"Can you stop looking at me like that?" I snapped as Liam held the door open for me.
He grinned. "Like what?"
"Like you know me," I said, stepping out of the elevator into the lobby.
"Well, I am your husband," he replied, his tone teasing.
I rolled my eyes. "Stop saying that."
The morning air hit me as we walked outside. Liam had insisted on taking me out for breakfast, claiming it would help clear my head. I wasn't so sure, but I figured it was better than staying cooped up in that penthouse, trying to untangle the mess in my mind.
We walked to a small café a few blocks away. It was charming, with mismatched furniture and the smell of fresh coffee wafting through the air. Liam ordered for both of us without asking, which only annoyed me more.
"You don't even know what I like," I said as the waitress walked away.
"True," he admitted, leaning back in his chair. "But I figured you could use a good omelet after last night."
I glared at him, but he just smiled, like this whole situation was some kind of joke.
"So," I said, folding my arms. "Why don't you tell me more about yourself, husband?"
Liam raised an eyebrow. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything," I said. "Start with why I'd marry someone like you."
He chuckled. "Ouch. That's harsh."
I didn't apologize. Instead, I stared at him, waiting for an answer.
"Well," he said after a moment, "I'm an artist. I paint, mostly. Sometimes I sell my work, sometimes I don't."
I blinked. "So… you're broke?"
He shrugged. "Pretty much."
I stared at him, my frustration growing. Of all the people I could've accidentally married, I'd ended up with a starving artist? This couldn't be real.
"Why would I marry a broke artist?" I muttered, mostly to myself.
"You tell me," Liam said, his tone light. "You were the one who insisted on getting married."
I didn't believe him, but before I could argue, he pulled out his phone. "Here," he said, sliding it across the table.
I hesitated before picking it up. On the screen were more photos from last night. In one, I was laughing, my arm around Liam's shoulders. In another, we were holding hands in front of the chapel, both grinning like idiots.
I frowned, scrolling through the pictures. There were at least a dozen of them, all showing me looking happy, carefree. It didn't make sense.
"See?" Liam said, watching me. "You seemed pretty into it."
I shoved the phone back toward him. "I don't remember any of this."
"Maybe you didn't want to," he said, his tone softer now.
I ignored him, focusing instead on the knot forming in my stomach. If these photos were real—and they certainly looked real—then I had a serious problem.
The waitress brought our food, interrupting my thoughts. Liam dug in immediately, but I just stared at my plate. My appetite was gone.
"So," I said after a few minutes, "you're an artist. Anything else I should know?"
He glanced up at me. "Like what?"
"Like… why you're living in a penthouse if you're broke," I said.
He smirked. "I have friends in high places."
"Convenient," I muttered.
Liam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You know, Evelyn, you're not exactly an open book either."
I stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," he said, his eyes locking onto mine, "you're not acting like someone who's happy to be married. Most people would at least try to make it work."
I laughed, the sound bitter. "You don't know anything about me."
"Maybe not," he said. "But I'd like to."
I didn't respond. Instead, I looked out the window, watching people pass by on the street. Normal people with normal lives. People who didn't wake up married to strangers.
By the time we got back to the penthouse, I had a plan.
Liam might have thought this marriage was real, but I knew better. It was just a setback, and setbacks could be fixed.
The first thing I needed was money. My bank account was dangerously low, and my credit cards were maxed out. If I wanted to maintain my lifestyle—and more importantly, if I wanted to get out of this mess—I needed cash, fast.
Which meant it was time to move on to my next target: Hunter Quinn.
Hunter was everything Liam wasn't. A billionaire. Handsome. Charismatic. And most importantly, he was rumored to be looking for a wife.
I'd been planning my approach for weeks, carefully crafting the perfect persona to catch his attention. Now, with this ridiculous marriage hanging over my head, I'd have to move faster than I'd planned.
As I paced the penthouse, Liam watched me from the couch.
"You're thinking pretty hard over there," he said.
I ignored him, pulling out my phone. I scrolled through my contacts until I found the one I was looking for: Claire.
Claire was my best friend and occasional partner-in-crime. If anyone could help me figure out a way out of this, it was her.
"Excuse me," I said, heading for the bedroom.
Liam raised an eyebrow. "Running away already?"
"Just making a call," I said, shutting the door behind me.
"Married?" Claire's voice practically screeched through the phone.
"Keep your voice down," I hissed.
"How did this happen?" she asked.
"I don't know," I admitted. "But I need to fix it. Fast."
Claire was silent for a moment. "What's the guy like?"
"Annoying," I said. "And broke."
She laughed. "Of course he is."
"I'm serious, Claire," I said. "I need money. And I need out of this marriage."
"Well," she said slowly, "if you're looking for money, you know what you have to do."
I sighed. "Hunter Quinn."
"Exactly," she said. "He's perfect. Rich, single, and exactly your type."
"I know," I said. "But this whole marriage thing is going to make it harder."
"Then don't let it," Claire said. "Play the game, Evelyn. You're good at it."
She was right. I was good at it. And if Liam Sterling thought he could derail me, he was about to learn just how wrong he was.
When I came out of the bedroom, Liam was still on the couch, flipping through channels on the massive TV.
"Everything okay?" he asked, glancing up at me.
"Fine," I said, forcing a smile.
He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the issue.
As I sat down at the kitchen counter, my mind was already racing. I had a lot of work to do, and not much time to do it.
But if there was one thing I knew, it was how to play the game. And this time, I wasn't going to lose.