Hallie sat in her dimly lit bedroom, the soft glow of her phone screen illuminating her face as she scrolled through her messages. Her lips curled into a small smirk as a new text popped up from a number saved under a simple 'R.'

Ryder: I need to see you. It's been too long, and I hate sneaking around like this. Let's do dinner tomorrow. Somewhere private.

Hallie's heart skipped a beat, and she quickly typed back.

Hallie: You're the one with the wife, babe. Not me.

Ryder: And you're the one who's been keeping her off my back. I owe you.

Hallie's fingers hovered over the keyboard, her stomach twisting in frustration. Of course, she had done everything for him. Chase had taken the fall without even realizing it. The world believed her childhood sweetheart, was the father of her child, and that had worked out perfectly—for Ryder, at least.

Hallie: You do owe me. You have no idea how annoying Chase is. He's like a dog that keeps coming back no matter how many times I push him away.

Ryder: And yet you let him take the blame. Because you love me.

Hallie sighed, resting her chin on her hand. She did love him. More than she should, more than she had ever loved anyone. Ryder Evans, Hollywood's golden boy, the married Marvel superstar with the perfect family image. And here she was, the secret he could never publicly claim.

Hallie: Of course. I'd do anything for you. You're the love of my life. You know that.

Ryder: Then have dinner with me. Let me remind you why.

Hallie hesitated for only a second before she typed her response.

Hallie: Fine. But you better make it worth it.

Her phone vibrated instantly with a reply.

Ryder: Oh, I will. Just wait and see, beautiful.

A wicked smile spread across Hallie's lips. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but she had already gone too far to stop now.

Just as she locked her phone, the sound of the bathroom door opening made her glance up. Chase stepped out, steam billowing behind him as he ran a towel through his damp hair. His torso glistened with droplets of water, muscles flexing as he moved. The towel wrapped around his waist hung low on his hips, and Hallie forced herself not to roll her eyes at the sight.

He caught her staring and smirked. "Who are you texting?" he asked, rubbing the towel over his head before tossing it onto the chair.

Hallie barely blinked, her expression smooth and unreadable. "Just a business dinner I have to attend tonight," she said easily, slipping her phone into the nightstand drawer. "Nothing exciting."

Chase barely reacted, nodding as he grabbed a pair of jeans. "How's the baby doing?" he asked, his tone neutral.

Hallie hesitated just briefly before forcing a small, sad smile. "She's fine. Healthy. Happy. Just wish she had a father who actually wanted her."

Chase sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. "Have you heard from him? That married actor?"

Hallie's lips quivered, and she looked down, shaking her head. Then, as if she couldn't help herself, her eyes welled up. "No one will ever want to marry me, Chase. No one thinks I'm good enough."

A memory hit Chase like a punch to the gut—Hallie as a little girl, crying on the playground, convinced she wasn't good enough to be picked for the games. He had told her then what he always knew deep down: that she was enough. More than enough.

He swallowed; his voice softer this time. "Do you need me to go with you?"

She shook her head quickly, wiping at a stray tear. "No, just... can I have a small kiss? Please?"

Chase hesitated. He didn't want to. Every fiber of his being resisted. But at this point, even Emilia wouldn't talk to him, and he just... wanted some attention, some kind of connection. He leaned in and pressed a brief, emotionless kiss to Hallie's forehead.

She sighed against him as if it was all she needed. But Chase? He felt nothing. Just a deep, gnawing emptiness.

As he left the apartment, his mind was already spinning. Hallie was lying to him. Again. He knew her tells too well—the way she barely blinked, the ease with which she fabricated half-truths. Was he finally starting to see what others have told him? Chase wasn't naive enough to believe she would be lying to him... right?

And that? That was something he wouldn't tolerate. Lies. He was done with them.

More than anything, Chase needed to figure out a way out of this mess. He needed to make it up to Emilia.

___________________

The black town car idled at the curb as Chase slid into the cool leather interior. The driver gave him a polite nod before merging into morning traffic, the cityscape blurring past as Chase opened his tablet and began scrolling through the day's briefings. Reports from his legal team, an overview of quarterly earnings, and a few flagged articles on potential acquisitions. Standard fare.

Then his gaze snagged on a calendar notification.

Business Dinner with Kingsley Enterprises - 7 PM, March 6th

Chase's grip on the tablet tightened, his jaw locking in irritation.

Henry Kingsley.

The name alone made his blood boil. The golden boy. The untouchable. The one who always had everything handed to him on a goddamn silver platter. People loved him. Worshipped him. He could do no wrong, even when he did. That was what infuriated Chase the most. No matter how hard he worked, how much he built for himself, Henry always seemed to be one step ahead, not because he deserved it, but because the world conspired to make it so.

Even Hallie had been enamored with him once.

Chase exhaled sharply, forcing himself to loosen his grip before he cracked his damn tablet in half. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't. That would imply Henry had something he wanted.

And he didn't.

Or so he told himself.

_________________________

Henry and Emilia lay tangled together in bed, their legs lazily intertwined as they whispered about how to decorate their home. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast golden shadows on the walls, and the gentle hum of the world outside made everything feel even more intimate—just the two of them, wrapped in warmth.

As Emilia spoke, her voice laced with excitement over curtains and paint swatches, a strange but wonderful feeling settled in her chest. Trust.

She had never felt this way with Chase, and Chase had known her for years. This was different. This was new. This was Henry.

He had always wanted a love like his parents—epic, enduring, the kind that felt like home. Now, lying here with Emilia, he finally understood. This was it. She was it.

"I can't wait to see what you turn our home into, Emilia Everett," he murmured against her lips, his voice full of something dangerously close to devotion. "Life is only going to get better from here."

Before she could respond, he kissed her again, deep and lingering, as if he could seal this moment between them forever.

But moments never lasted forever. And secrets had a way of unraveling.