Chapter 2

The next morning, I sat at the far end of a dining table big enough for twenty.

Actually, "morning" wasn't accurate. I had never fallen asleep. After that absurd transaction, the butler had taken me to a guest room three times the size of my old apartment. I had sat on the bed all night, staring into space until dawn.

Breakfast covered the table, but my stomach felt like stone.

The staff at the Gray estate moved like flawless machinery, silent and efficient. Still, every time one of them passed with a tray, I could feel their eyes slide over me.

Like they were looking at something cheap that had been shoved into an expensive display window.

"So that's the Blake girl they sent to curry favor with the Grays? I expected someone prettier."

"Keep your voice down. Mr. Gray hasn't said anything yet. Looking at her, she'll be gone in a week."

The whispers drifted out from the kitchen.

My fingers whitened around the fork, but I sat up straighter.

Don't flinch, Ava Blake.

You're here to work.

They're just coworkers.

Then I heard the soft hum of a motor at the dining room entrance.

The servants instantly fell silent and stepped aside.

Ethan Gray was wheeled in.

He wore a dark gray cashmere lounge set. His face was pale, but the pressure he carried filled the entire room. He didn't even look at me. He was pushed to the head of the table. The butler laid his napkin in place. Ethan began to eat with elegant precision, knife and fork barely making a sound.

The whole room stopped breathing.

My spoon suddenly felt impossibly heavy.

"There aren't many rules in this house," he said after touching a napkin to his lips. His voice was as cold as a sentence being handed down. "Actually, there are none. Do as you like."

I looked up, startled.

His eyes settled on me from across the long table.

"Your movements, your spending, your social life. I won't interfere. As long as you don't use the title Mrs. Gray to drag me into some public scandal, you're free to do whatever you want."

The butler stepped forward and held out a black card edged in gold.

"Your advance," Ethan said flatly. "And your salary."

Salary.

The word felt unreal.

"Starting today," he went on, "your job is to play Mrs. Gray well. Attend the family events that matter. Help me deal with the business rivals waiting to laugh at me. Keep this marriage looking normal. Until the performance ends. Or until I no longer need you."

At last, I understood.

I wasn't really his wife.

I wasn't even a decorative tool.

I was a highly paid actress.

He had hired me to hold the outside world in place and distract his enemies.

Strangely, the realization calmed me.

Being an employee was safer than being a disposable wife.

As long as I had value, I could survive.

I tightened my grip on the card and gave him a polite, professional smile.

"Understood, Mr. Gray."

The change in title came naturally.

Something approving flickered in his eyes.

He set down the napkin and signaled the butler to wheel him out.

Just before he reached the door, he tossed one last bomb over his shoulder.

"Nine tomorrow morning. Be at Gray Group headquarters. Human Resources will process your onboarding."

My hand jerked so hard I nearly dropped the spoon.

"For what position?"

The wheelchair stopped.

His answer came from the doorway, cool and final.

"My personal assistant."