The penthouse was dark when Rayden arrived.
"Anne?" he called out.
Silence.
He loosened his tie, letting it hang around his neck like a noose. The darkness felt suffocating, like it had seeped into the very walls.
I hate this feeling.
This quiet. This… discomfort. It's coming back again.
He tossed his jacket onto the armrest, fingers finding a familiar drawer in the kitchen and pulling out a small bottle. One sleeping pill.
He popped it without water and walked back to the living room, collapsing onto the couch instead of heading to his bed.
He closed his eyes.
———
Anne entered quietly, kicking off her shoes by the door. Her bag slipped from her shoulder as she spotted him on the couch—fast asleep, shirt wrinkled, features unusually soft.
So this is what he looks like when he sleeps, he looks... gentle.
She hesitated, then turned away to grab a blanket. Gently, she draped it over him, her fingers barely brushing his shoulder.
"Goodnight, Rayden," she whispered, and left him there.
⸻
The sofa was different when he opened his eyes.
Colorful pillows. The scent of cinnamon.
Rayden blinked. No. No.
Not here.
He heard a crash in the kitchen.
"Blair?"
His legs moved on their own. The hallway stretched longer than it should. He reached the kitchen—and froze.
She was on the floor.
Blood pooled beneath her, her lifeless eyes staring up at him.
His heart stopped.
"No," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Not this again."
Then her mouth moved. Her eyes flickered. And she said one word.
"Anne…"
He jolted awake, gasping.
⸻
"Rayden?" a soft voice broke through the panic. "Are you okay?"
Anne stood there in her pajamas, a glass of water in hand. Her brow creased in concern.
"You were… having a nightmare. You kept saying her name."
Rayden rubbed his face, sweat sticking to his skin. "I'm fine."
"You were calling out for Blair," Anne added gently.
Silence. Heavy. Charged.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, backing off. "I didn't mean to— I was just worried."
He adjusted his shirt and sat up straighter. "Don't be. You're not here to worry about me."
Anne looked away, fingers tightening around her glass. "I live here now. I think that gives me some right to care."
That made him pause.
"Did I wake you?"
"No," she lied. "I was… getting ready. For the fitting."
"Right. The fitting."
———
The boutique was empty, reserved just for them. Staff flitted about with tape measures and curated expressions.
Rayden stood by the suits, shoulders stiff. Anne, across the room, was ushered behind a curtain with a collection of white gowns.
Brian appeared like clockwork, holding a latte. "You'd think a man getting married would be more thrilled."
Rayden's look could've killed. "Remind me why I'm doing this again?"
"Public image. Corporate stocks. And, oh, your contract."
Rayden rolled his eyes.
Then silence.
Anne stepped out.
She wore a simple, flowing white dress, understated but radiant. Her hair was loose, cascading down her back. The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
Rayden looked up.
His chest tightened.
Anne's gaze dropped. "Too much? I told them I didn't want anything too—"
"No," he interrupted, voice unusually sharp. "It's fine."
Their eyes met.
Anne gave a small smile. "I'm good with fine. You look nice in that suit."
Rayden glanced down. Navy blue. Tailored. Polished.
"I look like my father."
"That bad, huh?" Brian chimed in.
A corner of Rayden's mouth tugged upward—barely.
Brian clapped his hands. "Alright, lovebirds. Press release time. Hold hands, exchange glances, pretend you tolerate each other."
"Alright, Mr. Lancaster, Miss Dwasond. Let's start with something simple—standing side by side."
Anne stepped into place beside him, the silk of her gown whispering against the floor. She could feel the heat from his body, so close now, yet his expression remained locked in professional indifference.
Click.
Flash.
She stiffened slightly as his hand settled at her waist.
Why does this feel… heavier than it should?
It's just a hand. Just a pose. Nothing more.
Rayden, meanwhile, didn't even glance at her.
She's shaking a little. Nervous? Or cold?
He shifted closer, tightening his grip slightly—not out of care. Just optics. They needed to look convincing.
Click.
"You're too far apart," the photographer murmured.
Rayden sighed. Then, without a word, he drew her in tighter. Now, her side was flush against his torso. Her breath caught.
"Don't get used to this," he muttered, voice just above a whisper.
Anne glanced up, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I won't."
Liar, she thought.
Click.
"Let's try a stolen glance. Miss Dwasond, look up at him like he just whispered something sweet."
Anne turned her face up—hesitant, unsure.
Rayden's jaw tightened, but his eyes finally met hers.
There's that look again. The one she gives me when she's not pretending.
It disarmed him. Every single time.
Why do you keep holding back, Rayden? It's just her. She's nothing like Blair. She doesn't expect anything from you…
"Now hand in hand, please."
Rayden shifted and offered his palm. Anne took it slowly, trying to ignore the way her fingers tingled at the contact.
It's just your nerves, she told herself.
It's the dress. The lights. Not him.
But when he didn't let go, and their hands lingered just a second longer than necessary, she looked up again—half-expecting him to break first.
He didn't.
He stared right back.
And Anne suddenly couldn't breathe.
Why is he looking at me like this?
Rayden's mind was chaos.
This isn't real. This isn't real.
But it felt like it was.
She smiled—soft, unsure.
And it broke something inside him.
This is dangerous, he thought.
The final round of photos was just about to wrap when the photographer gave one last suggestion, almost too casually:
"Let's try a kiss—something soft. For the cover shot."
Anne blinked. "A kiss?"
"Nothing intense," the stylist added quickly. "Just a gentle touch. It'll be cropped close. People eat that up."
Rayden didn't move.
Neither did Anne.
But their hands were still linked. Their bodies already inches apart.
"You don't have to," he murmured, low enough for only her to hear.
Anne looked up at him.
The way he said it—it wasn't cold. It wasn't mocking. It was… careful. As if giving her an out.
But that was the problem.
She didn't want out.
Anne's fingers tightened slightly in his.
"I know," she whispered back. "But let's give them a good show."
Rayden's gaze searched hers. And something shifted. Almost imperceptibly. Like a breath caught between denial and surrender.
His hand moved—slow, deliberate—cradling the side of her face.
Anne's eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in.
It was supposed to be a kiss for the camera. A kiss for headlines. A kiss for contracts.
But when his lips met hers—
It didn't feel like any of that.
It was slow. Warm. Confused. A mix of caution and electricity, like stepping too close to a fire you weren't sure you wanted to leave.
Anne felt it in her chest first—like something cracking open. Then in her knees, which nearly buckled.
Rayden pulled back barely an inch.
Their eyes opened at the same time.
Neither of them said a word.
But they both knew.
That wasn't acting.
Flash.
Click.
Brian cleared his throat loudly from the side. "Well. That'll make headlines."
Anne looked away quickly, cheeks flushed, trying to focus on the stylist adjusting her sleeve.
Rayden remained still, unreadable. But his heartbeat was loud in his ears.
What the hell was that?
He didn't have an answer.
———
The car ride home was thick with silence.
Anne watched the city blur past the window. Her fingers toyed with her phone.
"You really don't want to do this, do you?" she asked softly.
Rayden didn't answer right away. "Wanting has nothing to do with it."
"Then why?"
He looked at her. "Because I need it."
Anne nodded, slow and silent.
He studied her. Something about the way the passing lights danced across her face unsettled him. She wasn't like Blair. She wasn't like anyone.
Then she asked, "Have you ever been in love?"
The air changed.
Rayden's jaw clenched. "No. Never."
"You sure?"
He hesitated. "Just an ex. Nothing real."
"Did it end badly?"
He didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Anne turned away again. The silence said more than words ever could.