3. Forced Smiles
Chapter three
Forced Smiles
The scent of roasted coffee drifted into the bedroom. Pleasant and warm, it teased my nostrils, chasing away the final dregs of restless sleep.
I opened my eyes to the familiar ceiling. Morning light slipped through the curtains, stretching across the hardwood. For three seconds, my brain registered an ordinary Friday. The sheets were warm, the apartment was quiet, and the countdown to my wedding was officially in the single digits.
I had a terrible headache.
I looked at the empty space beside me on the mattress.
The covers were thrown back, revealing the indentation left on Daniel’s pillow.
He had slept deeply. I knew that because I had spent the entire night trapped in the dark, lying rigidly still beside the man who was plotting my ruin. It was a miracle I’d slept at all.
Then again, it was a miracle I’d managed to survive last night without an obvious breakdown.
But Elias’s strategy had saved me. When Daniel and Harper finally emerged from the venue and found me in the car, I blamed my ruined makeup on the rain.
Daniel had instantly stepped into the role of the concerned fiancé.
“Please, honey, let me drive this time. Just relax. You’re already doing so much. ”
Once we were home, he drew me a hot bath, kissed my temple, and tucked me into this very bed. And at the same time, he was secretly calculating how many days were left until he could siphon my accounts dry.
The sheer ease of his performance made my skin crawl.
Footsteps padded down the hallway. I forced myself to sit up, pulling the duvet over my lap. I had made my decision yesterday, and I would not falter.
Tasks, I told myself. Just break it down into tasks.
This was the morning’s plan. I had to smile, maintain the alibi, and walk out the front door without giving him a reason to raise his guard. It was just as well that I had Daniel as an example. I’d always been a quick learner, and I’d just have to model my lies after his own.
Daniel pushed the bedroom door open, carrying a wooden serving tray. He wore his usual weekend sweats, his hair slightly mussed from sleep. A man hiding that level of deception should have looked haunted, but Daniel practically glowed.
“Good morning,” he said softly.
He set the tray across my lap. It held scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and a mug of black coffee. A yellow tulip sat in a small vase next to the plate. It was my favorite flower, or at least it had been. He’d managed to ruin that for me as well.
“You were sleeping so well I decided to let you rest.” He sat on the edge of the mattress, his weight compressing the springs. When he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushed my skin.
It took every ounce of willpower I possessed to accept the touch. I forced a smile. It felt stiff and entirely unnatural, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“You made breakfast,” I managed to say.
He missed the strain in my voice completely. “You’ve been working crazy hours trying to clear your desk before the wedding,” Daniel said, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. “I wanted to take care of you this morning. Eat up.”
I looked down at the food. The smell of the eggs made my stomach turn.
“Thank you.” I picked up the fork, pierced a piece of egg, and chewed. It tasted like ash. I swallowed it down with a sip of hot coffee, playing the role of the grateful fiancée.
Daniel watched me with an affectionate expression. “I was thinking about the seating chart,” he said casually, resting his hand on my knee. “I think we should move my boss to the table closest to the dance floor. He’s flying in just for this, and I want to make sure he feels prioritized.”
“That makes sense,” I agreed, taking another sip of coffee to hide my reaction. “I'll make sure the floor plan is adjusted before next weekend.”
“You’re the best.” Daniel patted my knee and stood up. “I’m going to jump in the shower. I have an early meeting with a client. Will I see you for dinner?”
“Yes. I should be home by six.”
“Perfect. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I watched him walk into the master bathroom. The door clicked shut, followed closely by the hiss of the shower turning on.
Once the water was running, I pushed the tray aside. I threw the covers back and headed for the closet. Ignoring the casual dresses, I pulled out a tailored blazer and dark trousers.
My phone buzzed against the vanity. Harper’s name illuminated the screen.
Harper: Morning! So I have a massive crisis.
I stared at the message. Just yesterday, a text like this would have sent a spike of genuine worry through me. Now, the words just hollowed me out further.
Harper: I found the perfect silver strappy heels for the bridesmaid dress, but they’re $300 and my card declined at the boutique website. Can you pretty please spot me? It’s for the wedding!! I’ll pay you back eventually lol.
The irony of her panicking over shoes for a wedding she was actively helping to sabotage was staggering. In the past, I would have sighed and sent the cash out, catering to her whims. Today, the three hundred dollars was simply a cheap tax to keep her completely oblivious.
Opening my banking app, I transferred the funds into her account and typed a quick reply.
Me: Just sent it. Buy the shoes. You’re going to look beautiful next week.
After tossing the phone onto the counter, I slipped into the guest bathroom down the hall to get ready. I kept my routine focused, twisting my hair back and applying just enough makeup to hide the dark circles under my eyes.
When I returned to the bedroom, Daniel was standing at the dresser, adjusting his tie.
“You look nice,” he remarked. “Big meeting today?”
“Just a few final client approvals,” I lied smoothly. I stepped into my heels. “I need to tie up some loose ends before the honeymoon.”
“Don’t work too hard. I want you relaxed.” He closed the distance between us, bringing the familiar scent of his cologne. He framed my face with his hands and kissed me.
I leaned into it, letting my hands rest against his suit jacket. It was disgusting to let him touch me in any way, especially when I’d seen him kiss my sister. But just one more week of this—and he’d pay the price for his deceit.
“Have a good day at work,” I said, finally stepping out of his reach.
“You too.”
I grabbed my tote bag and walked down the hall.
As I crossed the living room, my gaze swept over the space.
The custom furniture, the art on the walls, the mortgage—it was all funded by my paychecks.
Daniel occupied my home like a pampered squatter, contributing nothing but the suits taking up space in my closet. Well, that was about to change.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into my assigned parking space downtown.
As I looked up at the familiar brick exterior of my firm, a fierce heat flared in my chest. This building was my sanctuary.
I had bled for this business through grueling late-night drafting sessions, navigating a male-dominated industry with an absolute refusal to fail.
I had built my reputation from the ground up.
Daniel viewed it as an easy payday, assuming I would just hand my money over.
He was severely underestimating how fiercely I would fight to protect what was mine.
I grabbed my bag and headed inside. The bustling energy of the lobby washed over me, and I forced myself to relax.
“Morning, Marianne!” David, one of our senior drafters, called out from his desk as I walked past the open floor. “Did you look at the updated specs for the downtown loft project?”
“I did,” I replied easily. “The steel load calculations are off. Have the interns double-check the load-bearing columns on the second floor before we send them to the client.”
“On it,” David said with a grin. “And hey, one week left! You excited?”
I didn’t miss a beat. I offered him a wide, entirely convincing smile. “You have no idea.”
Greeting a few more colleagues by name, I navigated the busy corridor until I finally reached my private office. I stepped inside, pushed the heavy oak door shut, and engaged the deadbolt.
The quiet isolation of the room settled around me. Morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the rolls of blueprints on my desk. I dropped my tote onto a chair, pulled out my phone, and opened my contacts.
I scrolled down to Elias Thorne.
His direct line had been in my phone for six months, strictly reserved for catering updates and invoice questions.
But last night, right before putting me in a cab, Elias had told me to contact him as soon as I was free.
I stared at his name on the screen. Trusting him meant dragging someone else into the wreckage of my personal life.
But against all odds, I was going to. His strength had given me something the night before.
After having to force myself to play the blissful would-be bride, I desperately needed an anchor.
I didn’t hesitate further.
Me: I’m ready. I need an asset protection lawyer. Tonight.
I hit send.
Setting the device on the edge of the desk, I walked over to the windows and looked down at the street below. Traffic moved in a predictable flow. People carried their coffees, heading into their offices, entirely unaware of the private disasters unfolding in the buildings above them.
The phone vibrated against the wood surface.
I turned back and picked it up.
Elias: Be at the venue at 8:00 PM. Use the loading dock doors. I’ll let you in.
I read the message twice. A terrifying sense of clarity washed over me, burning away the last traces of the morning’s grief. Daniel thought his foundation was entirely secure. He had no idea I was about to bulldoze everything he held dear.