How To Lose Your Billionaire Alpha Husband In 365 Days (Or Less)!-Chapter 37: Pretense...

"Did you know I’m wearing nothing under this?" I whispered, my lips brushing the corner of Aiden’s mouth.

I felt it.

The instant shift.

Aiden went rigid, every muscle locking beneath his tailored suit like I’d struck a nerve that had no business being touched in public. His hand, which had been resting politely at my back, flexed.

I didn’t look at him.

Instead, I smiled like a woman with no regrets and added, "Smile, the cameras are watching."

And then I walked away.

I drifted into the crowd without looking back, letting the soft sway of silk over bare skin do most of the damage.

My wine glass glittered in the light as I raised it in a toast to no one, laughing too loudly with Gregory Lennox, Aiden’s most annoying business rival.

The man who had, on more than one occasion, tried to poach Stark employees and flirted with me last year at Heart Enterprises’ winter gala.

Tonight, I let him get closer.

Not too close, but just close enough.

"Wow, that dress really suits you," Gregory said, a playful grin spreading across his face. "You look stunning; it’s like it was made for you."

I smiled, dipped my head coyly, and let the tip of my finger circle the rim of my glass while I looked straight at Aiden across the room.

I’m sure he heard from that distance because I noticed his expression... it was enough to melt steel.

Jaw tight. Shoulders squared. The silver tie I’d sent him now looked like a leash he was seconds from snapping. One of his councilmen said something to him. He didn’t respond. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

He didn’t even blink.

I turned back to Gregory and laughed at a silly comment he made. I had no idea what it was. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t listening for his voice—I was listening for Aiden’s growl across the ballroom floor.

And gods, I felt it in my spine even if he never made a sound.

—

After about half an hour more, we were leaving the venue and headed for Aiden’s mansion. No words were spoken all through the drive home.

The moment the gates closed behind us, I let the glamour slide off me like the silk of my dress.

I didn’t say a word.

He didn’t either.

We walked into the house in silence. Aiden’s eyes stayed locked on the door before us. Mine stayed on my phone.

When we reached the entrance, I walked out first. Still silent.

I went straight to the guest room where I’d been sleeping since my arrival at his mansion.

I hopped in the bath for a quick soak, then slipped into some silk shorts and a tank top. After brushing my teeth, I threw my hair up in a messy knot.

It all felt cosy and personal, like my own little retreat. So, I was surprised when he decided to follow me.

But as I stepped into the hallway to grab water from the kitchen—

He was there.

Aiden stood in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame. The silver tie was gone, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and hanging loose over his slacks.

His eyes found mine instantly. Dark. Wild. Controlled only by the thinnest thread.

"That," he said in a low voice, "was a dangerous game you played tonight. In fact, all day."

I raised a brow, calm as ice. "You’ll have to be more specific."

His eyes narrowed. "Pretending we are strangers when alone, then all flirty when we are outside. Telling me you were bare under that dress, then walking away. Laughing with Lennox like that. Touching him."

"I didn’t touch him." I walked forward, unbothered, brushing past him into the hallway. "Not that it’s any of your concern."

His hand shot out, catching my wrist. Not hard. Just firm enough to say, I’m not done.

"You knew exactly what you were doing," he said tightly.

I stepped closer, standing on my toes so my mouth hovered just below his.

"Correction," I whispered, trailing a finger down the line of his chest, over the crisp white shirt. "I always know exactly what I’m doing."

His breath hitched. I smiled.

"And in case you’ve forgotten..." I added softly, dangerously, "I said I was your wife. Not your pet. We are just a contract, remember?"

He flinched, just slightly, but it was there. I saw it. The way the word wife curled into something possessive behind his eyes. Something primal.

I leaned in again, close enough for him to smell my shampoo, to see the freckle just beneath my jaw, and whispered, "Sleep well, darling."

Then I reached back, pried my wrist from his hand, and closed the door to my room in his face with the quiet, satisfying click of a queen sealing the court out.

I stood there for a few seconds, just behind the door, waiting.

He didn’t knock, didn’t speak, and didn’t walk away.

I could feel him out there, breathing hard. Stewing.

But he didn’t come in.

And I didn’t open it.

After some time passed, he walked away, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

The moment I heard his footsteps retreat down the hall, I turned, leaned against the door, and let my head fall back against the wood with a dull thud.

My hands were shaking.

Not from fear or anger, but from exhaustion. From everything I’d buried in silence since the night I told him to go.

I slid down to the floor, back pressed against the door like it was the only thing holding me together.

Gods, pretending like it was nothing—like he was nothing—was starting to eat me alive.

Every stare he threw my way made my skin tighten. Every accidental brush of his hand set fire to the pit of my stomach. And the worst part?

He knew it.

He had to.

I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes as I thought of how much harder it is getting.

Harder to pretend I didn’t want him.

Harder to pretend that every time he walked into a room, I didn’t feel something shift in the air between us.

He made me feel noticed and desired, in a way that scared the hell out of me.

That’s why I knew I had to keep my distance.

If I allowed myself to embrace those feelings, even just for a moment, they would become something real. But something real felt too risky.