Bound By Contract: The Superstar's Secret Wife

Allyson stood over Byron, looking down at his perfectly composed face. Her heart was beating so fast she felt dizzy, but she forced herself to commit to the bit.

Her heart hammered furiously against her ribs. This was it. Time to be the most obnoxious, clingy woman alive. She desperately hoped Joanne was watching closely, and that this ridiculous stunt would make her sick to her stomach. She leaned down suddenly. She slammed one hand against the back of his armchair, effectively caging him in.

The other guests gasped. Charlie's hand jerked, spilling water over the rim of his glass.

Byron didn't flinch. He just looked up at her, so close that he could smell the faint scent of her rose perfume.

Allyson stared directly into his dark eyes. She lowered her voice, trying to sound seductive, but mostly just sounding congested.

"Mr. Estes," she started, her voice echoing in the quiet room. "Do you know the difference between you and the stars?"

Byron's spine stiffened. A flash of utter disbelief crossed his eyes.

The live chat completely froze. Everyone was waiting for the ice-cold superstar to shove her away in disgust.

But Byron didn't push her. He tilted his chin up slightly, his voice a low, gravelly hum. "What?"

Allyson gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to die of embarrassment. She delivered the punchline. "The stars are in the sky. But you... are in my heart."

The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush bone.

Melody slapped a hand over her mouth, a choked snort escaping her lips.

The live chat exploded.

Help!

I am physically cringing!

My toes are curling into another dimension!

Joanne jumped up from her seat, trying to play the peacemaker. "Allyson, please don't make such inappropriate jokes with a senior-"

Allyson ignored her completely. She kept her arms locked around Byron's chair.

Byron's Adam's apple bobbed. He lowered his eyelashes, hiding the intense, burning heat in his gaze.

Instead of getting angry, he went perfectly still. His dark eyes locked onto hers with a heavy, unreadable intensity that made the air between them suddenly feel too thin to breathe. He didn't lean in, but the sheer weight of his silence felt like a physical touch.

"Is that so?" he asked, his voice a flat, deadpan drawl that betrayed absolutely nothing.

The deep, vibrating timbre of his voice sent a violent shockwave straight down Allyson's spine. Her brain short-circuited. The tips of her ears turned a violent shade of red under his piercing, unyielding stare.

She jerked backward as if she had been burned, her stiletto catching on the rug. She stumbled, barely catching her balance.

Byron calmly picked up his coffee mug and took a slow sip, perfectly hiding the slight upward curve of his lips. He looked completely unbothered, the picture of cold restraint.

But the high-definition cameras had caught it all. The internet was already losing its mind over the visible flush on Allyson's ears and the undeniable tension between them.

Joanne stared at them, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. She couldn't stand the fact that she was being ignored.

She walked over to her massive pink suitcases. She looked helplessly at the male guests.

Fernando stood up, offering a polite smile, ready to help her.

But before Fernando could take a step, Byron stood up. He set his coffee mug down on the glass table with a sharp clink.

He walked straight past Joanne and her pink luggage.

He stopped in front of Allyson's battered, twenty-four-inch suitcase.