cold mask was back. "I forgot. The rules. Right?"

Kaela felt disappointed. Which was stupid. She should be relieved.

"Right. The rules."

Just then, Clara, the housekeeper, rushed in with an iPad. Her face was pale.

"Sir, Ma'am... you need to see this."

On the screen was a trending article.

BILLIONAIRE RHYS ANDERSON'S SUBSTITUTE BRIDE EXPOSED! SHOCKING TRUTH: HE BOUGHT HIS WIFE FOR $2 MILLION!

There was a photo of Kaela in her old apartment, wearing cheap clothes. And a photo of the contract.

Kaela's blood ran cold.

"Who leaked this?" Rhys's voice was deadly calm. The kind of calm that comes before a storm.

Clara whispered, "We don't know, sir. But it was posted an hour ago. It's everywhere now."

Kaela knew who. She looked at the article's source. An anonymous tip.

Vanessa.

Vanessa was trying to ruin her.

Rhys looked at Kaela, his jaw tight.

"Get dressed. We are going to my grandmother's. Now."

"Rhys, I didn't—"

"I know you didn't," he cut her off. But his eyes were cold again. Distant. "But my grandmother will think you did this for money and fame. And if she gets angry, this contract is over. And you get nothing."

Kaela clutched his shirt — his shirt — tighter around her.

Last night she felt like Mrs. Anderson.

This morning, she was reminded she was just a substitute who could be thrown away at any moment.