Aria only had one suitcase. In the apartment she shared with two roommates, she sat on her small bed and gazed at the open luggage as if it could provide answers. Her phone buzzed. What did you bring when you moved into your unintentional husband's penthouse? Business casual, pajamas, a weapon? An unknown number sent a text. In twenty minutes, the car will arrive.

Be ready 2PM, type yes if you are seeing this." Just an order.

Without checking, Aria tossed clothes into the suitcase. Pants. Sweaters. The lovely blouse she wore during her job interview. Underwear that was undoubtedly intended only for her eyes. She reached for her phone charger, laptop, and the little wooden box containing her grandmother's only pictures.

After nineteen minutes, she watched a black Mercedes pull up to the curb while holding her pitiful suitcase on the sidewalk. Another vehicle. Same motorist. He gave her a nod, picked up her bag as if it were light, and held the door open.

"Miss Hale." Apparently, it's now Mrs Mercer. She didn't like the taste of the words. The driver's face remained the same. Naturally, ma'am. "It seemed strange to drive through Manhattan. The streets were clogged with evening traffic, but the Mercedes managed to get through every time.

They went by eateries that Aria had never been able to afford, shops that she had only perused from the window, and a lifestyle that existed in parallel to hers but never came into contact with.

Until now.

Aria recognized the building from architecture magazines as the car pulled into an underground garage. The highest point. Starting at fifteen million dollars, luxury condos are available. She had once estimated that to pay the down payment, she would need to work for 200 years.

"This way, ma'am. The driver guided her to a private elevator that required a key card. He swiped his, hit the penthouse button, and took a step back.

"Mr Mercer is expecting you. Before Aria could inquire as to whether that was a warning or just basic information, the doors closed. The elevator ascended. Aria attempted to slow her heartbeat as she watched the numbers rise.

This was temporary. For six months, she could survive anything. The penthouse was directly accessible from the elevator. When Aria went outside, she lost her breath. Three sides of the room were filled with floor-to-ceiling windows that provided movie-quality views of Manhattan.

As the sunset painted the sky pink and orange, lights started to twinkle in the sprawling city below. White marble floors, contemporary furniture in grey and black tones, and artwork that was likely worth more than her college degree were all part of the interior's elegant design.

It was lovely. It was chilly. It didn't feel like home at all. "You're late. "Aria whirled around. Still wearing his earlier suit, but with his sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened, Leon stood in the doorway of what appeared to be the kitchen. He seemed to belong in a magazine spread about strong men and their ideal lives, even in casual settings.

"The text said twenty minutes. I was ready at nineteen."

Traffic isn't an excuse. He didn't even look at her suitcase as he walked past her and toward the windows. "Down that hallway is your room. On the right, the third door. The last door is my room. Keep out of it. "I had no intention of going to your bedroom.

"Okay. He used the bar cart by the windows to pour himself a drink. Didn't give her one, though. "There is food in the kitchen. Give yourself anything you desire. Tuesdays and Fridays are when my housekeeper comes. If you put your laundry in the hamper, she will take care of it. Aria blinked.

"You have someone do your laundry?" "You don't?" "I use a washing machine like a normal person." Leon's eyes cut to her. "You're not a normal person anymore. You're married to me. That comes with certain... adjustments."

The way he said "married" made it sound like a prison sentence. "What else do I need to know?" Aria asked. "Any other rules? Curfews? Off-limits areas?" "Don't touch anything in my office. Don't answer the door without checking with me first. Don't bring anyone here without permission." "Anyone?" "Friends. Family. Lovers. Whatever."

He had a long sip. "I own this house. You're not a roommate; you're here as a necessity. "Every word fell like a tiny cut. Aria silently took them in, just as she had learned to take in her sister's casual cruelty and her mother's criticisms. "I see. I'm unwelcome cargo occupying space. "At last, we understand one another.

Leon ignored her and turned back to the windows.

Grabbing her suitcase, Aria wheeled it down the corridor he had pointed out. It was a huge penthouse. Before reaching her designated bedroom, she passed a home gym, an office with more books than her neighbourhood library, and what appeared to be a media room. She stopped after pushing open the door.

The space was larger than her whole present apartment. The room was dominated by a king-size bed with white linens that most likely cost more than her rent each month. Views of Central Park were provided by additional floor-to-ceiling windows. A whole wall of built-in closets was vacant and unoccupied.

The attached bathroom featured a glass-enclosed shower with roughly seventeen shower heads in addition to a soaking tub. It was flawless. It was isolating. Aria unzipped her suitcase after placing it on the bed. Spread across all that pricey white fabric, her meagre possessions appeared pitiful. Three pairs of jeans. Five sweaters.

Two sets of shoes. A strip of duct tape held her three-year-old laptop together.

Her life was like this. Tiny. Unforgettable. Simple to fit into a single suitcase. She had always told herself that she didn't give a damn about things, money, or status. However, Aria felt the distance between her world and Leon's world yawn open like a chasm as she stood in this room that cost more than all of her possessions put together.

It makes sense why he believed she was after his money.

She jumped when she heard a knock on the doorframe. What more could someone like her want from someone like him? Leon was standing there with an unreadable expression. "I'm placing a dinner order. In response, Aria's stomach growled, "What do you want?" Since breakfast, she had not eaten. "I don't have any preferences. That is not an answer.

"Whatever you're eating is acceptable. Leon's jaw clenched. I am having sushi masa. The cost of the omakase is approximately $400 per person.

"Are you still okay?" Aria's face heated up. "I'll prepare a sandwich. "Stop being absurd. "I'm not being unreasonable. I'm being realistic. Four hundred dollars' worth of sushi is beyond my means. You don't have to pay for it. Yes, I am. "I'm not interested in your charity. It's not charity. It's dinner.

Leon studied her with those piercing grey eyes as he leaned against the doorframe. "Aria, you'll need to adjust to this. You'll eat what I eat, dress appropriately for someone in my social circle, and go to events that I go to while you're here. That's the agreement.

"I was supposed to pretend to be a loyal wife in public. You made no mention of altering my private identity. "Your public persona is influenced by your private identity. He moved away from the doorframe. "My assistant will take you shopping tomorrow. You will require the proper clothing for the benefit gala next week."

"I have clothes." "You have..."

Something flickered across Leon's face as his gaze swept over her open suitcase. Surprise? Pity? Before she could recognise it, it disappeared. "You'll need something suitable. "I am not your dress-up doll. "No. You are my wife. Additionally, my spouse must appear as though she is a part of my family rather than as if she came in from a thrift store at college.

"He delivered the insult as intended. To keep him from seeing how much it hurt, Aria turned away and busied herself with unpacking. "I'll dress in what I own. Perhaps you shouldn't invite me to your fancy parties if that makes you feel uncomfortable. "Quiet. Then footsteps, getting closer rather than farther away.

Leon stopped right behind her.

She was close enough to smell his expensive, woodsy cologne once more, which most likely had a pretentious name like "Midnight in the Alps" or something equally absurd. "Look at me. "Aria continued to watch her suitcase. "I'm busy. Aria. "He lowered his voice.

Not quite gentle, but less sharp. "Look at me." She turned. Mistake.

This room felt much smaller than it had just moments before, and he was too close. "I'm not trying to insult you," Leon stated. "I'm attempting to get you ready for what you're about to walk into. These individuals-the ones at dinner parties, galas, and benefits-are sharks.

Anyone who exhibits weakness will be torn apart by them. And wearing a fifty-dollar dress when everyone else is dressed in designer gowns? That's a sign of weakness. "I should therefore act like someone I'm not. "You ought to defend yourself. His gaze swept over her face. "I don't want to see you humiliated, whether you believe me or not.

"Just controlled." "Guided," he corrected.

"There's a difference." "Not from where I'm standing." Leon exhaled, a sound caught between frustration and something else. "You're stubborn." "You're arrogant." "I'm realistic." "You're impossible." A smile touched his lips. Just a flicker, gone so fast, Aria wondered if she'd imagined it. "Get settled. Dinner will be here in forty minutes. We'll eat in the dining room.

Try to look..." He trailed off. "Like I belong here?" Aria finished. "Like I'm not an unwanted accident you're stuck with?" The smile vanished completely. "Like my wife." He left, and Aria sank onto the bed, her legs suddenly shaky. This was going to be impossible.

Forty minutes later, Aria was standing in the doorway of the dining room, wearing a clean sweater and her finest jeans after taking a shower. Her hair hung in waves past her shoulders, still damp. She had been too shaken to bother applying makeup.

A table that could easily accommodate twelve people already had Leon seated at its head. He had changed into a charcoal cashmere sweater that likely cost more than her entire closet, along with dark slacks. His hair remained wet as well. To get ready for this weird, forced domesticity, they had both taken showers in their separate bathrooms. "Take a seat. He pointed to the chair on his right, not the opposite end of the table.

Close enough to talk. Aria sat.

The sushi was already arranged on exquisite ceramic dishes with flawless, artistic-looking fish. She was at a loss for what to do. Leon noticed her hesitation. "Have you had omakase before?" "I've had sushi from the grocery store. It's not sushi.

That is not sushi. He picked up his chopsticks with ease, the result of practice. "Work your way up to the richer flavours, starting with the lighter fish, like this. He gave an example, and Aria attempted to imitate him. At best, she had mediocre chopstick skills.

She carefully lifted a piece of what appeared to be tuna that she had managed to grab. and- It fell, right onto the white tablecloth. Aria's face burned. "Sorry. I'll clean-"Leave it." Leon's voice was firm but not harsh. "Try again." "I'm terrible with chopsticks." "Then practice." He slid a piece onto her plate using his own chopsticks.

"Use your fingers if necessary. It isn't a crime. "Aria used her fingers to pick up the sushi, feeling like a savage. However, as soon as she bit into it, a buttery, fresh flavour that was unlike anything she had ever tasted exploded across her tongue. "Yes.

She didn't have time to stop the sound. Leon's expression changed. "Excellent?" "Yes. Aria was having trouble speaking. "It's perfect. "Better than a sandwich?" she asked, glaring at him. Don't be arrogant. "I'm not being smug. I'm telling the truth. There's a difference. "Aria's mouth twitched despite everything. "You are still impossible. You're still stubborn. "He took another piece. "But you were right about one thing.

"What?"

"I'm just as much to blame as you are. Across the table, Leon's eyes locked with hers. "I ought to have examined the documents. When you attempted to explain, I ought to have paid attention. I took it out on you because I was rushing and upset about the entire arrangement. Halfway to her mouth, Aria's chopsticks froze. Did Leon Mercer truly offer an apology? "That doesn't mean I think you're innocent in all this," he went on.

However, I'm prepared to acknowledge that I also made mistakes. "The apology wasn't flawless. It came with qualifications and conditions.

However, it went beyond what Aria had anticipated from him. "Thank you," she murmured. "For saying that. Leon gave a single nod before returning to his meal. For a few minutes, they ate in silence. It should have been uncomfortable, but for some reason it wasn't. The food was too delicious.

The view outside the windows is simply breathtaking. Even if the other person was a stranger she had unintentionally married, there was something almost serene about eating with them. Aria put down her chopsticks and said, "Can I ask you something?" "It depends on the question. "I believe you didn't even know Ariana, so why did you consent to marry her? "Leon's face tightened.

"It was a business arrangement. Her father's company needed capital. My company needed the merger.

The easiest way to ensure both was through marriage. "I've never heard anything so unromantic." Romance is reserved for those who can afford to act foolishly. "His tone became icy.

"I tried romance once. It nearly destroyed everything I built." Vanessa. He was talking about Vanessa. "Not everyone is like her," Aria said softly. "No. Some people are worse." Leon's eyes found hers. "They pretend to be innocent. They make you think they're different. And then they take everything." The accusation hung between them.

"I'm not taking anything from you," Aria declared. "All I want is to make it through the next six months and regain my life. Leon reclined in his chair and asked, "What life?" "The one where you run errands for a sister who doesn't appreciate you, wear clothes from thrift stores, and share an apartment with roommates?"

"That's my life." It's real. It is genuine. It's small. "Compared to his previous insults, this one struck her more forcefully. Because there was a part of her that, despite her best efforts to ignore it, agreed with him.

Her life was small. Safe. Invisible.

As she had always been. According to Aria, "not everyone needs a penthouse and a seven-figure bank account to be happy." "No. However, everyone has the right to be more than a doormat. She was immobilized by Leon's stare. "You are treated as though you are invisible by your family.

Your sister abandons you to deal with her messes. And you just... accept it. Why?" "You don't know anything about my family." "I know you came alone to deliver wedding documents for a sister who didn't bother to show up. I know you have one suitcase of belongings. I know you apologize for existing." He leaned forward. "I know someone taught you that you don't matter. And I want to know why you believed them." Aria's throat tightened. How did he see so much?

"Because it was easier than fighting," she muttered. "How did he look at her for one day and understand things she'd spent years trying to hide?" "Because perhaps they would love me at last if I made myself small enough. "The admission lingered between them. Leon's face softened.

Just barely. Just enough. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," he said. But his voice was gentle. "People don't love you more when you're small. They just take up more space." Aria blinked back tears she refused to let fall. "Then what do you suggest?" "Take up space." Leon picked up his glass. "Be loud. Be inconvenient. It would be impossible to ignore." "Like you?" "Like someone who knows her worth."

He drank. "Even if that person is now unintentionally married to a man who finds her intolerable. "Aria laughed despite everything, including the terrible day and the tears that were welling up in her eyes. Unexpected and somewhat hysterical, it exploded out of her. Leon gazed at her as if she had gone insane. Which increased her laughter.

"What's funny?" "This." Aria wiped her eyes. "All of this. We're complete strangers having marriage counseling over four-hundred-dollar sushi in a penthouse that costs more than my hometown. It's absurd." Leon's lips twitched. "It's definitely not how I planned to spend my evening." "Me neither."

Unashamed, Aria picked up another piece of sushi with her fingers. However, I must say that the food makes it a little less awful. Highly commendable. Keep it from getting to your head. "When they were done eating, Leon didn't make her feel bad about using her fingers, or choosing the incorrect pieces, or not knowing how to eat ginger correctly. They stood awkwardly in the dining room after he called his housekeeper to clean up. "Well," replied Aria.

"Thanks for dinner. It was... educational."

Marcus will deliver documents for you to sign tomorrow morning. Confidentiality clauses, prenuptial agreements, the usual.

Right. Back to business. Back to reality. "Of course," replied Aria. "I don't want anyone to believe that this is true. Leon's face flickered with something. It has nothing to do with that. It's about keeping us both safe. Yes. Aria made her way to her room. "Goodnight, Leon." "Aria."

She paused and turned around. "For what it's worth. Leon stuffed his hands into his pockets. "You made it through today. Strength is required for that. It was the closest thing to a compliment he had offered her. Like a lifeline, Aria clung to it. "See you in the morning," she said. She shut herself off in her lovely, solitary room and allowed herself to cry at last.

Not because Leon was cruel. But because, for just a moment at dinner, he'd been kind. And somehow, that was so much worse.

For a glorious moment, Aria forgot where she was when she woke up to sunlight pouring through windows that reached the ceiling.

Then reality set in.

Leon's penthouse. Leon's rules. Leon's world.

It was 7:47 AM on her phone. Throwing in sheets that most likely cost more than her security deposit, she had hardly slept at all. Every time she closed her eyes, she heard Leon say, "People don't love you more when you're small," and saw his face across the dinner table.

Her stomach rumbled. Coffee. Before confronting whatever new nightmare this day had in store, she needed coffee.

When she came out of her room in her pajamas-worn cotton shorts and an oversized college t-shirt-the penthouse became silent. On the chilly marble flooring, her feet were bare. She followed the aroma of something dark and delicious as she padded toward the kitchen.

Leon was already wearing another flawless suit as he stood at the espresso machine. This time, it's navy, a clean white shirt, and no tie yet. The shower had left his hair wet. He appeared as though he had just stepped out of a cologne commercial.

It was as if Aria had crawled out of a trash can.

"Good morning," she said, lingering in the doorway.

Leon gave her a quick look. His gaze moved from her dishevelled bedhead down her bare feet, staying there for a few moments before returning to her face.

"Coffee?" Without waiting for her response, he took out a second cup from the cabinet.

"Yes. Please. Thank you." "Pick one. You don't need all three."

Aria suppressed a grin. "Coffee, please."

He made it the same way he did everything else, using exact, effective motions that gave the impression that he had done it a thousand times.

Their fingertips touched as he gave her the cup. Only just barely. Just enough to give her arm an unanticipated jolt.

Aria almost spilled the coffee as she pulled back.

Leon arched an eyebrow.

"Careful." "Sorry. Just... tired." "The guest room wasn't comfortable?" "The guest room is perfect. I just don't sleep well in new places." Aria took a sip and nearly moaned. The coffee was perfect-rich and smooth with just a hint of sweetness.

"This is really good." "It's coffee. Not a religious experience." "You clearly haven't had bad coffee." "I don't have bad anything." He leaned against the counter, coffee cup in hand, studying her like she was a puzzle he couldn't solve. "Marcus will be here at nine with the paperwork." Right. The prenup. The contracts. The legal proof that this was all business.

"What kind of paperwork, exactly?"

"Prenuptial agreement, despite the fact that it is currently post-nuptial. Provisions protecting confidentiality. Financial disclosures. The typical.

"I don't want your money, Leon."

"So you keep saying."

He took a long drink. "Sign the papers anyway. It protects both of us." "From what?" "From you trying to claim half my fortune when this ends. From me trying to control yours." His eyes held hers. "Neither of us is trying to use this mistake for profit." Aria set her cup down carefully.

"I don't have a fortune to protect." "Don't you?" The question hung in the air, loaded with something Aria couldn't quite identify. Did he know? Had he researched her? Discovered that she was actually the Hale heiress, not just the forgotten daughter? No. Impossible.

That secret had been buried too deep for too long. "I have about three thousand dollars in savings," Aria said. "A used car that barely runs. Student loans I'll be paying off until I'm fifty. That's my fortune." Leon's expression flickered. "Then the prenup will be simple. What's yours stays yours. What's mine stays mine. When we divorce, we both walk away clean." "Sounds perfect." "It's practical." He pushed off the counter. "Marcus will explain everything. Read it carefully before you sign."

"I will."

Leon reached over to the back of a chair and retrieved his suit jacket. "All morning, I have meetings. At eleven, Sophia, my helper, will arrive to take you shopping."

"I told you I don't need-" "And I told you that you do." His voice went firm. "This isn't negotiable, Aria. The gala is in five days. You need appropriate clothing. Sophia has excellent taste and my credit card. Let her help you."

"I don't want to be in debt to you."

"You have no debt. You're carrying out the conditions of our contract." Leon tucked himself into his jacket. "Everyone wins if you play the part convincingly. We'll both be miserable for the next six months if you fight me over every little thing."

He was correct. Aria detested the fact that he was correct.

"All right. Sophia and I are going shopping.

"Thank you." Leon started for the elevator but stopped.

"And Aria?" "Yeah?"

"Make an effort to appreciate it. Most women enjoy using other people's money.

Although his tone was more playful than nasty, the remark nevertheless hurt. The elevator doors closed, and he was gone before Aria could reply.

Wearing her tattered pajamas and sipping his flawless coffee, she stood by herself in his enormous kitchen, wondering how her life had become so utterly bizarre.

At precisely nine o'clock, Marcus showed up with a leather briefcase and an overly optimistic smile.

"Mrs. Mercer." He placed the briefcase on the dining table.

"How was your first night in the tower?"

"Weird. Uncomfortable. Expensive." Aria had changed into jeans and a sweater, at least. "How do people live like this?" "You get used to it." "I don't want to get used to it." Marcus's smile softened. "I like you. You're different from the usual crowd Leon deals with." "You mean I'm poor."

"I mean, you're real." He produced a pile of papers.

"The post-nuptial agreements are these. In essence, they specify parameters for the future breakup of the marriage, financial separation, and confidentiality restrictions.

Aria took a seat and began to read. Although the legalese was complicated, the purpose was obvious: Leon intended to ensure she couldn't exert any influence over his finances, business, or reputation. Her assets, ridiculous as they were, stayed hers in return.

There were clauses about public appearances. About maintaining the appearance of a happy marriage. About not speaking to the press without approval. About social media restrictions.

The actual knife was hidden on page seven: In the event of pregnancy, additional legal proceedings will determine custody arrangements, and genetic testing will be necessary to verify paternity.

Aria felt her stomach flip. "He thinks I might try to trap him with a baby?"

Marcus had the grace to appear uneasy. "Leon had previously been tormented. Vanessa once claimed to have been pregnant. Tried to use it to coerce him into getting married. Proved to be a falsehood.

"I'm not Vanessa."

"I am aware of that. You are aware of that. Leon is still getting used to it. Marcus bent over. "Look, I'm not attempting to justify him. This is brutal at times. However, he is defending himself in the only way he can.

"By assuming the worst of me." "By preparing for every possibility." Marcus pulled out a pen. "You can negotiate any terms you want.

This isn't set in stone." Aria flipped through more pages. Everything was designed to keep them separated, isolated, untangled. Like Leon was already planning his escape before they'd even started. "What if I said no? Refused to sign?" Marcus considered her carefully. "Then Leon would assume you're planning to take him for everything you can get.

It would confirm all his suspicions. And it would make the next six months a living hell for both of you." "So I don't actually have a choice." "You always have a choice. But some choices have better outcomes than others." Marcus met her eyes. "Sign the papers, Aria. Protect yourself. And maybe... give him a chance to see who you really are." Aria picked up the pen. Her hand hovered over the signature line.

This felt like giving up. Like accepting that she'd always be the girl no one believed in, the one who had to prove she wasn't a liar or a schemer or a gold-digger. But what was the alternative? Fight Leon for six months? Let him treat her like an enemy? She signed.

Marcus witnessed her signature, gathered the documents, and stood. "For what it's worth, I think you're making the right choice."

"Doesn't feel right."

"Give it time." He turned back after making his way to the elevator. By the way, Sophia is pleasant.

Let her spoil you a little. God knows Leon could afford to be less of a control freak and more of a decent human being." Despite everything, Aria laughed. "Does he know you talk about him like this?" "He encourages it. Says I keep him honest." Marcus grinned.

"See you around, Mrs Mercer."

The elevator doors shut, leaving Aria by herself once more.

She gazed out the window at the expansive metropolis. Her actual life-her job, her roommates, her meagre existence-was somewhere out there. It seemed so far away.

It buzzed on her phone. An unknown number sent a text.

Hello, Aria. This is Leon's helper, Sophia. I'll be there to take you shopping at eleven. I'm eager to meet you!

This catastrophe at least thrilled someone.

In fancy heels, Sophia proved to be a cyclone.

At precisely eleven, she rushed into the apartment, full of vitality, genuine warmth, and blonde highlights. She was perhaps thirty years old, and her carefree style made Aria feel like a crumpled potato.

"Oh my God, you're even prettier than Leon described!" Sophia embraced Aria as if they were longtime companions. "This is going to be so fun!"

"Leon described me?" Stunned, Aria asked.

"Well, he said you needed a complete wardrobe overhaul and that I should take you to the best boutiques in the city and not let you say no to anything." Sophia took hold of Aria's hand. "Between you and me, I think he feels bad about the whole mistaken marriage thing."

"He has a funny way of showing it."

"Leon humorously expresses all of his feelings. It's like witnessing a glacier trying to feel emotions. She was drawn to the elevator by Sophia.

"But trust me, I've worked for him for three years. If he didn't care, he wouldn't have called me personally at seven this morning to make sure I took care of you." That stopped Aria cold. "He called you at seven?" "Woke me up, actually. Very demanding about making sure you had 'everything you needed' for the gala."

Sophia had a knowing smile. "He's worried about you, even if he'd rather die than admit it."

Aria attempted to take it all in as the elevator fell. Was Leon concerned? Concerning her?

No. His reputation was a concern about how she would appear standing beside him.

This was just that.

"Where are we going?" As they got into a town vehicle that was waiting, Aria asked.

"Everywhere." Sophia had mischievous sparkles in her eyes. "I am aware of a few exclusive stores, like Saks and Bergdorf's.

We'll get you gala-ready and then some. Oh, and Leon said to bring you everyday clothes too. Something about you needing more than one suitcase's worth of belongings." Aria's face burned. He'd noticed. Of course, he'd noticed. "I don't need much-" "Aria." Sophia turned serious. "Can I be honest with you?" "Please."

"Leon has dated numerous ladies, as far as I can tell. Heiresses, socialites, and models. They all desired financial gain, social standing, or connections from him. They all engaged in gaming. She gave Aria's hand a firm squeeze. "He has never contacted me at seven in the morning to ask if I would be okay with you. You two are different, regardless of what this arrangement is or what brought you two together. So allow me to assist you. Not for him. For you.

Aria's throat tightened at the earnestness in her voice. "Okay."

"Excellent!" Sophia's enthusiasm came back. "Tell me everything now. Which style do you prefer? What gives you a sense of beauty? Which hues are your favourites?

Aria found herself conversing with Sophia as if they were friends for the next twenty minutes. About her time in college, her work in marketing, her passion for mystery books, and awful reality TV. Sophia answered questions, smiled when it was appropriate, and listened as if everything mattered.

Aria felt almost... normal by the time they arrived to Bergdorf's.

With its marble, mirrors, and salespeople who appeared to have stepped off a runway, the store was daunting. Sophia, however, pulled dresses, blouses, and slacks with practiced ease, moving around the space as if she owned it.

"Try these." She gave Aria an armful of clothing. "Avoid examining the price tags. Just pay attention to how they make you feel.

Aria's bedroom in her previous apartment was smaller than the dressing room. She nearly retreated as she gazed at herself in the three-way mirror while still wearing her sweater and slacks.

Then she recalled what Leon had said: "Take up space." Make a noise. Be hard to ignore.

She tried on the first piece of clothing.

It was sleeveless, made of emerald-green silk, and had a neckline barely noticeable. Aria hardly recognized the woman staring back at her when she looked in the mirror.

She looked... elegant. Sophisticated. Like someone who belonged in Leon's world. "Let me see!" Sophia called from outside. Aria stepped out. Sophia's eyes went wide. "Oh. Oh wow." She circled Aria slowly. "That's the one. That's your gala dress." "It's too much." "It's perfect." Sophia met her eyes in the mirror.

"You look like you could own the whole room." Aria turned, watching the silk catch the light. For the first time since this nightmare started, she felt something other than small and trapped. She felt powerful. "We're getting it," Sophia declared. "And about fifty other things. Leon's orders."

The following three hours were spent in a flurry of shops. Sophia's taste was flawless; she chose things that somehow balanced Leon's world's demands with Aria's aesthetic. Silk blouses, fitted jeans, casual cashmere sweaters, and three additional dresses for different occasions.

And footwear. So many shoes.

"I can't possibly need all this," Aria protested as they loaded shopping bags into the car.

"You're Mrs Leon Mercer now. This is just the beginning." Sophia grinned. "Wait until you see the jewelry Leon has planned for the gala."

"Jewelry?" "Oh yeah. He has a whole vault of family pieces. His grandmother's collection. Ancient money, very traditional." Sophia's phone buzzed. She checked it and smiled. "Speaking of which, Leon wants to know how it's going." "What did you tell him?" Sophia typed quickly and showed Aria the response: She's perfect. Stop worrying. "You told him to stop worrying?" "Someone has to." Sophia hit send.

"He must relax. You might be beneficial to him.

Aria was at a loss for words. For a man who hated her, how could she be good?

Around four, they went back to the penthouse. Aria felt overburdened once more as Sophia assisted in carrying up the numerous luggage.

Sophia remarked, "I'll help you organize everything," as she made her way to Aria's room. "We'll get it all put away and-oh."

She had paused in the doorway, gazing at Aria's open bag that remained on the bed.

At the small pile of worn clothes. At the duct-taped laptop. "Aria." Sophia's voice went soft. "This is everything you brought?" "I travel light." "This isn't traveling light. This is..." Sophia turned to her, and there was no pity in her eyes.

Just understanding. "This is someone who's been making herself small." The words hit like an arrow. How did everyone keep seeing through her? "I'm fine." "You're surviving. That's different from fine." Sophia set down the bags. "But you know what? That ends today. We're putting all this new stuff away, and you're going to walk around this penthouse like you own it. Because legally, you kind of do." Despite herself, Aria smiled. "I like you, Sophia." "Everyone does. It's my superpower."

She took the emerald garment out. "Now let's make sure Leon's jaw drops when he sees you in this."

They organized everything for the next hour. Sophia had a system in place: work attire here, leisure attire there, and a gala ensemble at the forefront. She meticulously hung everything, giving Aria's wardrobe a magazine-like appearance.

Sophia took a step back to appreciate their work when they were finished. "Much better.

Now you look like you belong." "Do I, though?" Sophia faced her. "The thing with belonging is that it's not about the address, the money, or the clothes. It involves determining whether or not you are worth the space you occupy. She gave Aria a shoulder squeeze. Even though Leon is too obstinate to acknowledge it, he sees it. He is very defensive because of this. You frighten him.

"I frighten him? He is a CEO with billions of dollars in assets.

"And you're the woman who accidentally became his wife and didn't immediately fall at his feet begging for his approval." Sophia smiled. "Trust me, that terrifies him."

Before Aria could answer, the elevator chimed.

Leon's voice echoed along the corridor. "Sophia? Are you still around?

"We're in Aria's room!" Sophia returned the call.

Footsteps approached. Still in his suit, but with his top button undone and his tie loose, Leon materialized in the doorway. He looked across the room, taking in the shopping bags, the entire closet, and Aria standing in the center of it all.

"I see you had a productive day," he remarked.

"Sophia has excellent taste." His inspection made Aria feel uneasy all of a sudden.

"Sophia has my credit card and no self-control." However, the words lacked any heat.

"I stayed within the budget you gave me," Sophia objected. "Barely."

"I'm sure." Leon's gaze returned to Aria. "Did you get something for the gala?"

"The most beautiful dress you've ever seen," Sophia responded on her behalf. "She's going to steal the show."

"It's not necessary. She just needs to look appropriate." "She'll look stunning," Sophia corrected. "Which is better than appropriate."

Leon's face twitched with something. "I'm sure she will."

Although his words were informal, his gaze on Aria wasn't. There was a noticeable, swiftly banked heat there.

Aria's heart began to race.

Sophia responded, "I should go," and picked up her purse. "Leon, treat your wife with kindness. If you need anything, text me, Aria. I'll see you both at the gala, too.

Leon and Aria were left alone in the bedroom with their new clothes and unspoken tension as she walked out.

"Thank you," Aria muttered. "For sending Sophia, for the clothing. I am aware that you believe I am pursuing your money, but-"

"I don't think that anymore."

Aria jerked her head up. "What?"

Leon stepped further into the room, hands in his pockets. "I had you investigated last night. Background check, financial records, the works." Her stomach dropped. "You what?" "It's standard procedure for anyone entering my life." His eyes held hers. "You have three thousand dollars in savings, like you said. Student loans. A job at a small marketing firm where you're underpaid and overworked.

No criminal record. No history of scams or schemes." Aria's face burned with humiliation and rage. "So you spied on me." "I protected myself.

There is a distinction.

"No, there isn't!" Anger overcame caution as she approached him. "I was treated like a criminal by you. Looked at me as if I were a threat. Because one woman broke your heart, you are unable to trust anyone else.

Leon clarified, "One woman tried to destroy my life," in a firm voice. "Forgive me for being careful."

Careful ask questions. This is paranoia."

"This is survival." The air between them crackled with energy as he drew nearer. "You want to know what else I found out, Aria?"

"What?" Refusing to give up, she raised her chin.

"You're quite intelligent. Your GPA on your college transcripts is flawless. You are multilingual. With a marketing plan you created, you alone prevented your existing business from going bankrupt." His gaze blazed into hers. "You're not a defenceless victim. You're capable and intelligent, yet you're totally wasted in that small flat with those unappreciative housemates."

Aria's rage wavered. "You... you think I'm brilliant?"

"I think you're dangerous." Leon's voice faltered. "Because it becomes more difficult for me to continue detesting you as I learn more about you. And, Aria, I must despise you. This is the only way it can function.

The honest and unvarnished confession sat between them.

"Why?" Aria whispered. "Because if I stop hating you..." Leon's jaw clenched. "Then this becomes real. And I can't afford real. Not again." He turned and walked out, leaving Aria standing in her new closet full of expensive clothes, her heart racing and her mind spinning. Leon Mercer had just admitted she was dangerous. And somehow, that felt like the most honest thing anyone had ever said to her.

Aria was elbow-deep in work emails when the penthouse elevator chimed.

She looked up from her laptop, confused. Leon wasn't supposed to be back until seven, and Sophia had left hours ago. The security system should have alerted her if someone was coming up.

The elevator doors opened.

A tiny woman dressed in a Chanel suit stepped out, followed by two men carrying luggages.

She had white hair styled in an elegant up-do, her sharp blue eyes scanning everywhere, and the kind of posture that suggested she'd been trained to walk with books on her head. Diamonds glittered at her throat and wrists-not flashy, just casually worth more than most people's houses.

"Well," the woman said, her voice crisp and carrying. "You must be the girl who finally trapped my grandson."

Aria's mouth fell open. "I-what-I didn't trap-"

"Relax, dear. I'm teasing." The woman waved the luggage men toward one of the guest rooms. "I'm Elena Mercer. Leon's grandmother. And you're Aria, the accidental wife who has my grandson tied in knots."

"Mrs. Mercer, I can explain-"

"It's Elena, darling. And there's nothing to explain. I've already heard twelve different versions of the story from twelve different people." Elena moved to the windows, surveying the view like she owned it. Which, Aria supposed, she kind of did. "I came to see for myself. See what kind of woman manages to marry a Mercer without even trying."

Aria set her laptop aside and stood, suddenly very aware she was wearing leggings and an oversized sweater with a coffee stain on the sleeve. "Leon didn't tell me you were coming."

"Leon doesn't know I'm coming." Elena's smile was pure mischief. "I have a key. And unlike my uptight grandson, I believe in surprises."

"He is going to be furious."

"Leon is always furious about something. Makes life interesting." Elena turned those sharp eyes on Aria, assessing her from head to toe. "Hmm. Not what I expected."

"I get that a lot."

"I expected someone harder. More calculating. The type who would plan a marriage trap." Elena moved closer, studying Aria's face like she was reading a book. "But you have kind eyes. Sad, but kind. And you are scared of me, which means you are smart."

"I am not terrified."

"You are gripping that throw pillow like it's a life raft." Elena gestured at Aria's hands. "Let it go, dear. I do not bite. Much."

Aria released the pillow and forced herself to breathe. "Would you like some coffee? Tea? Leon has this whole bar cart thing"

"Whiskey. Neat. The good stuff, not whatever swill Leon keeps for guests."

Aria blinked. "It's four in the afternoon."

"Is there a rule about when I can drink in my own grandson's penthouse?" Elena settled onto the couch like a queen claiming a throne. "Besides, I'm seventy-six. I have earned the right to drink whenever I damn well please."

Despite her nerves, Aria smiled. She poured two fingers of what looked like expensive scotch and brought it to Elena.

"Aren't you having any?" Elena asked.

"I don't usually drink in the afternoon either."

"Suit yourself." Elena took a sip and made an approving sound. Now sit. Tell me everything. And don't lie-I can smell a lie from three blocks away.

Aria perched on the edge of the opposite couch. What do you want to know?

"Did you plan to marry my grandson?"

No.

"Did you know who he was when you signed those papers?"

"I knew his name. I didn't know... him."

"Do you love him?"

The question hit like a punch. "I barely know him."

"That's not what I asked."

Aria met Elena's eyes. No. I don't love him. I am not even sure I like him most of the time.

Elena's face broke into a delighted smile. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

"That is perfect?"

Every other woman who has chased Leon claimed to love him within five minutes of meeting him. Love his money, love his power, love his face." Elena waved her hand dismissively. "You are honest. That is refreshing."

"He doesn't think I'm honest. He thinks I'm a gold-digger."

Leon thinks everyone's a gold-digger. His father thought everyone was trying to steal from him. His mother thought everyone was lying." Elena's expression softened. Paranoia runs in the family and so does stubbornness. And a regrettable tendency to push away anyone who might actually care about them.

Aria didn't know what to say to that.

Tell me about your family, Elena said, changing direction like a chess player moving pieces. The Hales. Old money, new scandal. Your sister was supposed to marry Leon, right?

Ariana. Yes.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know. She disappeared the morning of the wedding. Sent me a text saying she had an emergency." Aria's hands twisted in her lap. "I went to deliver her documents and somehow ended up married instead."

And your parents? What do they think of all this?

Aria's laugh was bitter. "They don't know yet. I've been avoiding their calls."

"Why?"

"Because they'll blame me. They always do." The words spilled out before Aria could stop them. Ariana is the favorite. "The perfect daughter." I am just the one who handles things when she can't be bothered."

Elena's eyes sharpened. "How long have they made you feel invisible?"

The question was so direct, so painfully accurate, that Aria's throat closed. "My whole life."

"And Leon? Does he make you feel invisible too?"

Aria thought about it. About Leon's intensity, his attention, the way he looked at her like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "No. He sees me. He just doesn't like what he sees."

Nonsense. He is terrified of what he sees. Elena finished her whiskey and set the glass down with a decisive click. That boy has been alone for too long. Built too many walls. Trusted too few people. And then you stumble into his life and accidentally become the one thing he can't control.

"I'm not trying to control anything."

"Exactly. That's why you're dangerous to him." Elena leaned forward. "Can I give you some advice, Aria?"

"Please."

"Do not apologize for existing. Do not make yourself smaller to make him comfortable. And for God's sake, don't let him treat you like you're temporary." Elena's voice went fierce. "You're a Mercer now, whether it was planned or not. Act like it."

Before Aria could respond, the elevator chimed again.

Leon's voice carried down the hallway before he appeared. "Whose luggage is" He stopped dead when he saw Elena. "Grandmother. What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my grandson and his new wife. Is that a crime?"

"You cannot just show up unannounced."

"I'm seventy-six and worth two billion dollars. I can do whatever I want." Elena stood, somehow still commanding despite being a foot shorter than Leon. "Besides, someone had to meet this girl. You certainly weren't going to introduce us properly."

Leon's jaw clenched. His eyes cut to Aria. "What did she say to you?"

"That I'm dangerous and should stop apologizing for existing," Aria said honestly.

Elena beamed. "I like her, Leon. She listens."

Grandmother,

"Don't 'grandmother' me in that tone. I taught you better manners." Elena moved toward Leon and patted his cheek like he was six years old. "Now, I'm staying for dinner. I assume you were going to order something ridiculously expensive and unsatisfying. I've already called my chef. He will be here in an hour with real food."

"This is my home."

"And I'm your grandmother. Family trumps property rights." Elena sailed past him toward the guest wing. "I'll be in my usual room. Don't bother me until dinner. I need to rest after enduring traffic."

She disappeared down the hallway, leaving Leon and Aria alone in the living room.

Leon looked like he'd been hit by a truck. "I'm sorry. She's... a lot."

"I like her."

His head snapped toward Aria. "You do?"

She's honest, direct, does not pretend to be something she's not. Aria stood, gathering her laptop. "Plus she called me dangerous. I'm taking that as a compliment."

"It wasn't a compliment. It was a warning."

"To who? You or me?"

Leon moved closer, and that electricity crackled between them again. "Both."

They stood there, too close and too far apart at the same time. Aria could see the silver flecks in his gray eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands flexed like he wanted to reach for her but wouldn't let himself.

"Your grandmother is staying for dinner," Aria said, her voice coming out quieter than intended.

"Apparently."

"Should I... dress up? Change? I don't know the protocol for dinner with your family."

You're fine as you are. Leon's eyes traveled over her-the messy bun, the coffee-stained sweater, the leggings. "She already likes you. That is more than most people get."

"Why do you sound upset about that?"

"I am not upset."

"You're definitely upset."

Leon's jaw clenched. My grandmother is the most perceptive person I know. If she likes you, it means she sees something in you. And if she sees something... He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "It makes this harder."

"Makes what harder?"

"Keeping my distance. Remembering this is temporary." He looked at her, and the raw honesty in his eyes stole her breath. "Remembering I am not supposed to care."

The confession hung between them.

"Leon-"

"I need to change for dinner." He turned away, shutting down. We eat at seven. Try not to let my grandmother interrogate you too much.

He disappeared into his room, leaving Aria standing in the living room with her heart racing and her mind spinning.

Leon Mercer had just admitted he was starting to care.

And somehow, that was more terrifying than anything else that had happened.

Dinner was chaos in the best possible way.

Elena's chef had brought enough food to feed twelve people-roasted chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, glazed vegetables, fresh bread, and a chocolate torte that made Aria's mouth water just looking at it.

They sat at the massive dining table, Leon at the head, Elena to his right, Aria to his left. The seating arrangement felt significant, like Elena was forcing them into some kind of family unit.

This is delicious, Aria said after her first bite of chicken. Your chef is incredible.

Henri has been with me for thirty years. He knows my tastes. Elena turned to Leon. When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal, darling?

I eat at home.

You order takeout and eat over your laptop. That is not a meal. That is fuel. Elena speared a piece of chicken. "This is a meal. Shared with people who matter."

Leon's fork paused halfway to his mouth. Subtle, Grandmother.

"I'm seventy-six. I do not have time for subtle." Elena turned to Aria. "Tell me, dear. What do you do for work?"

"I work in marketing. Small firm, mostly local businesses." Aria felt Leon's attention on her. "Nothing exciting."

Do not downplay yourself. Marketing is storytelling, and good storytellers are rare. Elena's eyes gleamed. Leon told me you saved your company from bankruptcy with a single campaign. That is not nothing.

Aria's head snapped toward Leon. "You told her about that?"

Leon's expression was carefully neutral. "I may have mentioned it."

He called me yesterday specifically to tell me about it, Elena corrected. Went on for ten minutes about your strategy and execution. Very impressed, for someone who claims not to care.

Leon's face flushed. I was providing context.

You were bragging about your wife. Elena's smile was wicked. It was adorable.

"Grandmother."

What? Am I not allowed to embarrass my grandson at dinner? That is half the fun of being old. She turned back to Aria. He also mentioned you speak three languages. Which ones?

"English, Spanish, and French." Aria was still processing the fact that Leon had bragged about her. I studied abroad for college.

"Impressive. Leon barely speaks English properly, and that's his first language."

"That is not true."

"You grunt and glare at people. That is not communication, darling." Elena reached over and patted his hand. But you're learning. I can tell. Aria is good for you.

We barely know each other.

And yet you investigated her thoroughly. Called Sophia at seven in the morning. Told her to be especially kind. Elena's eyebrow arched. Do not bother denying it. Sophia and I had lunch today.

Leon looked like he wanted to sink through the floor. "You two are conspiring against me."

We are helping you, you stubborn child. Elena turned to Aria. "Has he shown you the family jewelry yet?"

"He mentioned something about it for the gala."

"The Mercer collection. Five generations of heirlooms. Very traditional. Very..." Elena waved her hand. "Old. But there is one piece you should wear. The emerald necklace."

Leon went very still. The emerald necklace isn't appropriate.

"It's perfect. Emeralds will complement her coloring beautifully."

That necklace is for, Leon stopped himself.

"For what?" Elena's voice went sharp. "For family? She is family, Leon. Legally, officially family."

"Temporarily family."

The word landed like a slap. Aria's chest tightened.

Elena's expression hardened. "Nothing is temporary if you stop treating it that way."

Silence fell over the table. The tension was so thick Aria could barely breathe.

"I don't need any special jewelry," Aria said quietly. Whatever Leon thinks is appropriate is fine.

"See what you've done?" Elena glared at Leon. You've made her small again. Apologetic. Diminished. She stood, her napkin dropping onto her plate. "I did not raise you to make women feel that way, Leon Gabriel Mercer."

Leon's face went pale at the use of his full name. I am protecting-

"You are hiding. Behind walls and rules and that ridiculous prenuptial agreement Marcus told me about." Elena moved to Aria and placed her hands on her shoulders. This girl did not ask to marry you. She didn't scheme or plan or manipulate. She was doing a favor for her ungrateful sister and ended up legally bound to a man who cannot see past his own trauma long enough to recognize a gift when it is handed to him.

"Grandmother, you don't understand-"

I understand that you are scared. I understand that Vanessa hurt you. I understand that your parents' marriage was a disaster and you swore you would never be vulnerable like they were." Elena's voice gentled. "But Aria is not Vanessa. She is not your mother. She is not anyone except herself. And she deserves better than being treated like a prison sentence."

Tears burned behind Aria's eyes. No one had ever defended her like this. No one had ever fought for her worth.

"Elena," Aria whispered. "It is okay. Really."

"It is not okay." Elena squeezed her shoulders. "But it will be. I'll make sure of it."

She kissed the top of Aria's head-a gesture so maternal it broke something loose in Aria's chest-and swept from the room.

"I am going to bed," Elena called over her shoulder. "You two figure it out yourselves. And Leon? The emerald necklace. That is not a suggestion."

The guest room door closed with a decisive click.

Aria and Leon sat in ringing silence.

"I'm sorry," Leon finally said. She shouldn't have

"She was right." Aria looked at him across the table. "About all of it."

"Aria-"

"I am not Vanessa. I am not trying to take anything from you. And I am tired of apologizing for existing in your space." Aria stood, her legs shaking but her voice steady. "I didn't ask for this marriage. But I am here. And for the next six months, I am your wife. You can keep treating me like I'm temporary, or you can try treating me like I'm a person who deserves basic respect."

She walked toward her room, then stopped at the hallway entrance.

"And Leon? Your grandmother is right about one more thing."

"What's that?"

Aria looked back at him. "I'm not the one who needs to be protected. You are. From yourself."

She left him sitting alone at the table.

Aria was in bed, trying to read and failing, when a knock sounded on her door.

"Come in," she called, expecting Elena.

Leon stepped inside instead.

He was in pajamas pants and a t-shirt, the most casual she'd ever seen him. His hair was messy, like he had been running his hands through it. He looked younger. Vulnerable.

Human.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

Aria set down her book. "Sure."

Leon moved to the window, staring out at the city lights. "My parents had the worst marriage I have ever witnessed. They fought constantly. Cheated on each other. Used me as a weapon in their battles." His voice was flat, emotionless. "When I was twelve, my mother left. Just walked out one day and never came back. My father blamed me. Said if I had been a better son, she would have stayed."

Aria's heart cracked. Leon

"I swore I would never be like them. Never vulnerable. Never dependent on someone who could leave." He turned to face her. "Then Vanessa happened. And she proved I was right to build walls. Because the one time I let them down, I nearly lost everything."

"I am not Vanessa."

"I know." He moved closer to the bed. "That is the problem. Because if you were Vanessa, I could hate you and keep my distance and count down the days until this ends. But you are not. You are kind and stubborn and brilliant. You make fun of my coffee and stand up to my grandmother and refuse to be intimidated by any of this."

Aria's breath caught. "What are you saying?"

"I am saying my grandmother is right. You scare me." Leon sat on the edge of her bed, maintaining careful distance. "Because I am starting to care. And caring means I can get hurt again. And I do not know if I can survive that a second time."

The confession hung in the air between them.

Aria reached out slowly, giving him time to pull away. When he didn't, she placed her hand over his.

"I'm scared too," she whispered. "I have spent my whole life being invisible. Being the daughter no one wanted. The sister who wasn't enough. And then I accidentally marry you, and suddenly I am seen. But it's terrifying because I do not know if I am enough for this world. For you."

Leon's hand turned, his fingers threading through hers. "You are more than enough."

"How do you know?"

"Because you survived dinner with my grandmother without breaking. Most people can't handle five minutes with her." His thumb brushed over her knuckles. "And because when I watched you tonight-defending yourself, standing up to me-I realized something."

"What?"

His eyes met hers, and the intensity there stole her breath. "I do not want this to be temporary anymore."

The world tilted.

"Leon-"

"I know it's insane. I know we barely know each other. I know this started as a mistake." His grip on her hand tightened. "But maybe... maybe we could try. Actually try. See if this could become something real."

Aria's heart hammered against her ribs. "You want to stay married?"

"I want to find out if this feeling I have when I am around you is real or just proximity and circumstances." He leaned closer. "I want to know if you feel it too. This thing between us."

"I feel it," Aria breathed. "I have felt it since you first walked into that registry."

Leon's eyes darkened. "Even when I was an ass to you?"

"Especially then. You made me so angry I forgot to be small." A smile tugged at her lips. "You made me feel alive."

"Aria." Her name was a prayer on his lips.

He leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. When she didn't-when she met him halfway-his lips brushed against hers.

Soft. Tentative. Asking for permission.

Aria's hand slid into his hair, pulling him closer. Answering yes.

The kiss deepened, turning desperate. Leon's hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. Aria's other hand fisted in his shirt, holding him to her like he might disappear.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Leon rested his forehead against hers.

"We are insane," he whispered.

"Completely," Aria agreed.

"This could be a disaster."

"Probably will be."

"But we are doing it anyway?"

Aria pulled back just enough to see his eyes. "We are already married. Might as well see if we can fall in love too."

Leon's smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. "Is that a challenge?"

"It's a possibility."

"I like possibilities." He kissed her again, slower this time. Savoring. "Fair warning-I'm not good at this. The relationship thing. The feelings thing."

"Good thing I am patient."

"You really are not."

"I know. We are both going to have to learn." Aria traced his jawline with her finger. "But maybe that's the point. Maybe we are supposed to figure it out together."

Leon caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "Six months suddenly seems too short."

"We have time."

"Do we?" His expression grew serious. "The gala is in three days. People will ask questions. Your family will find out. Vanessa will make her move-she always does when I seem happy."

"Then we face it together." Aria's voice was steady. "You and me. Actually us."

"Us." Leon tested the word like it was foreign. "I like the sound of that."

"Me too."

He kissed her forehead and stood reluctantly. "I should go. Let you sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?"

Leon's smile turned wicked. "You are meeting the rest of my family. My mother arrived in the city today. She will want to inspect the woman who married her son."

Aria's stomach dropped. "You are joking."

"I really am not. She texted while I was investigating you. Demanded to meet you before the gala." He moved toward the door. "Fair warning-she makes my grandmother look warm and fuzzy."

"Leon Mercer, you cannot drop that bomb and just leave!"

"Watch me." He paused at the doorway. "Goodnight, wife."

"You are impossible!"

"And you're dangerous." He winked. "We are perfect for each other."

The door closed behind him, leaving Aria alone with her racing heart and the ghost of his kiss on her lips.

She touched her fingers to her mouth, still feeling the warmth of him.

Leon Mercer had just kissed her.

Leon Mercer wanted to try making this real.

Leon Mercer's mother was coming to inspect her tomorrow.

Aria flopped back onto her pillows and stared at the ceiling.

Her life had gone from invisible to insane in less than a week.

And the terrifying part?

She wouldn't change a single moment.