The second that word left my mouth—baby—someone hit mute on the whole room.
Ethan’s grip on my wrist locked up mid-drag.
The fury was still there, but something flickered behind it. Panic.
Derek recovered first, forcing out a dry laugh. “Nora, you’re still running this bit? Calling some fake husband on your phone? That’s so weak.”
Chloe laughed along.
“If she really had a fiancé, why not just bring him in earlier? She probably dialed a random number to scare Ethan.”
They kept talking, tripping over each other to convince themselves.
I didn’t explain.
My wrist was throbbing from Ethan’s grip. My cheek burned. The copper tang of blood still coated my tongue.
I just watched the door.
Because I knew he would come.
Ethan saw that certainty on my face, and it made him uglier. He snatched my phone, checked the screen.
Two words, clear as day. Miles Grant.
The call was still connected.
Ethan’s brow furrowed, like something was clicking, but too slow.
“Miles Grant?”
He laughed, cold. “At least keep your lies straight. The CEO of Aegis Dynamics is Miles Grant.”
“Seriously? You think a master’s degree gives you the right to name-drop someone like that?”
“I let the whole ‘Crestwood fiancé’ thing go, but now you’re out here dropping the CEO of Aegis Dynamics?”
Derek heard the name and froze.
Then he burst out laughing, slamming the table.
“Oh my god, Nora. You’re serious? You know who Miles Grant is? Founder of Aegis. Forbes cover. And you’re saying he’s your fiancé? If you marry Miles Grant, I’ll eat this table tomorrow. Upside down.”
More voices piled on. “Yeah, Ethan works there. You think he wouldn’t know if the CEO had a fiancée? Ethan, does your CEO have a fiancée?”
All eyes swung to Ethan.
This time, he didn’t answer right away.
Of course he didn’t know.
Aegis kept Miles’s personal life locked down tight. Outside of senior leadership, no one had ever seen me.
We’d been together seven years. Engaged for six months. The wedding invitations only went to people close to us.
Ethan Hayes, middle manager gunning for a promotion, absolutely did not have clearance on the CEO’s fiancée.
But he couldn’t admit that.
He straightened up, voice full of fake authority. “Mr. Grant does have a fiancée.”
The room went still.
My heart gave a small, sharp beat.
Then Ethan stared at me, a mocking smile cutting across his face. “But it’s definitely not you.”
“Word at the company is, Mr. Grant’s fiancée comes from a good family. Elite education. Warm, classy. His college sweetheart—the one that got away.”
“Look at yourself right now, Nora. That mess. Those tears. That blood.”
“You think you’re worthy of that?”
I looked at him, and I laughed.
The man was so ridiculous, anger felt like a waste of energy.
“Ethan Hayes,” I said. “Which part of what you just described doesn’t fit me?”
The question hit him like a slap. He blinked.
Then the humiliation burned through, and the rage came roaring back.
“You’re still running your mouth?”
He hurled my phone onto the couch and raised his hand to hit me again.
“Let me knock some sense into you right now!”
His palm never landed.
The door slammed open. Kicked in from the outside.
The bang made everyone jump. A man stood in the doorway. Black suit. Broad shoulders. Long legs. His face was cold—frost over stone.
Behind him, the venue manager and two assistants. All of them looked sick with dread.