Chapter 5 - Behind the Penthouse Doors: Strict Rules of a Fake Marriage
By 9:00 PM, the media circus had exploded. Every major financial outlet and
tabloid in the country had the same headline plastered across their front pages:
THE ICE KING MELTS: BILLIONAIRE GRAHAM REED SECRETLY WEDS EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT.
I dropped my purse onto the marble kitchen island of Graham’s three-story Lake
Shore Drive penthouse and collapsed against the counter. My head was pounding,
and my lips still tingled from the kiss in the hallway.
The penthouse was stunning—vast floor-to-ceiling windows showing the ink-black
expanse of Lake Michigan, minimalist furniture, and museum-grade art. But it
felt cold, cavernous, and utterly lonely.
Graham entered behind me, tossing his suit jacket onto a barstool and loosening
his silver tie.
“You did exceptionally well today,” he said quietly, walking over to the bar to
pour two glasses of sparkling water.
“I almost had a panic attack twice,” I admitted, taking the crystal glass from
his hand. “Marcus looked like he wanted to murder us both right on the executive
floor.”
“He probably does,” Graham said grimly. “Which is why security protocols have
been doubled. The elevator requires biometric verification. The windows are
reinforced ballistic glass. You do not leave this building without Frank, your
lead security detail.”
I looked down at the platinum band on my finger, turning it slowly. “Graham…
that kiss.”
Graham went still. He set his glass down on the counter, his gaze locking onto
mine.
“It was necessary to silence him,” he said, though his voice had dropped an
octave.
“Right. Necessary,” I echoed, feeling a strange, hollow ache in my chest that I
quickly pushed down. “Part of the script.”
“Avery.” He took a step toward me, closing the space between us until the scent
of his cologne—sandalwood and crisp winter air—surrounded me completely.
“Nothing about this situation is fair to you. I dragged you into a war that
wasn’t yours. But I promise you, when this is over, you will walk away
completely protected, with enough wealth to never have to take orders from
anyone again.”
“What if I didn’t do it for the money?” The words slipped out of my mouth before
I could stop them.
Graham looked at me, a flicker of surprise and something deeply vulnerable
crossing his guarded features. “Then why did you agree, Avery?”
“Because,” I whispered, looking up into his storm-gray eyes, “I’ve watched you
carry the weight of this company alone for three years. And I wasn’t going to
let Marcus destroy everything you worked for.”
Graham reached out, his knuckles lightly grazing my cheek with infinite
gentleness. “You are far too good for this world, Avery.”
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The tension between us was electrical,
humming with unspoken desires and buried truths. Then Graham pulled his hand
back, stepping into the safety of the shadows.
May you like
“Get some rest,” he said softly. “Your room is at the end of the east corridor.
Tomorrow, the war begins for real.”
