Mia didn't go home that night. Instead, she stayed at the club long after her shift ended,
lingering in the dressing room as the staff cleaned up and the last patrons trickled out. She needed time to think.
When she finally returned to the penthouse the next morning, she found Ethan sitting at
the dining table, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He was dressed casually for once, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, but his expression was as sharp as ever.
"You're late," he said, not looking up from his phone.
"I didn't know I had a curfew," Mia replied, her tone defensive.
Ethan set his phone down, his eyes locking onto hers. "We need to talk."
Mia sighed, dropping her bag onto the counter. She was too tired to fight with him, but she wasn't about to let him control her life.
"Fine," she said, crossing her arms. "Talk."
Ethan leaned back in his chair, studying her. "I've been thinking about this...arrangement. If you're going to live under my roof and pretend to be my fiancée, there need to be ground rules."
Mia raised an eyebrow. "Ground rules? Like what?"
"Like transparency," Ethan said. "I need to know where you are and what you're doing. No more secrets."
Mia bristled. "You don't get to dictate my life, Ethan."
"This isn't about control," he said, his voice firm. "It's about protecting both of us. If anyone finds out about your... other job, it won't just be your reputation on the line. It'll be mine, too."
Mia opened her mouth to argue, but she stopped herself. As much as she hated to admit it, he wasn't wrong.
"Fine," she said reluctantly. "But if you want transparency, it goes both ways."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you don't get to sit on your high horse and judge me when you're clearly
hiding things, too," Mia said, her voice rising. "You think I haven't noticed? The phone calls you take in private, the files you lock away in your office—whatever secrets you're keeping, they're just as bad as mine."
Ethan's jaw clenched, but he didn't respond.
"That's what I thought," Mia said, turning toward her room. "You want transparency? Start with yourself."
As she disappeared down the hall, Ethan sat back in his chair, his mind racing.