My Billionaire Fiancé's Hidden Wife

Harper Morris POV:

The electronic chime of the front door echoed through the penthouse.

I immediately dropped the coldness from my eyes. I walked briskly into the master bathroom and turned on the faucet. I cupped the freezing water in my hands and splashed it over my cheeks, washing away the furious flush that had crept up my neck.

I heard the heavy thud of Knox's leather briefcase hitting the living room sofa.

"Harper?" His voice floated down the hallway. It was laced with exhaustion, but carefully dipped in that gentle, devoted tone he reserved just for me.

I grabbed a plush towel and dried my hands. I took a breath, pasting that bright, adoring smile back onto my face.

"In here!" I called out, my voice light and musical.

I pushed open the bathroom door and walked barefoot across the mahogany floor. Knox was standing by the kitchen island. He had already loosened his silk tie.

He turned around and opened his arms, a picture-perfect smile on his handsome face.

My stomach churned with fresh nausea. I forced my legs to keep moving. I stepped into his embrace and wrapped my arms around his waist. *I held my breath. Just like I did when I was seven, hiding under the bed, listening to my father's heavy boots storm past my door.*

Knox rested his chin on the top of my head. He sighed loudly. "The interns at the MIT lab are completely useless. I spent three hours fixing their data sets."

My fingers lightly stroked the back of his suit jacket. It was a bespoke Italian cut. I had swiped my black card for it last month.

Knox pulled back slightly. He lowered his head, his lips parting, aiming straight for my mouth with a practiced, eager hunger.

I tilted my head just a fraction of an inch. His lips landed off-center, pressing against my cheek instead.

Knox stiffened. A flash of dark annoyance crossed his eyes, but he masked it instantly.

"Careful," I murmured, stepping back and tapping my cheek. "I just put on that La Mer serum. It costs more than gold. You'll ruin the absorption."

Knox let out a low chuckle. He reached out and affectionately pinched my nose. "You and your expensive routines. Always so perfect, baby."

He turned his back to me and walked over to the crystal bar cart. He poured himself a generous glass of aged whiskey.

"The tenure committee meets next month," he said, taking a sip. "I need to secure a few more publications in top-tier journals to guarantee my spot."

I leaned against the arm of the sofa. I smiled and nodded, but my eyes were dissecting every millimeter of his posture.

"But," Knox continued, his eyes darting to the ice in his glass, avoiding my gaze. "The submission fees and the... networking required for the editorial boards... it's going to take a new round of funding."

I sneered internally. He was getting sloppy. "How much do you need?" I asked smoothly. "I'll have my private banker wire it to your research account tomorrow morning."

Knox's head snapped up. Pure, greedy relief washed over his face. He set the glass down and crossed the room, dropping to one knee in front of me. He took both of my hands in his.

"You are my angel," he said, looking deeply into my eyes. "Once I get tenure, Harper, we're getting married. We're going to build our own empire."

I stared into his earnest, lying eyes. His acting was so flawless I almost wanted to applaud.

"I know," I said softly. "I'll always be right behind you."

Knox kissed the back of my hand and stood up, rolling his shoulders. "I need a shower. The lab smells like formaldehyde."

He walked into the master suite. The bathroom door clicked shut. Ten seconds later, the heavy drumming of the rain showerhead started.

The smile vanished from my face.

I moved silently to the sofa. I picked up the suit jacket he had carelessly discarded. I slid my hand into the hidden inner breast pocket. My fingers wrapped around a cheap, plastic smartphone. A burner.

I pulled it out and tapped the screen. It asked for a passcode. I had spent ten years studying this man's habits. I typed in the six digits he used for his gym locker.

The screen unlocked.

I opened the call log. It was completely wiped, except for one number. A contact saved simply as 'D'. There were three incoming calls from today alone.

I pulled my own phone from my pocket and snapped a picture of the screen. I locked the burner and slipped it back into his jacket pocket exactly as I found it.

I walked to the bar cart, poured myself a glass of red wine, and sat down on the sofa.

The bathroom door opened. Knox walked out, a towel wrapped low around his waist, water dripping from his chest.

I raised my wine glass to him, my eyes utterly cold behind the rim.

"Go take a shower, darling. I'll get everything ready for you."