Caliste was halfway through brushing her hair when the knock came.
Lucian didn't wait to be invited. He pushed open her door, already in his sleek black suit, adjusting his cufflinks.
"We're leaving in ten."
Caliste blinked. "Leaving? Where?"
"The dinner. I told you."
"No, you didn't."
He arched a brow. "I definitely did."
She groaned. "Lucian, I'm in pajamas. You expect me to get ready in ten minutes?"
"You used to get ready in five when you partied with your friends."
"That was for tequila and karaoke. Not some formal dinner with billionaires."
He smirked. "Same principle. Just less tequila."
Caliste huffed but rushed to her closet. "What's this dinner for, anyway?"
"Investors. Old money. Very conservative. They'll be expecting my wife."
She paused, her fingers brushing a sleek red gown. "So… I'm a prop tonight."
"Not a prop," Lucian said casually. "More like… a polished distraction."
She gave him a dry look. "That's worse."
Ten minutes later, they arrived at a high-rise rooftop bathed in golden light. Strings of fairy lights danced in the wind. Gentle jazz floated through the air as servers passed by with champagne flutes.
Caliste walked beside Lucian, arm looped through his. He leaned in, whispering through his smile, "Remember: they love devoted couples. And you're madly in love with me."
"I'm trying not to throw up from that sentence."
"Fake it better."
They were greeted by Mr. Holsten, a tall man with snow-white hair and too many rings. "Lucian! And this must be the lovely Caliste."
Lucian's hand pressed warmly to the small of her back. "The one and only."
Caliste smiled, trying not to flinch. "So nice to meet you."
Just as she was beginning to settle in, a familiar voice sliced through the air.
"Well, well. If it isn't the happy couple."
Sylvia.
Caliste's spine straightened.
Sylvia wore a navy satin gown that dipped lower than necessary. Her eyes were pinned to Lucian, the corner of her lips curling.
Lucian's smile tightened. "Sylvia."
"Didn't know you were coming," Sylvia said, brushing her hair off her bare shoulder. "I thought you hated these things."
"I was invited," Lucian replied flatly.
Sylvia's gaze flicked to Caliste. "And you brought her. That's adorable."
Caliste stepped forward, clinking her glass gently against Sylvia's. "I like to keep an eye on my husband. Women can be so… territorial."
Sylvia's smile froze. "Charming as ever."
Lucian pulled Caliste away before the tension snapped. "You were enjoying that," he muttered under his breath.
"I was restraining myself."
"She's just trying to get a rise out of you."
"Then she's succeeding."
He looked at her, a strange glint in his eye. "I didn't know you could get jealous."
"I'm not jealous."
"Mm-hmm."
She took a large sip of champagne. "She just bugs me."
By the end of the night, Caliste had laughed, smiled, and told three fake stories about their so-called romantic honeymoon. When they finally got in the car, she exhaled like she'd been underwater.
Lucian glanced at her. "You were… impressive."
"I deserve an award. And a pizza."
"You're not the brat I married three years ago."
She turned to him, surprised. "Thanks… I think."
He smirked. "I still wouldn't trust you with a family heirloom."
"Fair."
---
Later That Night…
Caliste walked into Lucian's study with a notebook in hand.
"Hey, I was thinking we could look over the—AH!"
She stumbled backward, eyes wide.
Lucian had just stepped out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips, water dripping from his hair down his chest.
"Seriously?" she said, turning her back.
"You walked in on me."
"This is your fault. Knock before walking around half-naked in shared spaces!"
He laughed. "It's my house."
"Well, my eyes weren't prepared for… all that."
Lucian ran a hand through his wet hair. "You can look now. I'm dressed."
She turned slowly—he had thrown on a shirt, but hadn't buttoned it.
Her eyes flickered over his bare skin, his abs, that one stubborn droplet still sliding down.
"You're doing this on purpose," she muttered, flustered.
Lucian gave her a cocky grin. "Doing what?"
"Walking around like a Calvin Klein ad!"
He stepped closer, voice suddenly quieter. "Does it bother you?"
She blinked. "What?"
"Being near me like this. Knowing we're supposed to have a child together. That I'm still a stranger in your bed."
Her throat tightened. "Lucian…"
"I'm not pushing you, Caliste," he said, brushing a damp lock of hair behind her ear. "But if we're going to raise a child… maybe we should stop acting like roommates."
She nodded slowly. "I'll… think about it."
He stepped back, grabbing a bottle of water from his desk. "No rush. But next time, knock."
"No promises," she mumbled, escaping the room.
Behind her, Lucian smiled to himself.
Maybe she wasn't the only one falling.