Chapter 11 : The intruder
Dandelion.
"What's that noise?" I paused in the hallway, my head tilted toward the far end of the penthouse where Alexander's private wing began.
I had just gotten back from Lilian's, when I heard faint...Muffled moans?
My stomach clenched.
Walter appeared from nowhere. His expression was perfectly neutral, but his eyes flickered toward Alexander's wing for just a fraction of a second.
"Miss Williams." He adjusted his glasses. "You're back."
"What's going on over there?" I gestured toward the noise, which had gotten louder. Definitely screaming now. Probably a female with high pitched voice.
Walter's jaw tightened almost noticeable. "Nothing that concerns you. I suggest you head to your room. I'll have someone bring your meal shortly."
"But—"
"To your room, Miss Williams." His tone left no room for argument.
I opened my mouth to push back, then thought better of it. Walter had been nothing but professional since I arrived, but there was something in his eyes now, something that looked almost like... Irritation?, like he wasn't in support of whatever was going on behind that door, but didn't have a say.
"Fine." I turned on my heel and headed toward my guest room, my footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway.
But the second I heard Walter's retreating footsteps fade, I stopped.
My curiosity burned hotter than common sense.
I had a hunch on what was going on, and I'm not jealous.
Afterall this was a business arrangement. Alexander could do whatever, to whoever, he wanted. It's not my business.
Except.... it kind of is, wasn't it? I'm supposed to be his wife. At least on paper. And if he had some woman screaming her head off in his bedroom, didn't I have a right to know?
You're being ridiculous, I told myself.
But my feet were already moving.
I crept quietly down the hallway toward Alexander's wing, my heart hammering against my ribs. The penthouse was enormous, all glass and marble, but the closer I got, the clearer the noise became.
Thudding. Muffled moans. And then...
"Oh God, Alex!"
I froze.
My hand flew to my mouth, heat flooding my face.
"Yes!" Her voice moaned in a desperate little cry.
What the hell!
He was—
I spun around so fast I almost tripped over my own feet, and speed-walked back to my room, my face flushed red, that woman's voice echoing in my head.
Gosh, I should have minded my business.
Of course, my hunch was right, he had someone in there.
Why wouldn't he? We weren't really married. The contract explicitly said no affection, no touching, no sex. He was free to do whatever he wanted.
But why couldn't he take her elsewhere, why did he have to bring her into this house, knowing that I leave here now.
"It's none of your business. It's none of your business. It's NONE of your business."I whispered to myself, blocking my ears with eyes closed.
I slammed my bedroom door shut and leaned against it, breathing hard.
Shameless.
He was absolutely shameless.
And I was an idiot for eavesdropping.
..........
Half an hour later, there was a soft knock on my door.
I opened it to find a young girl pushing a trolley with a covered tray in it, her smile warm and genuine. She looked about my age or older, but a bit timid with kind eyes and an easy demeanor that immediately put me at ease.
"Good evening, Miss Williams. I'm Joan. Mr. Walter asked me to bring you dinner."
I stepped aside to let her in, and she set the tray on the small table by the window. The smell of roasted chicken and vegetables filled the room, and my stomach growled loudly.
She giggled, and I smiled feeling a bit embarrassed.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
She nodded with a soft smile, straightening the napkin beside the plate. "Is there anything else you need? Miss Williams, Extra pillows? or a different drink?"
"No, I'm fine. Thank you."
She nodded, but didn't leave. Instead, she glanced toward the door, then back at me.
"You know," she said carefully, "if you ever need anything or just want to talk I'm around. It can get pretty lonely in a place this big."
Something about her tone made me pause. "Joan... can I ask you something?"
Her eyes brightened. "Of course"
I hesitated, then blurted it out before I could stop myself. "Who was that woman? The one who was here earlier?"
Joan's expression flickered, surprised at first then a bit hesitant.
She bit her lip shyly. "I'm not really supposed to talk about Mr. Graham's... personal affairs."
"Right. Of course. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"
"But," she interrupted, glancing at the door again, "you're going to be his wife. So I guess you have a right to know." She lowered her voice. "Her name is Roxy. Roxy Briggs."
The name settled in my stomach like a stone.
"And she's... what? His girlfriend?"
Joan shook her head quickly. "No. Not exactly. It's... complicated."
"Complicated how?"
She shifted her weight, clearly uncomfortable but also eager to share. "They're not dating. They're not in a relationship. It's more like... an arrangement."
My eyebrows shot up. "An arrangement?"
"Yeah." Joan leaned in slightly.
"They've been... seeing each other for a while. Casual. No strings attached. Just... you know like a fling." She explained with vague gestures that somehow communicated exactly what she meant.
Heat crept up my neck. "Oh."
"But it's not serious," Joan added quickly, as if that would somehow make it better. "Mr. Graham doesn't do serious. He's very clear about that. It's just flings. She comes, they... do their thing, and then she leaves. That's it."
I forced myself to nod, to keep my expression neutral "I see."
So they're like sex buddies. But that arrogant man didn't seem to me like a playboy. What a shameless man.
"The thing is," Joan continued, her voice dropping even lower, "Mrs. Winifred, that's Mr. Graham's grandmother, she hates Roxy. Like, absolutely despises her. She'd never allow Mr. Graham to marry someone like that. She's very particular about who joins the family."
"So that's why he needed me," I said slowly, the pieces clicking into place.
"A respectable wife for his grandmother. Someone she'd approve of."
"Exactly." Joan nodded enthusiastically. "You're perfect for that. Elegant, beautiful, and more decent, everything Roxy isn't." She paused, then added carefully, "But then Roxy's not going anywhere anytime soon. Just so you know."
My chest tightened, but I forced a smile. "Thanks for the heads-up."
Joan studied me for a moment, then reached out and squeezed my hand gently. "For what it's worth, I think you're too good for this situation. But if you need anything, anything at all, you come find me, okay?"
"Okay," I whispered.
She smiled once more, then slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.
I stared at the untouched dinner, my appetite gone.
So that was it, then.
I was the fake wife for show, while Roxy was the real... whatever she was. But the woman he actually wanted.
I scoffed.
It doesn't matter, I told myself firmly. This was always the deal. You knew what you were signing up for.
But then knowing didn't make it hurt less.
I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, and stared out the window at the glittering city below.
Somewhere out there, Chase was probably laughing at me. My family celebrating my downfall. And here I am, trapped in a penthouse with a man who couldn't even be bothered to pretend I existed when his complicated fling was around.
I won't leave my room. Not tonight or tomorrow. Not until I'm sure she's gone.
The last thing I needed was to run into Roxy and have her look at me like I was the intruder.
Even though technically, she's the intruder, right?