Chapter 4

A Wife's First Day

Lora’s POV

The marriage certificate felt like it was burning a hole in my purse as we left the registrar’s office.

It had taken less than thirty minutes. Signatures, stamps, the bored clerk barely looking at us. And just like that, I was married.

Mrs. Lora Jade Grayson.

The name sounded wrong, like I was wearing someone else’s skin. My fingers went to the plain platinum band on my ring finger—expensive, cold, empty.

Drake walked next to me, steady and controlled. No smiles, no softness. Just business.

We reached a black car, way too fancy for me to even think about. His hand slipped into mine. Comforting, claiming. I felt a jolt go through me. I told myself it meant nothing. It had to mean nothing.

“We’re stopping at Meridian Mall,” he said like he was giving orders, not asking. “The contract will be ready for review before we go to the estate.”

I slid into the leather seat, the smell of new leather and faint perfume hitting me. Drake shut the door and went to the driver’s seat. The engine purred, and I realized my old life was gone.

I wanted to ask about the contract. Bring up the baby. About all the questions twisting in my head. But I didn’t. Saying anything now would make me feel exposed, weak. I had lived my whole life defending myself, I wasn’t about to start now.

So I stayed quiet, staring out the window, bracing myself.

The mall was huge, shiny, intimidating. I’d only ever walked past it. Drake parked in a “Reserved” spot.

Before I could even open the door, he appeared, lifting me off my feet like I weighed nothing.

“Let me go!” I gasped, clutching his jacket.

“My wife doesn’t walk around like a normal person,” he said firmly. “You carry the Grayson name now. Act like it.”

Wife. That word felt heavy. Strange. Scary.

He carried me to the elevator. His arms were strong, warm, too close. This was the man who had made a life inside me, and now he cradled me like I was something precious. 

The doors opened. Ten men in matching suits lined the atrium, forming a passageway. They stood at attention, heads slightly bowed as Drake passed through, a silent show of respect and authority. 

Bodyguards. My stomach twisted. Who was this man?

Drake leaned close to my ears, whispering: “The show starts now. Play your part. Got it?”

I shivered but pressed against him. “My back hurts…” I whispered. “Can you put me down?”

He eased me gently, studying me. “Are you okay? Do you want to leave?”

I tilted my head, trying to be clever. “I’ll be fine…only if you kiss me first.”

Surprise flashed in his eyes. Then his hand went to my neck, tilting my head, his lips on mine. This kiss wasn’t reckless or blurry, it was controlled, deliberate, hot. Heat surged through me, unwanted but impossible to ignore.

He pulled back, jaw tight, eyes unreadable. Fine. Let him feel uneasy for a change.

A woman in a manager’s suit appeared. Drake gave one simple order: “Bring everything. Dresses, shoes, jewelry. Only the best. My wife should have no less.”

The manager ran off, shouting at employees like a drill sergeant.

Drake led me to a lounge with velvet couches and champagne on glass tables. Everything here was gorgeous, expensive, intimidating. Employees rushed by with piles of clothing and sparkling accessories.

“This one,” Drake said, pointing to a pearl-colored gown, probably worth more than my rent for a year. “Try it on.”

The dressing room was bigger than my whole apartment, with mirrors on three sides. I slipped out of my clothes and looked at myself. My body was the same—slender, ribs visible, stomach flat—but soon that would change.

Not now, I told myself. Focus.

The dress fit perfectly, flowing over my body like it was made for me. Elegant, graceful, powerful—none of this felt like me, but maybe that was the point.

I stepped out. Drake’s eyes traveled over me slowly, lingering on my waist. He knew. Something had shifted. His face wasn’t softer, but it wasn’t icy either.

I tried to act confident. “So?” I spun, letting the dress flare. “Am I up to Mr. Grayson’s standards?”

“You look stunning,” he said, calm but firm.

I leaned closer, brushing my fingers along his tie. “I’m yours tonight. Don’t forget.”

Ridiculous, I thought. Me, a nobody playing wife in a world I didn’t belong to.

Drake’s lips curved slightly. “Watch out, wife. I might take you up on that.”

God, the word “wife” made something flutter inside me that I had no right to feel.

Outside, a truck arrived to haul away the bags and boxes of expensive items. The ride back was quiet, but the air felt heavier. Something was different.

“We’re going to see my father,” Drake said as we left the garage. “Just be yourself. Don’t overdo it.”

I swallowed hard. Be myself. But who am I now?

I adjusted the dress in the passenger seat and a wave of nausea hit me. My stomach twisted, heavy and strange. At first, I thought it was the rush, the perfume, the spinning elevator. But it didn’t go away. My hand went to my stomach almost automatically. Not now, I whispered. Too many things to handle….Drake, the contract, my mother.