All Chapters of married for show : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

RUBY'S POVThe heavy oak door to Alex's master suite didn't just open; it flew back against the wall as I stormed into his room. The morning sun was barely filtering through the sheer linen drapes, but I was already a walking thunderstorm. My silk robe fluttered around my ankles, my phone gripped so tightly in my hand my knuckles were white."Why are people so eager to jump to completely idiotic conclusions?!" I demanded, my voice cutting through the quiet room like a blade.Alex jolted slightly, sitting up against his pillows. His dark hair was a messy, post-sleep tumble, his broad chest bare to the cool air, and his piercing blue eyes blinked in sudden confusion."Ruby?" he muttered, his voice thick with sleep. "What's going on?""This is what's going on!" I marched right up to the side of his bed, shoving the glowing screen of my phone inches from his face. "Look at the comments, Alex! They actually think I did it intentionally! Why on earth would I do something so incredibly tacky

CHLOE'S POV (New York City)The morning sun was barely hitting the pavement of Manhattan, but I was already sitting cross-legged on my bed, the glowing screen of my phone illuminating the dark room. My eyes were furiously scanning the headlines of The Manhattan Ledger and three different high-society blogs, my jaw clenching tighter with every word I read.The photos from the French Riviera luncheon were everywhere. There were multiple angles of Victoria Davenport looking tearful, fragile, and utterly victimized in her pastel pink suit, while Ruby stood over her looking like an icy, untouched queen in cream linen. The headlines were brutal, painting my sister out to be some psycho, pathologically jealous new wife who had publicly assaulted Alex's high-society ex-girlfriend.A strange, dark rage began to bubble violently in my chest.I wasn't jealous of Ruby right now. No—I was thoroughly, completely offended. I was pissed off.I knew my sister. We had fought, competed, and screamed at

ALEX'S POVThe heavy silence of my master bedroom was thick, suffocating, and charged with an electric current that made the hairs on my arms stand up. I had been sitting up in bed for the past twenty minutes, my tablet discarded on the nightstand, my gaze entirely anchored to the locked adjoining door. I was wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung black silk pajama trousers, my chest bare to the cool air of the room, my heart hammering a heavy, predatory rhythm against my ribs.I was a man used to absolute control. I controlled multi-billion-dollar shipping lanes, international boards, and the elite social circles of Manhattan. But right now, under this roof in the French Riviera, a nineteen-year-old girl with fiery copper hair had me completely brought to my knees.Then, the lock turned. A soft, agonizingly slow click echoed through the quiet room.The door swung open, and the breath was instantly, violently sucked straight out of my lungs.Ruby stepped into the room. The dim, warm

Ruby's POV​For my first official appearance back at the Bells family mansion since becoming a married woman, I wanted my look to scream effortless, untouchable high-society elegance. I chose a stunning, minimalist outfit from the wardrobe Alex had curated for me—a pair of high-waisted, tailored charcoal wool trousers paired with a crisp, silk cream button-down shirt. I tucked it in neatly, defining my waist with a sleek black leather belt featuring a quiet luxury gold buckle. I wore black pointed-toe stiletto mules and slung a classic black leather shoulder bag over my arm.​I decided to leave my hair completely natural, parting my vibrant ginger curls down the middle and letting them cascade down my shoulders in a fierce, voluminous, and fiery mane. I skipped the makeup entirely, keeping my face pristine, my sharp green eyes doing all the talking beneath a subtle swipe of lip gloss.​When the private Rolls-Royce pulled up to the familiar gates of the Bells estate, a strange wave of

Alex’s POV ​The penthouse was dead silent, save for the faint, rhythmic hum of the central AC and the distant, muted pulse of the city seventy stories below. Ruby was asleep against my chest, her breathing soft and perfectly synchronized with mine, her vibrant ginger curls scattered like spilled copper across my bare shoulder. The familiar, intoxicating scent of her vanilla perfume was thoroughly embedded in the charcoal silk sheets, wrapping around us like a thick, heavy blanket. ​I was completely intoxicated. Holding her like this—feeling the soft, subtle curve of her waist beneath my heavy arm—sent a protective, intensely possessive current straight through my veins. We weren't in love yet. We both knew the rules of the five-year game we had agreed to play in Manhattan. But sitting across from her at dinner, watching her sharp green eyes flash with that regal, effortless defiance... I knew I liked her far too much for my own sanity. We were acting like a real married couple becau