Sera's POV
"I'm not pregnant."
The words hang in Damien's apartment as I stare at the pregnancy test in my shaking hands. One line. Not two. Negative.
"You're sure?" Damien asks from the doorway.
"I took three tests. All bad." I throw them in the trash. "Someone's lying. Trying to cause trouble between us."
Relief flashes across Damien's face. Or is it disappointment? I can't tell.
"Good," he says finally. "One less complication." He checks his watch. "Your things arrived. I'll show you to your room."
Your room. Not our room. Because this marriage is fake. Business only.
I follow him through the apartment. It's massive—probably bigger than the entire Thornton house. But it feels empty. Cold. Like a hotel, not a home.
"This is yours." Damien opens a door to a bedroom that's twice the size of my old flat. "Private bathroom through there. Closet's already filled with clothes in your size. My assistant handled it."
I step inside. Everything is white and gray. Modern. Expensive. Lifeless.
"Where's your room?" I ask.
"Other end of the hall. You won't even know I'm here." His tone is businesslike. "House rules: we keep separate spaces. No going into each other's rooms without permission. In public, we act like a married couple. In private, we're business partners. Clear?"
"Crystal clear." I try not to feel hurt. This is what I signed up for. A fake marriage for payback.
So why does it sting that he wants nothing to do with me?
"I have calls to make," Damien says. "Order whatever you want for dinner. Account's set up under your name." He turns to leave.
"Damien?"
He stops. "Yes?"
"Thank you. For everything. I know I didn't say it before, but—"
"Don't thank me yet." His face is unreadable. "Wait until we win."
Then he's gone, leaving me alone in this beautiful, cold room that's supposed to be my new home.
I'm unloading my single suitcase—all my worldly possessions—when Maya bursts through the front door two hours later.
"Are you INSANE?" she screams, storming into my room without knocking. "You married a stranger! A wealthy stranger! Without telling your best friend!"
"I texted you—"
"A text that said 'Getting married, explain later' doesn't count!" Maya's face is red. "Sera, what are you thinking? You don't know this man!"
"He's helping me get revenge on the Thorntons." I hang up a shirt in the huge closet. "He's giving me everything I need to destroy them."
"And what's he getting in return?" Maya crosses her arms. "Nobody helps someone out of pure goodness. Especially not billionaires."
"He's my half-brother. He wants justice for our father—" "So he says. " Maya sits on my bed. "But you only have his word for that. Have you done a DNA test? Checked his story? Verified anything?"
My hands still. "You think he's lying?"
"I think you're vulnerable and desperate, and he showed up at the perfect moment with perfect answers." Maya's voice softens. "I'm not saying he's definitely lying. I'm saying you should be careful."
She's right. I've been so focused on payback that I haven't questioned anything Damien told me.
"I'll ask for a DNA test," I say.
"Good." Maya pulls out her phone. "Also, I did some digging. Damien Cross's first wife? Sarah Chen? She did die in a car crash five years ago. But here's the weird part—the police report was sealed. No public probe. Case closed within forty-eight hours."
"That doesn't necessarily mean anything suspicious—"
"It means someone powerful wanted it buried fast." Maya shows me her screen. "I have a friend who works in records. She said there were inconsistencies in the crash report. Brake failure, just like your parents. But no follow-up probe."
My stomach twists. "You think Damien—"
"I think we should know who we're dealing with." Maya stands. "I'm not saying don't trust him. I'm saying check everything. Promise me."
"I promise."
After Maya leaves, I sit in my expensive bedroom in my fake husband's apartment, feeling more alone than ever.
My phone buzzes. Another text from an unknown number: "How does it feel living in a dead woman's home? Sarah picked out all the furniture. Damien kept everything exactly the same. Ask yourself why he needs you to play house in her room. - Friend " I look around the room with new eyes. The calm colors. The lifeless furniture. Everything so carefully picked but completely empty of personality.
Is this really what Sarah picked out? Is Damien trying to replace his dead wife with me?
Before I can fall further, Damien knocks on my open door.
"Dinner's here," he says. "I ordered Chinese. Hope that's okay."
We eat in awkward silence at his huge dinner table. The food is wonderful, but I can barely taste it.
"Can I ask you something?" I finally say.
"Of course."
"Did Sarah decorate this place?"
Damien's fork stops halfway to his mouth. "Why would you ask that?"
"Just curious. It feels very... planned. Not lived in."
"Sarah hired a decorator." His voice is carefully bland. "I haven't changed anything since she died."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm never here long enough to care." Damien sets down his fork. "This is just a place to sleep between work trips. It's not a home."
"Then why did you bring me here? Why not a different property?"
His dark eyes study me. "Because this one has the best security system. Twenty-four-hour guards. Cameras everywhere. The Thorntons can't touch you here."
It makes sense. Perfect sense.
So why do I feel like he's hiding something? "The DNA test," I blurt out. "Can we do one? Just to prove we're actually related?"
Damien doesn't look shocked. Or upset. He just nods. "I'll arrange it tomorrow. Should have suggested it myself."
"You're not mad?"
"Why would I be mad? You're being smart." He stands, collecting plates. "Trust needs to be earned, Sera. I haven't earned yours yet."
After dinner, I return to my room and call Maya.
"He agreed to the DNA test," I tell her. "No hesitation."
"That's good. That's a good sign." But Maya still sounds worried. "Sera, I need to tell you something. About Adrian."
My chest tightens. "What about him?"
"He's been calling me. Begging me to give him your new number. Saying he needs to explain everything. That the Thorntons threatened to destroy you if he didn't marry Vanessa."
" He already explained at the press conference—"
"He says there's more. Things he couldn't say publicly. Things about why the Thorntons really wanted him away from you." Maya stops. "He says Damien isn't who he claims to be."
My blood runs cold. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know. Adrian wouldn't say over the phone. He wants to meet you. In person. Tomorrow."
"No. Absolutely not. I'm done with Adrian—"
"Just hear me out." Maya's voice is anxious. "What if he knows something we don't? What if there's truth to these fears about Damien? Wouldn't you want to know before it's too late?"
I look at my closed bedroom door. Damien is somewhere on the other side, in this huge apartment that feels like a museum to his dead wife.
"Fine," I whisper. "Set up the meeting. But you're coming with me."
"Obviously." Maya sounds relieved. "Tomorrow at noon. The coffee shop on Fifth Street. Public place, lots of people. Safe."
After we hang up, I lie in bed looking at the ceiling, my mind racing.
Anonymous texts warning me about Damien. Adrian saying he has information. Maya's fears. The secret police report about Sarah's death.
What if I've escaped one trap only to walk right into another?
My phone lights up with one final text: "Since you're wondering: Damien Cross is many things. A brother. A protector. A liar. But most importantly? He's the one who cut your parents' brake lines. Ask him about the life insurance policy that made him a billionaire. Sweet dreams in Sarah's bed. - Friend"