The Marriage He Thought Was Fake (The Revenge Affair-Book 2)

I stood at the door, staring at Adrian. "I think you should leave."

He didn't move. "Your mother asked me to make sure you got home safely."

"I don't need you to make sure I'm safe."

His expression remained calm. "Caleste."

"I'm serious."

He studied me for a moment.

Then he nodded. "All right."

He turned toward the hallway. I thought that was the end of it. Then he stopped. "Dinner tomorrow?"

I stared at him. "There's not going to be a dinner tomorrow."

"We'll see."

My jaw tightened. "There's nothing to see."

He looked at me for another second before finally walking away. I didn't wait until he reached the elevator. I slammed the door shut. The sound echoed through my apartment.

I leaned against it and closed my eyes. For a few seconds, I simply stood there. My grandfather was dead. My mother had decided who I was going to marry. And the man I'd secretly loved for five years had just congratulated me on it.

My phone rang. I looked at the screen. Mother.

I didn't answer. The call ended. A message appeared almost immediately.

Mother: Call me.

Mother: Why did you send Adrian away like that?

I stared at the screen. Another message arrived.

Mother: Don't make this difficult, Caleste. You and Adrian need to marry soon.

I laughed bitterly. Even now, she was more concerned about the engagement than the fact that I had just buried my grandfather. I called her anyway. She answered on the first ring.

"Finally."

"Grandfather has been dead for less than a day."

"I know."

"Then why are you already planning my wedding?"

"Because your grandfather left the company to you."

"He left me a company. Not a husband."

"Without the Beaumont family, you may not be able to keep it."

I closed my eyes. "Is that all you care about?"

"This isn't about feelings."

"Of course it isn't."

"Caleste-"

"I need time."

"You don't have time."

I opened my eyes. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then I said quietly, "Goodnight, Mother."

"Caleste, wait-"

I ended the call. Then I turned off my phone. Silence finally returned to me. But instead of relief, all I could hear was Sam's voice. "Anyway, congratulations, Caleste."

And somehow, those two words hurt more than anything my mother had said.

I tried to sleep. I pulled the blanket over my head. Sam had never promised me anything. He had never told me he loved me. The problem wasn't Sam. The problem was me. I had spent five years building a love story inside my own head and somehow expected him to know the script.

By morning, my eyes were burning from exhaustion. I turned my phone back on. Thirty-seven messages. Most were from my mother. I deleted them without reading. Then I got dressed and went to work. Because apparently, inheriting a billion-dollar company didn't give me permission to fall apart.

Horizon Global was already busy when I arrived. People moved through the lobby with coffee cups and phones pressed against their ears. The screens displayed financial reports. Employees rushed toward elevators. Everything was normal.

I hated it. My grandfather had died yesterday. Yet the world kept moving. I walked toward the elevator. Then I stopped mid air.

Sam was there. He was leaning against the reception desk, talking to one of the junior analysts. He spotted me halfway through the conversation.

His face immediately brightened. "Morning."

I forced my feet to keep moving. "Morning."

His eyes swept over my face. Then his smile faded. "You didn't sleep."

I looked away. "Not much."

He reached behind him and picked up a coffee. "Here."

I stared at it. My usual.

"You got this for me?"

"You always get this when you have an early meeting."

I took the cup. "Thanks."

He studied me for another second.

"You should've stayed home."

"I have work."

"You also have a funeral hangover."

I gave him a tired look. "That isn't a thing."

"It is now." A small smile tugged at his mouth.

I almost smiled back. Almost.

He picked up a folder from the desk. "Vance wants the Harrington figures checked before the afternoon meeting. I already went through the first draft. There's one number I'm not convinced about."

He handed it to me.

I looked down at the folder. "You checked it?"

"Last night."

"You went through it after driving for four hours?"

He shrugged. "You were supposed to review it with me yesterday."

I looked at him. He remembered. Five years ago, Vance had assigned Sam to mentor me when my grandfather placed me at Horizon.

At first, I had hated having someone constantly looking over my shoulder. Sam had never treated me like an inexperienced heiress. He taught me. Argued with me. Corrected me when I was wrong. And, eventually, became the person I trusted most in the building.

Now he was standing in front of me with the same patient expression he'd had on my first day.

"There's also a meeting with Vance at eleven," he continued. "I'll sit in with you."

"I can handle it."

"I know." He smiled. "I'm sitting in anyway."

I raised an eyebrow. "Still trying to mentor me?"

"Five years and you still need supervision."

I almost laughed. "There it is."

"What?"

"That annoying confidence."

"You're welcome."

He started walking toward the office. I followed him. Halfway there, he glanced back.

"And eat something."

"I will."

"So I've been told." He smiled and disappeared into the office.

I stood outside for a moment. That was Sam. He didn't know he was breaking my heart. He was simply being Sam. And somehow, that made it worse.

By ten, I had already lost my patience.