The morning after my wedding felt like waking up in a stranger's dream.
Or nightmare.
I blinked against the soft glow pouring through the sheer curtains. For a brief, fragile moment, I forgot where I was—until the memory came crashing down.
The wedding.
The silence.
The man with Ryker's face but none of his warmth.
Riven Hale.
My husband.
I groaned and rolled over, only to come face-to-face with a wedding bouquet sitting on the nightstand like some sort of twisted trophy. I shoved it off the table. The sound of roses hitting the floor was strangely satisfying.
I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on a plain white tee and sweatpants from my suitcase, and padded out of the guest room barefoot.
The penthouse was silent, still wrapped in shadows. It was barely past seven.
I followed the faint scent of coffee to the open kitchen—and found him there.
Riven stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, sipping black coffee, shirtless, wearing only dark gray slacks. His back was to me, and the morning light sculpted every line of his toned figure like it had something to prove.
Unfortunately, it did.
Of course he looked like that.
Of course the man I now had to live with was absurdly, unfairly hot.
"Do you always start the day shirtless or is this a special occasion?" I asked, voice dry.
He turned slowly, one brow arching. "Do you always talk this much before caffeine?"
I rolled my eyes and reached for a mug. "Well, good morning to you too, husband."
He didn't smile. "Let's get one thing straight—I'm only your husband on paper."
"I noticed," I muttered.
The silence between us thickened as I poured coffee and took a careful sip. Too bitter. Just like him.
"I'll be gone most of the day," he said. "You'll be alone here."
"Wow. That sounded almost like a warning."
"Just making sure you don't try to redecorate or burn the place down."
"Tempting," I muttered, "but I'm not that dramatic."
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "That's debatable."
I narrowed my eyes. "Look, I didn't ask for this either. So if we're stuck in this mess, the least you can do is stop acting like I'm some sort of punishment."
Riven's eyes sharpened. "You're not."
I blinked.
"You're a consequence," he added.
Ouch.
"Of what?" I asked. "Ryker's cowardice? Or something else you won't tell me?"
His jaw tightened, but he didn't speak.
I set my mug down, stepping closer. "You said last night you married me to pay off a debt. What debt?"
He stared at me for a long moment, as if deciding whether I deserved to know. Then he said, "This marriage saves my company."
I froze. "What?"
"Our family business—Hale & Thorne—has a major merger deal pending. The investors needed… insurance. A united front. Stability. A married CEO looks better on paper. Ryker was supposed to take that role."
I felt like the ground shifted under me. "But he disappeared."
"Exactly. Days before the wedding. No warning."
"And you just… stepped in?"
"I didn't have a choice," he said flatly. "If I hadn't, we would've lost everything our father built."
I absorbed that in silence. So this wasn't just about honor. It was about power. Image. Control.
"Why me?" I whispered. "Why not call off the wedding and choose someone else?"
His eyes met mine. "Because the contract was already signed. Your father wanted this alliance."
My stomach twisted. "So I'm… what, collateral?"
"An obligation," he said.
My blood boiled. "You're unbelievable."
"I'm honest."
"Well, let me be honest too," I snapped. "I may be your 'obligation', but I'm still a person. I won't be your puppet, and I won't play the silent trophy wife while you play the cold-hearted CEO."
He stepped forward, towering over me. "Good. Because I don't want a trophy. I want peace."
"Then don't start a war with me."
A pause.
Something flickered in his expression—something unreadable. He stepped back.
"Fine," he said. "We keep our distance. Stay out of each other's lives. Two strangers sharing a penthouse. Deal?"
I clenched my jaw. "Deal."
But as he walked away to get dressed, I couldn't shake the feeling that neither of us would stick to that deal for long.
Because for all his icy walls…
Something about Riven Hale burned.