Chapter 3 - The Gym Should Be Illegal
I woke up the next morning feeling strangely…
calm.
Which was suspicious.
Very suspicious.
Usually, when you wake up inside a novel as a tragic mother married to a cold CEO, panic should be the first thing on the menu.
Screaming, crying, maybe throwing pillows.
But no. I woke up peacefully. Too peacefully.
“This is bad,” I muttered. “Something bad always follows peace.”
I sat up, stretched, and immediately froze.
This bed was still too big.
This room was still too luxurious.
And this life was still very much not mine.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself of my new survival strategy:
Act calm. Observe. Do not embarrass yourself.
Easy.
I slipped out of bed and followed the faint sound of…
movement.
Rhythmic. Heavy. Repetitive.
…Was someone dying?
I padded down the hallway and stopped in front of a glass door.
And then—
I saw it.
The home gym.
Correction.
The crime scene.
Four men.
Four fully grown, adult men.
Sweaty. Focused. Exercising.
Shirts off.
Muscles everywhere.
Arms. Abs. Veins.
Biceps. Shoulders.
My brain shut down.
“………………”
I stared.
I couldn’t help it.
I really couldn’t help it.
One was lifting weights like gravity personally offended him.
One was doing pull-ups with an expression that screamed discipline.
One was running on a treadmill, sweat sliding down his neck.
And the last one was stretching, tattoos flexing with every movement.
I swallowed.
Hard.
Okay. Pause. Pause everything.
Why are they built like male leads?
Why is this house sponsored by abs?
And most importantly—
I clapped a hand over my mouth.
“NO. NO. ARIELLE. ABSOLUTELY NOT.”
This was premium suffering.
PREMIUM.
I turned away. Then turned back.
Then turned away again.
“This is not lust. This is shock. I am shocked. That’s all.”
Yes. Shock.
Educational shock.
Like when you accidentally open a very inappropriate tab and your soul leaves your body.
I was about to retreat quietly when—
“Mom?”
I flinched so hard I nearly walked into the wall.
Slowly, painfully slowly, I turned around.
Darian had paused mid-rep, towel over his shoulder, looking at me with clear confusion.
“Do you… need something?”
I smiled.
Too quickly.
Too brightly.
The kind of smile that says I have seen things I cannot unsee.
“Good morning,” I said calmly. Elegantly. Motherly. “Carry on. I was just… exercising my… eyesight.”
Why did I say that.
Why.
Rhett snorted from across the room.
Zayden glanced at me, eyes narrowing slightly, like he was diagnosing my sanity in real time.
Emrys—of course—grinned.
“You okay, Mom? You’ve been staring for a while.”
I almost ascended.
“I was not staring,” I said firmly. “I was… supervising.”
Supervising WHAT??
Their abs???
I cleared my throat.
“You all look… healthy,” I added weakly.
Healthy.
Yes.
That’s a safe word.
Mother-coded.
They exchanged glances.
And for the first time since I woke up in this world, something shifted.
They didn’t look annoyed.
They didn’t look suspicious.
They looked… awkward.
Almost shy.
Almost… human.
“Breakfast will be ready soon,” I said quickly, retreating like my life depended on it. “Don’t overdo it.”
I turned and walked away at lightning speed, my heart pounding.
As soon as I was out of sight, I slapped my face.
“Get it together, Arielle. This is your life now. Rich house. Cold husband. Hot—”
“NO.”
I inhaled deeply.
“No more gyms. I am banning gyms from my schedule.”
Behind me, I faintly heard Rhett mutter:
“She’s… different lately.”
And for the first time, I realized something terrifying.
They were noticing.
Okay okay ??
THIS chapter was pure chaos and I loved writing it.
Arielle is officially in “why is this my life” mode, and the gym scene was meant to be funny, awkward, and very self-aware.
She knows it’s wrong, she calls herself out, and that’s what makes it entertaining.
From here on:
The sons will start noticing her change
The family dynamic will slowly soften
And Arielle will continue trying (and failing) to act like a calm, elegant mother