Kaia gripped the handle of her silver suitcase. Her knuckles were white. She placed her other hand on the brass doorknob of her bedroom and took one last, deep breath.

She twisted the knob.

The hallway was dead silent. From the floor below, the faint, annoying sound of a reality TV show echoed from the living room, mixed with Caron and Aniya's laughter.

Kaia lifted the suitcase off the ground. She didn't want the wheels rolling on the hardwood. She walked down the stairs, her steps light and fast.

She reached the center of the grand foyer.

Aniya walked out of the kitchen, holding a glass of orange juice. She froze.

Aniya's eyes dropped to the suitcase in Kaia's hand. A nasty, triumphant smirk spread across her face.

"Getting kicked out already?" Aniya mocked, her voice dripping with fake pity. "Couldn't even last one day?"

Kaia kept her eyes locked on the front door. She didn't slow down. She walked right past Aniya, her pace accelerating.

Aniya's smile vanished. She hated being ignored. She lunged forward, stepping directly in front of the heavy oak doors. She reached out, her manicured fingers clawing toward the handle of Kaia's suitcase.

"I'm talking to you!" Aniya snapped.

Just as Aniya's fingers brushed the plastic handle, the massive front door swung open from the outside.

A blast of freezing wind and rain whipped into the foyer.

Ethan Cole stood on the threshold. He wore a razor-sharp black suit. He held a massive black umbrella over his head, the rain bouncing violently off the waterproof fabric.

Ethan's cold, deadpan eyes locked onto Aniya's outstretched hand.

Aniya gasped. She yanked her hand back as if she had touched a hot stove. She took a clumsy step backward.

Ethan stepped into the foyer. He gave a slight, perfectly measured bow.

"Mrs. Wilson," Ethan said. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the foyer like a blade.

Aniya's face turned a mottled shade of purple. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. The jealousy burned so hot in her eyes it was almost physical.

Kaia looked at Ethan. The tight knot in her chest instantly loosened. Her shoulders dropped an inch.

Ethan stepped forward. He reached out and took the suitcase from Kaia's hand. He didn't ask. He simply took it, his grip firm and absolute.

He turned around and tilted the massive black umbrella. He held it directly over Kaia's head, shielding her completely. He escorted her down the stone steps, treating Aniya like she was completely invisible.

A black Maybach sat idling in the pouring rain. Ethan opened the rear door.

Kaia slid onto the plush leather seat. The door slammed shut, instantly cutting off the howling wind and the toxic air of the Miranda estate.

Ethan loaded the suitcase into the trunk. He climbed into the driver's seat and put the car in gear.

The Maybach glided smoothly through the iron gates. Kaia turned her head. She looked at the sprawling mansion fading into the rain. She let out a long, shaky exhale.

Soft classical music played through the car's speakers. Ethan reached forward and adjusted the climate control. Warm air blew over Kaia's freezing legs, melting the chill from her bones.

Ethan glanced at the rearview mirror. He reached into the center console and handed a bottle of room-temperature Evian water to the back.

"Thank you," Kaia whispered. Her throat felt like sandpaper. She twisted the cap off and took a small sip.

"Mr. Wilson is still in his meetings," Ethan said, his eyes back on the road. "He instructed me to take you to The Haven Estate to settle in."

Kaia lowered the water bottle. Her eyebrows pulled together. The Haven Estate. It was the most exclusive, hyper-private residential enclave in New York.

"Is that where he usually lives?" Kaia asked.

Ethan offered a polite smile in the mirror. "No, ma'am. That is the new residence he prepared specifically for your marriage. Mr. Wilson oversaw all the design details himself."

Kaia's stomach did a strange flip. Of course he did, she stared at the back of Ethan's head, her mind instantly rationalizing the anomaly. A man like Jaxson Wilson would control every variable, down to the very walls of the gilded cage he was putting her in. It wasn't personal; it was just thorough. She had assumed Jaxson would just throw her into one of his empty luxury penthouses.

The rain lashed against the windows, blurring the neon lights of the city. Kaia leaned back against the headrest. She closed her eyes. For the first time all day, her heart rate slowed to a normal rhythm.

An hour later, the Maybach turned down a hidden, tree-lined avenue. Massive steel security gates parted silently.

The car pulled up a circular driveway and stopped in front of a breathtaking modern mansion. It was a masterpiece of glass, steel, and natural stone.

Ethan got out and opened her door.

"We are here, Mrs. Wilson," he said.

Kaia stepped out of the Maybach. Her heels clicked against the damp stone pavers. She tilted her head back, staring up at the towering glass facade of The Haven Estate.

Ethan walked past her. He tapped a code into the digital keypad next to the door. A soft chime sounded, and the heavy walnut door swung open automatically.

Kaia followed him inside. The foyer was massive, with ceilings soaring twenty feet high. A cascading crystal chandelier cast a warm, golden glow over the space.

A woman in a spotless uniform stood near the entrance.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Wilson. I am Mrs. Holloway," the housekeeper said, bowing her head respectfully.

Mrs. Holloway stepped forward and gently took Kaia's damp shawl. Her eyes were warm, devoid of the calculating judgment Kaia was used to from the Miranda staff.

Ethan handed the suitcase to another maid. He turned to Kaia.

"Ma'am, Mr. Wilson said you have full reign of the house. Please feel free to look around," Ethan said. He gave a brief nod and walked out, the front door clicking shut behind him.

Kaia walked forward. Her shoes sank into the thick wool rug. She stepped down into the sunken living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a staggering view of the New York skyline.

Her eyes caught something in the corner of the room. A large, illuminated architectural model sat on a custom pedestal.

Kaia walked over to it. It was a perfect, scale replica of The Haven Estate.

Ethan had walked back in holding a tablet. He saw her looking at it.

"Mr. Wilson designed the initial blueprints himself," Ethan said, tapping his screen. "He holds a dual degree in architecture from MIT."

Kaia blinked. She turned to look at Ethan. Jaxson Wilson, the ruthless Wall Street predator, was an architect?

She pointed to a specific section of the model. A beautiful glass sunroom extended out into the manicured gardens. "Did he design this part too?"

Ethan smiled. "Yes. Mr. Wilson knows you are a screenwriter and that you often work late into the night. He added the sunroom specifically for you. He said the natural light there would be perfect for your inspiration."

Kaia's heart slammed against her ribs. A hot, tight sensation bloomed in her chest.

She immediately dug her fingernails into her palms. Stop it, she told herself. It's just PR. He's building the perfect set for the perfect fake marriage.

Mrs. Holloway gestured toward the private elevator. "If you'd like to see the living quarters, ma'am?"

Kaia nodded. They rode the elevator to the second floor.

The doors slid open to a wide hallway lined with plush carpeting. At the far end stood a set of double carved wooden doors.

Mrs. Holloway pushed them open. "The master suite. Mr. Wilson's belongings are already in the dressing room."

Kaia stepped inside. The room was cavernous. A massive King-size bed dominated the center, covered in dark gray silk sheets.

Kaia walked toward the en-suite bathroom. She stopped in the doorway. The marble vanity held only one set of toiletries-men's. The air in the room was thick with the scent of cedar and mint. Jaxson's scent.

It was a purely male territory.

Kaia's breathing turned shallow. The walls suddenly felt like they were closing in on her. Her chest tightened with a sudden, overwhelming panic.

She turned around. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, rubbing her collarbones in a defensive posture.

"Are there other guest rooms on this floor?" Kaia asked. Her voice was slightly pitched.

Mrs. Holloway blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Yes, ma'am. Down the other hall. But Mr. Wilson instructed that you would be staying in the master suite."

Kaia bit the inside of her cheek. The metallic taste of blood grounded her.

"I am a very light sleeper," Kaia said, her voice trembling slightly. "I don't want to disturb Mr. Wilson. I'll take a guest room."

Mrs. Holloway looked distressed. "Ma'am, I really must ask Mr. Wilson before making that kind of change."

Kaia didn't want to make the woman's job harder. She forced a tight smile. "It's fine. I'll call him and tell him myself."

Mrs. Holloway looked relieved. She led Kaia down the opposite hallway and opened the door to a warm, beige-toned guest suite.

Kaia immediately told the maid to bring her suitcase inside. She started unpacking her clothes, shoving them into the empty closet.

Night fell. The house grew completely silent.

Kaia sat on the edge of the guest bed. She stared at her phone screen. Her thumb hovered over Jaxson's name in her contacts. Her stomach churned with anxiety. She had to make the call.

Kaia sucked in a sharp breath. Her thumb pushed down on the screen, hitting the call button.

She pressed the phone to her ear. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs.

The phone rang twice.

"Kaia."

Jaxson's voice was deep, laced with a heavy exhaustion. In the background, Kaia could hear the faint, crisp sound of paper pages turning.

Kaia swallowed hard. Her throat was tight. "Jaxson," she said. Her voice came out breathless and weak.

The sound of turning pages stopped instantly.

"Are you not used to the new house?" Jaxson asked. His tone dropped an octave, becoming noticeably softer.

"No, no," Kaia rushed to say. "The house is beautiful. Mrs. Holloway is wonderful."

A low chuckle vibrated through the speaker. The sound sent a sudden rush of heat straight to Kaia's ears.

"If everything is fine," Jaxson said smoothly, "then you wouldn't be calling me. What's the problem?"

Kaia gripped the bedsheet with her free hand, twisting the fabric. He saw right through her.

"I... I want to sleep in the guest room," Kaia blurted out.

Dead silence.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

The silence stretched over the phone line like a physical weight pressing down on Kaia's chest. Her lungs seized.

"I write scripts late at night," Kaia babbled, desperate to fill the void. "My schedule is terrible. I don't want to wake you up. It's just better for both of our sleep quality if we-"

Jaxson pinched the bridge of his nose on the other end of the line. He knew she was lying. He knew she was terrified of sharing a bed with him.

"Fine," Jaxson said. His voice was completely flat. "Sleep wherever you feel comfortable."

Kaia froze. Her mouth fell open slightly. She had prepared a dozen arguments. She expected a fight.

"You... you agree?" Kaia asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "What about the staff? Won't they talk?"

"At The Haven Estate, you don't need to care about anyone's opinion," Jaxson said. His voice hardened with absolute authority. "Including mine."

The words hit Kaia's chest like a physical blow. A strange, warm ripple spread through her stomach. What did that mean? Was he giving her freedom, or was he telling her he was so indifferent to this sham marriage that she could do whatever she wanted? The thought was both liberating and strangely insulting, twisting the warmth into a knot of deep confusion. She didn't know what to say.

"What did you eat for dinner?" Jaxson asked, abruptly shifting the conversation.

Kaia blinked. "I was tired from unpacking. I haven't eaten yet."

"Kaia." Jaxson's voice snapped like a whip. It was sharp and furious. "Do not play games with your health. Go downstairs right now and have the kitchen make you something."

Kaia flinched at the sudden reprimand. "Okay," she mumbled, sounding exactly like a scolded child.

Jaxson heard the soft submission in her voice. He let out a heavy sigh. "I have a dinner meeting tonight. I'll be back late. Go to sleep early."

"Goodnight," Kaia said softly.

She hung up the phone. She stared at the black screen, letting out a massive breath. The tension drained out of her muscles, leaving her feeling light and hollow.

She stood up and walked into the closet. She stripped off her clothes and pulled on a pair of loose, soft cotton pajamas.

She opened the bedroom door. The hallway sconces cast a dim, amber glow. The central air conditioning hummed quietly.

Kaia walked down the curved staircase. She stepped lightly on the balls of her feet, not wanting to wake Mrs. Holloway or the maids.

She found the massive open-concept kitchen in the dark. She flicked on a single, small spotlight above the marble island.

She opened the double-door industrial refrigerator. It was packed with wagyu beef and truffles, but she bypassed all of it. She grabbed two tomatoes and a handful of dry spaghetti.

She set the ingredients on the cold marble counter. She turned on the sink, the water rushing loudly as she washed the tomatoes. She grabbed a knife and started chopping.

She was completely focused on the rhythm of the blade against the cutting board. She didn't hear the faint electronic click of the front door unlocking.