The penthouse had two master suites. Two colossal rooms separated by a soundproof wall, ensuring the billionaire and his contract wife maintained a meticulous, separate existence. I was in my bed, lying rigidly on the silk sheets, but I was not resting.

Two hours tomorrow. Two hours of lies.

I replayed the conversation with Alexander a hundred times. My mother. Diana. Toxic. Threatening the media. The cover story was perfect, it spoke to his fear of public spectacle and his need to protect ...