Chapter Seven

Cora POV

The drive to his grandfather’s estate took over an hour, the silence between us broken only by the hum of the engine. When we finally pulled up to the gates, Mr. Presley turned to me, his eyes serious.

“Don’t mess this up. He must not find out we’re pretending,” he warned.

I nodded, lips curving into a sly smile. “Okay, baby.”

He blinked, clearly thrown off. “Why are you calling me baby?”

I scoffed, tilting my head at him. “If you don’t get used to it, how do you expect this to play out convincingly?”

A low chuckle escaped him. “You’re very right. I’ll… give it my best.”

I leaned closer, brushing my fingers across his cheek. His hand shot up instinctively, catching mine, and for a moment I thought I saw a flicker of something—hesitation, maybe? Desire? I pushed a faint smile onto my lips.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” I teased, my tone light but my eyes steady.

He gave a small nod, though I could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced. Too late for doubts now.

I was already enjoying myself. He would soon learn the woman he hired wasn’t just a stand-in bride—she was born for this role.

The car door opened, and he stepped out. A moment later he came around to my side and offered his hand to help me down. But instead of taking it, I slid out gracefully and looped my arm through his, holding onto him tightly as though we were inseparable.

His body stiffened. “What are you doing? You want to break my arm?” he muttered under his breath.

I leaned my head ever so slightly against his shoulder, my voice sweet and sharp all at once. “This makes us look like a couple in love. Do you even know what love looks like? This is part of the process.”

He frowned, trying to keep his composure as the guards by the gate glanced our way. “Cora… this isn’t part of it. You’re getting too intimate.”

“Come on,” I whispered, squeezing his arm tighter. My smile was all innocence, but my words cut with playful steel. “How would they believe us if we don’t act lovey-dovey? Or are you planning to look like you’re dragging a stranger to dinner?”

“Oh! I never thought it would come to this. Fine, I’ll play along and give it my best,” he said at last, a reluctant edge in his voice.

“That’s the second time you’ve promised to ‘give it your best,’” I teased, arching a brow. “Makes me wonder if you’re actually irritated by my touch.”

He chuckled, a low sound, and shook his head. “I just don’t enjoy physical contact.”

I smirked, tightening my grip on his arm for emphasis. “Then maybe I should act like a complete stranger. Let’s see whose inheritance is at risk here.”

His lips curved in a small, knowing smile. “And your dream would go down with it. Shall we go before they notice us lingering?”

Finally, he offered me his arm properly, and I see through his, letting him guide me forward.

The moment we stepped inside, my breath caught. The grandeur of the Presley estate was overwhelming—ornate chandeliers, marble floors polished to a mirror shine, and walls dressed in artwork worth more than my entire past life. The air itself seemed to hum with wealth and power. For a second, it didn’t feel like we’d walked into a billionaire’s home—it felt like the heart of a mafia empire.

Mr. Presley—Teagan, I reminded myself—led me through the long hallways until we entered a massive dining hall. At the center stood a table so large it could host an entire banquet. Tonight, it was set with silver, crystal, and dishes that looked too perfect to eat.

Several people were already seated. At the head sat an elderly man, his presence commanding even before he spoke. Around him, I noticed two women, a man, and a younger man about Teagan’s age, with a beautiful woman perched at his side. The atmosphere was thick, not warm like family should be—more like factions sitting across a battlefield.

The elder’s sharp gaze fell on us. His voice cut through the room like steel.

“Teagan, you actually fulfilled your promise. Your mother insisted you’d never show up—said you were lying about having a wife. And yet, here you are.”

I inhaled deeply, catching the subtle flinch in Teagan’s posture. My eyes flicked to the woman sitting apart from the others, her features severe, lips pursed tight. That must be his mother. Cold, dismissive.

Before Teagan could speak, I stepped forward, planting a bright smile on my face. “Grandpa, it’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. I can’t tell you how excited I am to be here.”

The room shifted. A few faces turned toward me, startled at my boldness. Teagan glanced sideways, a sparkled of something unreadable crossing his expression—but he said nothing.

“Big lies and a cheap con artist.”

The woman’s voice cracked through the hall, laced with venom. She didn’t even bother hiding the disgust in her eyes as she looked at me. “He must have picked her up off the street to parade her here as some kind of good wife. Quite the act. Tell me, how much did he pay you? I’ll double it.”

The words hung in the air like poison, and I caught the faint smirks around the table. Some leaned back, satisfied with her cruelty, enjoying the scene. The only one who didn’t move, who didn’t flinch, was the old man at the head of the table.

“Theresa,” the grandfather’s voice rumbled, calm but weighted with authority. “This is your son. Shouldn’t you be happy for him, instead of tearing him down?”

Theresa—Teagan’s mother—snorted, her chin lifting defiantly. “I don’t have a son.” Her tone was ice, cutting sharper than any blade. Her eyes locked onto Teagan like he was something foul. “Teagan doesn’t deserve this family’s inheritance. It’s not his to take. My husband worked for this empire. We worked for it. And I won’t sit here and watch him play house with a con artist just to worm his way into property that doesn’t belong to him.”

Her gaze slid back to me, burning with contempt. “Not while I’m alive.”

The room fell into silence, heavy and suffocating. My chest tightened, and for a brief second, it wasn’t her face I saw—it was my own mother’s. The same disdain. The same rejection. I’d always told myself no one could despise their child the way mine despised me. But here it was again. A mother slicing into her own son with words sharp enough to bleed him dry.

I felt Teagan stiffen beside me, his jaw clenching so hard I could almost hear his teeth grind.