Chapter 12
Sylvie let out a piercing shriek. “Don’t look! Don’t look at them!”
She lunged forward, desperate to snatch the photos, but someone shoved her aside, sending her crashing to the floor.
One high heel flew off, her hair a tangled mess, and her dress was stained with chaos.
She scrambled on her knees, frantic, trying to gather the photos, but the more she collected, the more seemed to appear.”
Brynn had thought this scene was all part of Sylvie’s scheme, but when he saw the genuine panic in her eyes, doubt crept into his mind.
Suddenly, a memory from that day flashed across his mind, something I had said lightly, “Birthday gift? A surprise.”
So this was my surprise.
I had known.
I had known about the affair all along.
I knew Sylvie wasn’t some “god–sister,” and I knew exactly which photo showed them entangled on my bed.
I had known it all.
But I had never exposed him.”
I had only waited, waited until his birthday, to give him the public surprise he’d never forget.§
Brynn’s chest heaved, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“President Murphy, are you okay…” someone nearby shouted.}]
“President Murphy!”
He stumbled, veins bulging on his temples, then muttered my name, “Natalie…”
Then everything went black, and he collapsed with a loud thud.
As I stepped out of City Hall, I still felt a bit dazed.
The man beside me stood tall, his build solid, dressed in a black shirt with a suit jacket casually draped over his shoulder. He looked at me with soft, gentle eyes.
Without a word, he reached out to open the passenger door for me, the movement so smooth, as though he’d done it a hundred times. I hesitated for a moment, feeling awkward, then slid into the car.
Inside, the air was infused with the scent of a high–end cologne, cool and restrained.
Unlike Brynn’s scent, which always felt aggressive and overpowering, this one seemed designed to soothe, yet it still lingered in the air, impossible to ignore.
I turned to glance at him.
We sat in the backseat, the space spacious yet somehow cramped by his long legs, which seemed to stretch on endlessly with nowhere to go.
I didn’t know where to begin.
In a fit of anger, I had stormed into City Hall, registering a marriage, and now, here I was, sitting next to my “temporary husband.”
The anger had faded, leaving reason in its wake.}
If he were a complete stranger, I could’ve said, “Let’s live our own lives; it’s just a business marriage, no interference.”
But he wasn’t just anyone.”
He was Hayden Collins.
The chubby little boy who used to chase after me when we were kids, so round he resembled a ball, his face streaked with snot and tears as he clung to my skirt.
And now, he was a world apart.
He had a slender figure, sharp features, and eyes deep and knowing; when he smiled, it held an air of cool elegance,
Like a piece of warm diamond, leaving you torn between wanting to hold it close or hide it away.
The strangest part was the half–familiar, half–stranger distance between us.
Not close enough for coldness, yet not far enough to keep things strictly business.
“Back when we played house as kids, I was the groom, and you were the bride.”
Hayden said suddenly, his voice low and pleasant.
“Didn’t expect that at thirty, we’d actually end up married.”
I froze, my gaze snapping at him; he was looking at me, his eyes warm with nostalgia.
A faint memory surfaced in my mind, I was about seven that summer, we built a “wedding house” in the yard of the old house, using rags and sticks.
I wore a wedding dress made of sheets, and he blushed as he called me “wife”
Back then, he was chubby, out of breath after just two steps, loved candy, and loved following me around
I couldn’t help but laugh softly “Fate really is funny“%
“When my dad said he arranged a marriage for me, I thought it was just some slick heir from another scheming family. I didn’t expect it to
be vou%
10:56 AM
I couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Fate really is funny.“}
“When my dad said he arranged a marriage for me, I thought it was just some slick heir from another scheming family. I didn’t expect it to
be you.”
I paused, the thought suddenly striking me. I turned to look at him and asked, “Seven years ago, was that you too?“!
