7
The moment Granny’s heels disappeared down the hallway, Nico dropped the towel on his shoulders, stepped forward, and grabbed Red by the arm.
Hard.
“What the hell—” Red barely gasped before he shoved her against the cold wall.
His face was too close. Eyes bloodshot. Jaw clenched. The scent of fresh soap and leftover whiskey clung to him like bad decisions.
“I don’t even fucking know your name.”
His voice was low, deadly. There wasn’t a trace of the dazed, drunk billionaire from last night. He was sharp now. The kind of man you don’t play with unless you want your life ripped apart.
Red tried to speak but her throat dried up.
“I—I—”
“You what?” he hissed, jaw twitching. “You crashed a goddamn engagement party, ruined my life, and now what? Lace panties and fake smiles? What’s your name, stripper girl?”
She opened her mouth, shaky, heart hammering—
KNOCK KNOCK.
The door creaked.
A maid stepped halfway in. “Sir… sorry to disturb. Madam Eleanor says the family is downstairs. They’re waiting for you both.”
Red blinked. “Both?”
The maid gave her a once-over and nodded with a polite smile.
Nico didn't move. His arm was still pressed beside her face, boxing her in. But now his gaze had shifted.
Darker. More dangerous.
Like he was calculating the damage.
“Great,” he muttered coldly. “Let’s go pretend we’re a happy fucking couple.”
He finally stepped back and Red let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
Fake couple?
This was turning into the worst hangover of her life.
Red sat stiffly in a vintage emerald dress that probably cost more than her entire closet back home. Her knees were locked. Her palms were sweaty. And the soft velvet cushion beneath her felt too good to be real.
She was seated at the grand dining table beside Nico.
Correction: too close beside Nico. Their thighs brushed.
Granny was all giggles and butterflies, humming some wedding tune while piling food onto Red’s plate like she was feeding her to the lions.
And the lions? Yeah.
Mr. and Mrs. Bellamy.
They sat directly across, staring with poker faces carved from marble.
Nico’s dad looked like a man who hadn’t smiled in twenty years. His mom? Her gaze could cut diamonds.
"So…" Mrs. Bellamy began, folding her hands like a judge about to pass a death sentence. “You said your name was… Red?”
Red swallowed. “Y-Yes, ma’am.”
“And your full name?”
Red blinked. “Red. Just Red. That’s what everyone calls me.”
A long pause.
“What do your parents do for a living?”
She froze. “My parents… uh…”
“She’s a private person, mom.” Nico cut in smoothly, his hand casually moving to her lap under the table. “But I’ve met them. They’re good people. Very grounded.”
Red glanced at him, shocked. He didn’t even look at her. Just went on sipping his orange juice like he wasn’t lying through his perfectly white teeth.
Mrs. Bellamy narrowed her eyes. “And your education?”
Red cleared her throat. “I—I finished high school.”
“Which one?”
“Uh… Roosevelt.”
“And college?”
Red went blank.
Before she could embarrass herself further, Nico set down his glass and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
“She studied fashion privately,” he said with a chuckle, brushing her cheek with a kiss so smooth she almost forgot to breathe. “Doesn’t like traditional classrooms, do you, babe?”
Red blinked. “Yeah… classrooms give me migraines.”
“And what’s your cooking skill like?” Mr. Bellamy asked suddenly, eyes on her like she was a fraud under a spotlight.
“She makes amazing dumplings,” Nico said. “The first night we met, I nearly proposed on the spot.”
Granny squealed. “Aww!”
Red forced a smile, heart thudding like mad. What the hell was he doing? Playing husband of the year now?
She felt the weight of the whole room on her chest. She was way out of her league, and everyone here could see it.
Everyone… except Nico.
He leaned in, brushed her ear with his lips, and whispered so low only she heard it.
“Play the game or I’ll ruin you.”
Red smiled. Her jaw trembled.
Red’s phone buzzed loudly on the dining table.
Everyone paused. The tension at the table broke for a second.
She grabbed it like it was her only way out.
"Excuse me," she muttered, pushing her chair back. She leaned in, gave Nico a quick fake kiss on the lips. “I need to take a call, babe.”
Mrs. Bellamy looked like she’d just swallowed acid.
Red smiled nervously and walked off toward a quiet corner near the window. She answered the call, whispering.
"Ava?"
"Girl! Where the hell are you? I've been calling you since last night!"
Red closed her eyes and took a breath. “Babe… I don’t even know where to start. It’s a mess. I woke up in a billionaire’s house, ruined his engagement... now I’m stuck playing wifey for some heir.”
Ava gasped. "What?!"
"I know,” Red whispered. “I don’t even know how it happened. I saved him from a crowd and boom—now I’m wearing vintage dresses and sitting next to his stuck-up parents."
Ava didn’t even let her finish.
“Forget that—listen to me, Raze Maddox is losing his mind! He’s—”
“Hey.” A voice interrupted
Red froze.
Nico.
She turned slowly, heart skipping. He stood behind her, shirt unbuttoned halfway, eyes locked on her like he heard too much.
Nico didn’t say a word.
He walked straight to her, grabbed her arm, and slammed her back against the wall.
Her phone fell.
“You bitch,” he growled, eyes dark, breath hot against her face. “Planning an escape?”
Her lips parted.
She swallowed hard, staring up at him. “I was just making a call with—”
“Ssh.” His hand pressed the wall beside her head. “Shut the fuck up.”
Red’s heart thumped in her chest.
“You wanna play smart, huh?” he hissed. “Go back to that dining table and act like the perfect little wife.”
He shoved off the wall and stormed away without waiting for a reply, muscles tense as he walked.
She stood there frozen.
Eyes wide.
Breathing fast.
The call with Ava was long gone now. All she could do was straighten her dress, pick up her phone…
…and walk back into hell with her chin up like nothing ever happened.