I sat at my desk, staring at the numbers on the screen, but for the life of me, I couldn't concentrate. The data blurred together, and no matter how much I tried to focus, my mind kept wandering back to her—Megan.
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing a hand over my face, trying to shake the image of her from this morning. The way she'd moved around my kitchen, so effortlessly, like she belonged there. Like she belonged with me.
I couldn't stop thinking about her. The softness of her skin, the way her lips had parted when I kissed her goodbye, the sound of her laughter as she teased me about being late for work.
I'd never felt this way about anyone before. And it was driving me fucking insane.
She was going to be my contractual wife of one year. But my mind kept repeating the images of last night like it was the most x-rated video.
Work seemed trivial compared to the thought of her. I pictured her on set, doing what she loved, pouring herself into her role.
What did she look like when she was in character? How did she move, how did she speak? I wanted to see it—needed to see it.
I glanced at the clock, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on me. Meetings. Calls. More meetings. It was the usual grind, but for some reason, it felt suffocating today.
I was supposed to be running the company, handling business, making decisions, but all I could think about was Megan. I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to be with her right now.
We were not married yet, but it seemed I was on honeymoon blues already.
As if on cue, one of my secretaries, Claire, knocked on the door and walked in, holding a stack of papers. "Mr. Drake, you're in the newspapers again."
I raised an eyebrow, forcing myself to sit up straighter. "Good or bad?"
She smiled, setting the papers on my desk. "Good, this time. It's about your engagement."
I grinned. "Perfect. My grandfather has probably seen it."
Those paparazzi probably received the pictures he prepared along with the statement.
Claire's smile faltered a little, and I could tell she was still getting used to the idea. Hell, I was still getting used to the idea.
I'd made my decision, though. Megan was the one for this role. Convincing everyone was just a matter of time, I even forgot she was just acting the part.
"Spread the news in the company, Claire," I said, leaning forward. "I want everyone to know I'm engaged to be married."
She blinked, a little startled. "You mean, officially?"
"Officially," I confirmed, my voice firm. "And make sure the news gets to all the important people. My grandfather included. I'm getting married soon."
I gave all the work to Morgana, one of my other secretaries who was also an event planner.
Claire nodded, scribbling something in her notepad before looking back at me. "Are you sure this is how you want him to find out?"
I laughed, leaning back in my chair. "It's better than him trying to arrange another one of those goddamn family meetings. Besides, this gives me control over the narrative. Also, he probably knows already."
I could already imagine how Casper would react. He'd call me into his office, demanding an explanation, probably with some outdated lecture about family honor and business alliances. But by then, it'd be too late.
The wedding was already in motion. He would stop making a fuss and realize that this was happening whether he liked my wife or not.
And honestly, I couldn't wait. Things were finally going my way. Everything was falling into place. The CEO post was in the bag. Boring was the farthest from my marriage.
A whole year spent with Megan was probably enough to exorcize her out of my system.
Win-win.
I glanced at my watch again, tapping my fingers against the edge of the desk. The thought of her on set, doing what she loved, tugged at me. I needed to see her. Now.
Be the supportive fiancee. The media and public would eat it up: Billionaire, supporting her fiance. What true love!
I stood abruptly, grabbing my jacket from the back of the chair. Claire looked up, surprised. "Where are you going?"
"I'm leaving for the day," I said flatly. "Cancel all my afternoon meetings."
Claire blinked, clearly taken aback. "But Mr. Drake, you have—"
"I don't care. Clear my schedule. I've got something more important to take care of."
Without waiting for her reply, I strode out of the office, my mind already racing with thoughts of Megan.
But how to make an impression? I smirked to myself. Flowers. I'd never bought flowers for anyone before, but it seemed like the right move. And food. Everyone loved food.
Why not order catering for the entire set? That would certainly make a statement.
I made a quick stop at a florist, stepping inside the small shop that smelled overwhelmingly of roses and lilies. The woman behind the counter smiled at me, clearly a little flustered by the sight of me in my tailored suit, and rushed to help me pick out a bouquet.
I let her guide me through the options, nodding when she suggested something vibrant—something with color to match Megan's energy.
After that, I made a few calls, arranging for food to be delivered to the set. I wanted it to be big, something that would impress everyone.
I knew how these things worked—good publicity was about more than just showing up. It was about making sure people talked about you.
By the time I arrived at the studio, the food had already been delivered. I could see crew members buzzing around, excitedly grabbing plates and chatting about the unexpected treat. Good. That would keep them busy.
I slipped inside quietly, bouquet in hand, my eyes scanning the set until I found her.
And there she was. Megan stood in front of the camera, her face focused and serious as she delivered her lines. Even though her part was small, I could see the passion she poured into it. Every movement, every word—it was all deliberate, all meaningful.
She was incredible.
But then, something shifted. The director—Noah Rodriguez—stepped forward, his face twisted in frustration.
Spittle flew from his mouth as he berated her, his voice loud and harsh. Megan's shoulders stiffened, her head lowering as the insults kept coming.
I frowned, watching the scene unfold. Even though I wasn't a director, I could tell this was unfair. Megan hadn't done anything wrong. She was giving everything she had, yet this asshole was tearing her down in front of everyone.
Anger flared in my chest. I clenched my fists, watching as the director continued to shout, his words cutting through the air like knives. Megan stood there, taking it, her face pale but determined.
Enough was enough.
I stepped forward, my voice cutting through the noise. "What's happening here?"
The entire set went silent. Heads turned, eyes wide as they realized who I was. Even Rodriguez stopped mid-rant, his face paling as he recognized me.
I didn't give him a chance to speak. I walked straight up to him, my expression hard. "Is there a problem, Mr. Rodriguez?"
He stammered, clearly caught off guard. "I—uh, no, Mr. Drake. Just giving some… constructive feedback."
I glanced at Megan, who was staring at me with wide eyes, and then back at King. "It didn't sound constructive. It sounded like you were being an asshole."
King's face flushed red, and he opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off again.
"I'm here to support my fiancée," I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "And I won't tolerate anyone treating her like that."
The word fiancée hung in the air, and I could see the surprise ripple through the crew. Megan's eyes widened, her mouth opening in shock.
I turned to her, softening my expression. "You okay?"
She nodded, still too stunned to speak.
"Good," I said, turning back to Rodriguez. "Now, unless you want to explain to me why you think it's acceptable to humiliate my fiancée on set, I suggest you take a step back and do your job."
Rodriguez swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "Of course, Mr. Drake. I… I apologize."
I didn't say anything else. I just turned to Megan, holding out the bouquet. "These are for you."
Her face softened, and she took the flowers, her hands trembling slightly. "Caleb…"
I leaned in, my voice low. "You're doing great. Don't let him get to you."
She nodded, her eyes shimmering with gratitude.
I'd come here to surprise her, but in the end, I realized I couldn't stand by and watch her be treated like that. Even if our relationship was all an act, during the duration of our agreement, I would do anything in my power to help and protect her like what a husband should do.
As per my part, I was here because she was mine. And I was going to make sure everyone knew it.