Kayden's POV
The sun had barely crested the horizon when Kayden stepped out onto the villa's expansive terrace, the salty morning breeze brushing over his skin like a teasing whisper. Below, the ocean rolled lazily against the shore, and somewhere in the distance, a lone gull cried out.
He lit a cigar—more for the distraction than the taste—and leaned against the railing, eyes tracing the delicate silhouette that moved slowly along the sand.
Bianca.
She wore one of the villa's white robes, the fabric trailing just above her ankles, her figure small but purposeful. Like she needed distance from everything. From him.
His phone buzzed.
Nathan.
"Yo," Nathan's voice finally crackled through the phone.
Kayden grinned lazily. "Look who decided to return my call."
"Don't get cocky. How's the honeymoon, lover boy?"
Kayden's lips curved into a smirk. "Let's just say it's been... eventful."
"Uh-oh," Nathan said. "What did you do?"
Kayden rolled his neck. "Had a visitor last night."
Silence cracked through the line.
"You didn't, Nathan said flatly.
"She called me. I just... answered."
Nathan groaned. "Kayden, what the hell, man? Tell me Bianca didn't see you guys."
"She heard us."
"Jesus Christ."
Kayden chuckled. "She was jealous."
"You're actually proud of that?"
He took a long drag, watching the smoke curl like a secret into the sky. "She felt something. That's more than I've gotten in days."
"Kayden!" Nathan snapped, frustration seeping into his voice. "This isn't some petty ex situation. You married her. Whether it's real or not, people are watching. What if someone saw you with the other woman?"
"Relax, Nate. It's my island. I handled it."
"Man, you're playing with fire. If word gets out—investors, board members, PR… it could blow back. And don't even get me started on Mr. Daniel."
Kayden's jaw ticked slightly at that name. Mr. Daniel was already circling like a vulture. One whiff of scandal, and he'd pounce.
"Hang on," he muttered and pulled the phone away. A new message flashed across his screen—from one of his major investors, Mr. Preston.
"Quick brunch meet-up. My island, 20 mins from yours. Would love to meet your new wife too. Today, 11AM."
Kayden cursed under his breath. Timing.
He clicked back to Nathan. "Duty calls. Preston wants brunch. Wants to meet Bianca too."
Nathan gave a dry laugh. "Oh, that'll be fun."
"Yeah. Should be a blast." He rolled his eyes and ended the call.
Later that morning, back in the villa, Kayden stood in the doorway of the bedroom. Bianca sat on the edge of the bed, hair damp from the shower, dressed in a soft cream two-piece lounge set. She was scrolling through her phone, legs crossed, expression unreadable.
He watched her for a moment, marveling at how someone could be so striking while looking so... uninterested.
"Investor's invited us to brunch. Today. On another island. It's just a 20 minute drive."
She didn't look up. "I'm not going."
His brow ticked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
Kayden stepped further into the room, arms folded. "You don't get to say no. This marriage isn't just about sharing a roof. It's a damn performance, Bianca. One you agreed to."
She finally looked up, eyes sharp and still as glass. "I agreed to pretend , not to be dragged around like arm candy while you sneak women into the room next door."
Kayden exhaled hard through his nose and sat forward, hands clasped. "Bianca. This brunch isn't optional. You will be there. I don't care if you smile, I don't care if you speak. Just look pretty, sit next to me, and play your part."
Bianca's nostrils flared slightly. "You don't have to remind me what I signed up for."
"Good."
Silence.
Kayden leaned back, jaw ticking. She wasn't just cold—she was a mirror. Reflecting everything he didn't want to see in himself.
As she stood and walked past him, the scent of jasmine clung to her skin.
She didn't say a word.
But the look in her eyes before she turned—wasn't anger. Or even pain.
It was disappointment.
And for some reason, that stung.
Bianca
Bianca stood in front of the mirror, pulling on a breezy white linen dress that kissed her ankles and fluttered gently around her legs. It was simple yet effortlessly elegant, cinched at the waist with a woven belt. Her long braids were tied into a loose knot at the nape of her neck, strands of hair escaping to frame her face. She looked...put together. But inside, she was anything but.
She slipped on a pair of nude espadrilles, the kind she'd normally love for a seaside brunch—if she were there by choice. But this wasn't a girls' getaway or a vacation with someone she loved. This was business, cloaked as leisure.
Across the room, Kayden had opted for an open linen shirt in deep navy, the sleeves rolled up lazily to his forearms, and a pair of cream-colored tailored shorts that looked expensive enough to cost more than her entire suitcase. His chain glinted subtly against his chest, and he wore designer shades pushed halfway up his head. He looked like a walking billboard for island luxury, and worse—he knew it.
As she applied a thin layer of makeup, she thought about the brunch ahead. A brunch on another island, surrounded by people she didn't know, surrounded by people who had no idea what she had gotten herself into. She didn't want to be there. She didn't want to sit at a table and smile politely while Kayden charmed the room. Every fiber in her being screamed to leave, to get away, but she knew there was no choice. Not really.
"Ready?" he asked, his voice a smooth, deep drawl. But there was no warmth in his tone, only the faintest hint of impatience.
Bianca hesitated for a moment, looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and resignation. She said nothing but simply nodded, turning back to the mirror to finish adjusting her hair.
"Don't make it harder than it has to be," he said, his voice softer this time, as if sensing her resistance. She didn't look at him, but she felt his eyes on her, scanning her figure as though she was another accessory, another piece of perfection for his world.
She finished her look with one last glance, then made her way out of the room, silently following him as he led her toward the waiting car.
The drive was silent, the soft hum of the engine the only sound filling the air. Kayden was beside her, his profile sharp and commanding in the dim light of the car's interior, but Bianca couldn't bring herself to look at him. His presence was suffocating, a reminder of all the things she hadn't chosen but had been forced into.
Her fingers drummed against her lap, the rhythm a silent expression of her unease. She wanted to speak, wanted to lash out at him for dragging her into this world of facades and power games, but what would it change? Nothing. She was his wife now—at least for appearances' sake. And she had learned that appearances were the only thing that mattered to Kayden. She couldn't tear down the walls of his empire, no matter how much she wanted to.
As the car sped across the winding roads toward the island where the brunch was being held, the tension between them thickened, the silence stretching out like a tightrope. She could feel the distance between them growing, yet she couldn't bring herself to break it. What would she even say?
She glanced out the window, watching the lush greenery blur past, the waves crashing against the rocky shore below. It was beautiful, she had to admit, but it all felt so distant. So wrong. Her stomach twisted with anxiety, but she forced herself to take deep breaths, reminding herself that she just had to get through this—just had to survive the next few hours.
When they reached the dock, the sleek speedboat waiting for them was nothing short of extravagant, its polished surface gleaming under the sun. Bianca's heart sank. This wasn't her world. Not anymore. Maybe it never had been.
She stepped out of the car, her sandals clicking against the wooden planks of the dock. Kayden, of course, was already ahead of her, striding toward the boat with the air of someone who belonged. She didn't know how much longer she could keep pretending that she did too.
The boat came to a smooth stop, docking at the edge of a smaller, more private island that looked like something out of a luxury travel magazine. Bianca stepped off behind Kayden, her sandals clicking against the polished wooden platform. Palm trees framed the path ahead, swaying lazily in the breeze as if to mock the stiffness in her posture.
A luxury cabana stretched out just beyond the entrance, white curtains billowing like sails, revealing an elegantly set table beneath with champagne flutes catching the sun. Mr. Preston stood to greet them—tall, lean, with that kind of seasoned charm that came with money and power. His wife, petite and dripping in tasteful diamonds, smiled warmly.
"Kayden," Mr. Preston said, extending a firm hand. "I see married life hasn't dulled your edge."
"Not one bit," Kayden replied with that signature smirk that made Bianca want to roll her eyes. He turned to Bianca and placed a hand at the small of her back. "This is my wife, Bianca."
Bianca mustered the most polite smile she could find and reached out to shake Mr. Preston's hand. "Pleasure," she said softly.
"The pleasure's ours, dear," Mrs. Preston chimed in with a knowing smile. "You're absolutely stunning."
"Thank you," Bianca replied, the compliment sliding off her like water on glass.
They all settled into their seats around the table, waitstaff immediately appearing with mimosas and fresh fruit. The conversation drifted naturally toward business—Mr. Preston asking about Kayden's upcoming expansion and the new wing of his tech firm. Bianca stirred her drink slowly, watching the way Kayden leaned back with ease, tossing out figures and projections like it was nothing.
He really was made for this world.
Bianca's eyes flickered toward Mrs. Preston, who occasionally interjected with gentle nods and supportive smiles, but mostly remained silent. Eventually, she reached for her purse and glanced at Bianca.
"Why don't we leave them to talk numbers?" she offered. "I could use a little walk, and I'm sure you'd like to stretch your legs after the boat ride."
Bianca didn't even hesitate. "That sounds perfect," she said, already rising.
The men barely looked up as the women stepped away from the table, their conversation deepening around projections and investor expectations.
As they strolled down the pebbled pathway that curved along the coastline, Mrs. Preston pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes.
"So," she said lightly, "how's it really going? The honeymoon, I mean."
Bianca hesitated, then gave a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's... quiet."
"Ah." Mrs. Preston's laugh was soft. "Quiet can be peaceful—or deafening. Depends on what you're listening for."
Bianca turned her gaze to the sea. The waves rolled gently, mockingly calm. She didn't know how to respond, so she said nothing. Just kept walking, the tension she'd carried since the night before growing heavier with every step.
They walked in companionable silence for a while, the only sound between them the crunch of pebbles underfoot and the distant hum of the ocean lapping against the shore. Bianca let the salty breeze brush against her skin, hoping it would do something to cool the simmering storm within her.
Mrs. Preston glanced over, her voice softer now. "You don't have to pretend with me, you know."
Bianca blinked, startled. "Pretend?"
"Mmm." The older woman gave a gentle smile. "I've been in this world long enough to know what it looks like when someone's holding their breath just to get through the day."
Bianca hesitated, then gave a small, nervous laugh. "Is it that obvious?"
"To someone who's been there before? Yes."
They stopped beneath a wide tree, its canopy offering shade from the harsh sun. Mrs. Preston took a seat on the curved bench nestled into the trunk's base, patting the space beside her. Bianca sat slowly, her fingers fidgeting in her lap, picking at invisible threads on her dress.
The silence stretched between them, peaceful but heavy. Then Mrs. Preston turned slightly, her eyes warm yet curious. "Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but... how did you and Kayden meet? I mean, the wedding came out of nowhere. He's not exactly known for... settling down."
Bianca stiffened for a moment, her brain scrambling for something — anything — that sounded believable. She hadn't prepared for that question, hadn't expected anyone to be bold enough to ask it out loud.
"Oh," she started slowly, forcing a small smile. "We... met through family friends. It wasn't exactly love at first sight or anything, but things happened fast after we reconnected."
Mrs. Preston raised a brow, clearly intrigued, but said nothing — allowing Bianca's vague answer to hang in the air. Bianca hated how fake it sounded, how it didn't even convince her.
"Mmm," Mrs. Preston finally murmured, a knowing hum. "Sometimes life doesn't follow the script. I hope, whatever the case, you're being kind to yourself."
Bianca looked down, focusing on a seagull circling lazily overhead. Her throat tightened, the words pressing behind her teeth. I didn't choose this. None of it. But instead, she only nodded, offering another smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Mrs. Preston studied her for a long moment, then leaned back against the tree trunk. "Kayden's a complicated man," she said, almost as if to herself. "Brilliant. Sharp. But… closed off in ways that matter most. He comes from a family where love is currency, not comfort. You learn to give just enough to keep control, but never enough to be vulnerable."
Bianca turned her head slightly, heart thudding. "You've known him a long time?"
"A very long time," she said, with a small, wistful smile. "I've seen him grow into this… version of himself. And I've seen what this life can take from someone if they're not careful."
There was more—Bianca could feel it—but Mrs. Preston stopped there, lips pressing gently together like she'd already said too much.
"You remind me of myself," Mrs. Preston added gently. "A long time ago."
Bianca tilted her head. "Really?"
"Mm-hmm. Young. Angry. Trapped. But determined not to let anyone see me break." She turned to Bianca fully now, eyes kind but piercing. "I won't tell you how your story will end, Bianca. That's yours to decide. But don't let yourself vanish just to make him comfortable."
The silence that followed felt thick—like truth had been laid bare between them and neither was in a rush to sweep it away.
Bianca swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."
Mrs. Preston smiled softly. "Come on. Let's get back before they assume we've started plotting our escape."
They walked back slowly, but something inside Bianca had shifted—just slightly. She didn't feel lighter, not yet. But she didn't feel entirely alone either.