You carefully peeled back the heavy duvet, sliding your leg out from under Austin's arm. His grip, even in sleep, was like iron. You held your breath until you were free, your feet cold on the polished wood floor.

The reality of last night felt cheap in the harsh morning light. You needed space. This entire situation was wrong, and you couldn't let yourself get attached. The contract was clear, this was a business arrangement. A marriage of convenience to secure his company's merger and solve your family's financial ruin. It was not a fairytale.

His words from this morning, spoken on the phone in his study, echoed in your head. You'd stood frozen outside the door, listening.

"She's just a step in our plan, and she knows it," Austin had said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "Once the merger is finalized in six months, we can proceed with the annulment. It's all taken care of."

He'd said it so easily, as if you were a piece of paperwork. You meant nothing.

Now, you moved silently through the massive bedroom, gathering your scattered clothes from the floor. You dressed quickly, your hands trembling as you pulled a sweater over your head. You tiptoed into the walk-in closet, grabbing the pre-packed suitcase you kept hidden behind your evening gowns. This had always been the plan, you just hadn't expected the hurt to feel so real.

You knelt on the floor, unzipping the suitcase to do a final check. Your passport, cash, and the keys to a cheap rental car were inside. A fine layer of sweat gathered on your forehead as you struggled to pull the zipper closed, the sound impossibly loud in the silent room.

And then you felt it, a shift in the air. You didn't have to turn around to know he was there, standing in the doorway. His presence dominated the space, making it feel small and suffocating. You could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head.

"What do you think you're doing?" His voice was a low, sleep-roughened rumble that vibrated through you.