Chapter 5
633words
The scene before me was shocking, even to someone like me who'd fallen on hard times. I'd still grown up with privilege.
A narrow alley barely wide enough for my car, lined with ramshackle buildings packed together like rotting teeth. The air reeked of garbage and mildew. Under sickly yellow streetlights, stray cats prowled through overturned trash cans.
My Mini Cooper looked as out of place here as a diamond in a coal mine.
“I'll get out here,” he said.
“Let me take you to your door,” I insisted, eyeing the surroundings warily.
“No need.” His refusal was firm as he stepped out of the car.
He gave me a brief nod goodbye, then turned and disappeared into the labyrinthine darkness of the alley.
I sat there staring after him long after he'd vanished, trying to make sense of it all.
This man was now legally my husband?
A mysterious man living in a slum, wearing a waiter's uniform, yet able to summon ten million dollars with a single phone call.
Eve Sullivan, have you found yourself a savior, or invited disaster into your life?
With a sigh, I pulled away from the curb.
It was nearly midnight when I reached my modest downtown apartment.
I kicked off my torturous heels and collapsed onto the sofa, too exhausted to move.
The entire evening felt like some fever dream.
I stared at the new entry in my phone—“Luke Shaw”—feeling a strange mix of emotions.
What happens now?
We were legally married, but it was just a business arrangement. He had his life, I had mine. Would we just continue like this—meeting only when necessary, then going our separate ways until the next crisis?
But Melissa and William wouldn't let this go. They'd investigate Luke's background thoroughly. If they discovered we weren't actually living together, the legitimacy of our marriage would immediately be questioned.
This wouldn't work.
If we were going to sell this charade, we needed to commit fully.
I bit my lip and made a decision.
I typed out a text to Luke Shaw.
[We're supposed to be married. Living separately will raise suspicions. I have a spare bedroom if you want it. No rent or utilities.]
The moment I hit send, I regretted it.
Was I seriously inviting a complete stranger to live in my apartment? Had I completely lost my mind?
I waited anxiously for his reply.
One minute.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
Nothing.
I laughed bitterly at myself. Of course he wouldn't agree. His place might be a dump, but at least he had his freedom there. Why would he want to move in with me and maintain this charade that could collapse at any moment? Who'd want to deal with a high-maintenance “contract wife” with a temper?
I tossed my phone aside and headed for the shower.
When I emerged, wrapped in a towel, there were still no new messages.
I sighed, unsure whether I felt disappointed or relieved.
Just as I was about to blow-dry my hair—
Ding!
My phone chimed.
A text from Luke Shaw.
I lunged for it, opening the message immediately.
One word.
[OK.]
My heart skipped a beat.
A second text followed.
[What time tomorrow?]
I stared at the screen, taking a moment to realize he was asking when to arrive.
My cheeks flushed for no good reason.
[9 AM works. Here's my address.]
I quickly typed my address and sent it.
His reply came instantly.
[Noted.]
Still terse, still economical with words.
But staring at that cold, single word, I felt a wave of panic.
I was in trouble.
Eve Sullivan, you've just invited a massive complication into your life. A handsome, mysterious, and—damn it—undeniably attractive complication.
I hugged my pillow tight, wide awake all night.
