Flying across the Atlantic was exhausting, especially when you were squished next to a workaholic who barely blinked for ten straight hours. By the time they landed in New York, Hailey Tang was so jet-lagged she could barely tell if her name was still Hailey.
She dragged her suitcase like a limp fish behind Ethan Yu, barely listening to him talk to the driver. The hotel they were staying at was luxurious, as expected. The kind with golden chandeliers, concierge in white gloves, and complimentary champagne flutes you were too tired to enjoy.
Ethan had clearly booked ahead—the presidential suite, no less. Hailey trudged inside, hoping for one thing and one thing only: a bed. A bed with memory foam. A bed she could crash on alone, undisturbed. A bed—
Wait.
There was one bed.
She blinked twice to make sure. "Where's the other room?"
Ethan raised a brow, nonchalantly tossing his blazer onto the plush couch. "There is no other room. This is it."
"No, no, no. I am not sleeping on the couch again," Hailey said flatly, dropping her suitcase with a thud. "I'm not a camel. My back deserves better."
"No one said you had to sleep on the couch," Ethan replied casually, loosening his tie.
Hailey looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Wait, are you saying you'll sleep on the couch?" Her face lit up like Christmas morning. "Fine! You take the couch, I'll take the bed. Perfect!"
Ethan shot her a look so dry it could've been imported from the Sahara. "Do I look like someone who sleeps on couches?"
Her smile froze. "You're not saying—Ethan Yu, you're not seriously planning to share the bed with me?!"
He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "We're still married. Legally. Sharing a bed isn't a crime."
Hailey backed away, arms crossed. "Legally? Ha! So when I strangle you in your sleep, it won't be considered murder either, right?"
"I like that you're thinking ahead," he said, clearly amused.
She was not.
Just as she turned to argue some more, Ethan suddenly closed the distance between them, grabbing her wrist and pulling her down with him—onto the bed.
Hailey let out a yelp, landing with a soft bounce against the mattress, wide-eyed and frozen. "What the hell are you doing?! Are you crazy?!"
Ethan hovered over her, gaze dark and sharp like a dagger in moonlight. "You think I'm some kind of animal, huh? Afraid I'll lose control?"
She blinked up at him, breath catching. The serious edge in his voice made her nervous—but also… something else she didn't dare name.
"I—well—you were looking at me weird!" she sputtered.
He leaned closer, his voice a dangerous whisper. "If I really wanted to do something to you, do you think sleeping on a couch would've stopped me?"
Her brain short-circuited. The logical part of her agreed—he wasn't exactly the kind of man who'd be deterred by furniture. The emotional part of her was just screaming.
And then, just like that, he let her go.
"Relax," he said, getting up and walking to the bathroom like nothing happened. "Sleep on the bed. I won't touch you."
Hailey sat up slowly, hair disheveled, trying to reboot her internal systems. After a moment of staring at his back, she realized—he wasn't going to do anything. Of course he wouldn't. He was Ethan Yu. Cold, calculated, always in control.
And he hated her, didn't he?
So what was she afraid of?
Once she'd gathered her thoughts, she flopped back onto the mattress, arms stretched wide. "Fine! I'll sleep on the bed. Alone. Peacefully. Without drama."
Ethan came out of the bathroom, towel in hand, and glanced at her. "You're awfully confident."
She smirked, not even opening her eyes. "I've survived you this long, haven't I?"
Ethan paused at that, lips quirking into something unreadable.
If only she knew—he wasn't trying to survive her.
He was trying to survive himself.
———
Later that night, Hailey curled up under the thick, silky covers, eyes wide open. Despite her earlier bravado, she couldn't sleep.
Ethan was lying beside her, calm, composed, and apparently already asleep. But Hailey could feel his presence. Like heat. Like static before a storm. She turned her back to him and closed her eyes, but her mind wouldn't shut off.
It kept replaying what he said on the plane.
"After the bidding event, we need to talk."
She'd assumed it was about the divorce.
But what if… it wasn't?
Was it possible that he—no, stop. Don't go there. Don't start imagining impossible things. Ethan Yu had made it perfectly clear that this marriage had been a business transaction. Nothing more.
Still… his actions lately had been strange.
Why hadn't he signed the divorce papers?
Why did he suddenly insist on sharing a room? A bed?
Why was he always… looking at her?
Hailey turned again to face him, only to find that he wasn't asleep after all. He was watching her quietly, propped up on one elbow.
Her breath caught in her throat. "Why are you staring at me?"
"I thought you were asleep." His voice was low, husky from the dark.
"Obviously not," she muttered, heart racing. "And stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like… like you're thinking something ridiculous."
He didn't answer that. Instead, he reached out, brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.
Hailey froze.
"You don't trust me, do you?" he asked softly.
"No," she replied honestly.
He smiled faintly. "Good."
"Why is that good?!"
"Because if you trusted me right now… I'd have a much harder time keeping my promise not to touch you."
And with that, he turned off the bedside light, plunging them into silence.
Hailey lay there in the darkness, face burning, heart hammering against her ribs.
Maybe sharing a bed wasn't such a great idea after all…