Anne and Brian settled into the penthouse living room, laughter light but the weight of unspoken things lingering beneath the surface.
Brian rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. "You know, I don't think the Lancasters are ever going to openly say this, but… none of them are really on board with you and Rayden."
Anne's smile faltered slightly.
"They all want Rayden to marry Kayla Westley. The perfect business alliance with Vlarka Secure," Brian said quietly. "But from what I hear, Rayden hates Kayla. Like, really hates her."
Anne swallowed hard, the familiar knot tightening in her chest.
"There's more," Brian added, lowering his voice. "Flynn—Rayden's cousin—just came back from Japan. He's getting married in two months. And rumor is, he's gunning for that CEO seat. The one Rayden's supposed to have."
Brian shook his head. "Feels like this marriage isn't just about paperwork anymore."
Anne looked at Brian, her eyes heavier than before.
Brian stretched out on the couch, looking way too relaxed for a guy buried under wedding emails.
"So, anyway about this whole 'marriage contract' thing…" he started, waving his phone like a trophy. "The vendors are relentless. I've got cake bakers calling me morning, noon, and night."
Anne laughed, shaking her head. "Seriously? I thought we agreed on something simple."
Brian smirked. "Simple? No chance. One of them actually pitched a three-tier chocolate masterpiece shaped like a chessboard."
Anne raised an eyebrow. "Chessboard?"
"Yeah, because, you know, business and all that," Brian said with a wink. "I told them you eat cereal straight from the box, but apparently, that doesn't translate well into cake design."
Anne giggled. "Good save."
"And then the dress designers—oh man—they're a whole other story. One called me twice today to pitch a gown made from silk petals. Silk petals, Anne!"
"Sounds like a fairy tale," Anne teased.
Brian grinned. "More like a sneeze-fest during vows."
They both laughed, the absurdity of it all making the pressure feel a little lighter.
"So, venue?" Anne asked.
Brian made a face. "Grand and elegant, but 'discreet' enough so the media doesn't start sniffing around. Eleanor Lancaster's orders."
Anne sighed, but the smile on her face was real.
"Who knew marriage could be such a headache?"
Brian laughed. "Welcome to the club, future Mrs. Lancaster."
The moment the penthouse door closed behind him, Rayden moved quickly—like he needed distance from the laughter still echoing in his mind.
He headed straight to his private office, the space spotless and filled with sharp lines and cold light.
From a locked drawer, he pulled out the marriage contract between him and Anne. The paper felt heavier than usual.
Sitting behind his massive desk, Rayden stared at the signatures, then closed his eyes.
Remember, he told himself quietly. This is business. Keep the boundaries. Don't get soft.
But the warmth he'd felt around Anne—the way she laughed, the way she looked at him—it was creeping in, uninvited.
He clenched his jaw.
Not again.
Rayden opened his eyes and straightened his shoulders.
Time to behave.
But his mind replayed the scene downstairs—Anne laughing with Brian. A strange twist tightened his chest.
Is that… jealousy? The thought flickered briefly.
He shook his head, scolding himself silently.
No. You're not that kind of man.
But deep down, Rayden couldn't ignore the nagging fear—the same one that had haunted him for years.
He couldn't bear the thought of Anne getting hurt, like Blair did.
He clenched his fists.
He wouldn't let history repeat itself.
Love was a risk he refused to take.
I don't believe in love. Not anymore. You need to remember it Ray.
And don't let Anne change everything.
_____
Anne sat by the window, watching the city lights blur through the rain.
Yesterday had felt... different. For the first time in a long while, she'd felt a flicker of something close to happiness—warmth she wasn't sure was love, but it was something.
Rayden had opened up to her. Shared pieces of his past. Even smiled.
But today? His sudden coldness was confusing—like the Rayden she thought she was starting to know was slipping away.
She traced circles on the glass, biting her lip.
Did I do something wrong? The thought gnawed at her.
Or was he struggling with something he wasn't telling her?
Anne shook her head, trying to push the worries aside.
She wasn't even sure if this happiness was real—or if it was just a brief moment before everything went back to the way it was.
Still, her heart clenched at the thought of losing whatever fragile connection they'd built.
Is something wrong with Rayden?
____
The next morning, sunlight filtered softly through the penthouse windows. It was Saturday — a rare day off.
Anne headed to the kitchen, hoping for a quiet moment with her coffee.
But as she rounded the corner, she almost bumped into Rayden.
He was already there, dressed sharply, his posture rigid — the same cold, controlled man she'd been slowly getting to know, now back in full force.
Anne hesitated, then spoke up, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Rayden… you've been different lately. Distant."
He didn't look at her, his gaze fixed on the coffee machine.
"I'm always like this," he said bluntly. "Cold. Distant. It's how I am."
Anne frowned, feeling the walls between them slam shut.
She wanted to argue, to ask why he let that distance grow between them yesterday — but the words stuck in her throat.
Rayden's eyes finally met Anne's, sharp and unreadable.
"That… what happened yesterday," he began, voice low and steady, "was a mistake. I didn't mean to open up to you."
Anne's heart sank. "But—"
He cut her off with a raised hand. "Don't read too much into it. We agreed on this marriage as a business deal. Let's keep it that way. Follow the contract. Nothing more."
Without waiting for a reply, Rayden turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Anne standing alone in the kitchen, the silence heavy around her.
Her chest tightened. The warmth from yesterday evaporated like smoke.