Trapped in a Fake Marriage, Freed by True Love

Hailey Lawrence listened, ice creeping into her veins with every syllable of Enzo Rainford’s voice. His crisp London accent was measured, careful, too careful. He was wary of eavesdroppers.

“Allison liked that diamond ring, so I gave it to her.”

“And the marriage certificate? I got one with Hailey, but it’s fake. Keep it quiet.”

His tone was as indifferent as ever, but each word slashed through Hailey like a knife, carving pieces out of her.

She had proposed to him ninety-nine times. She had clung to the hope of being his wife. Now, she was nothing more than his prisoner.

Enzo spoke with unnerving calm, while Jasmine Green, on the other end, was the opposite, agitated and furious.

“Enzo, can you act like a human being for once? She proposed ninety-nine times, and this is what you do to her?”

“You know her family has never cared about her. If even you throw her away, what does she have left?”

Jasmine’s voice wavered between anger and concern, punctuated by coughing. She was probably smoking again.

“Don’t push her too far,” she warned. “Wait until I get back. We’ll figure this out.”

Hailey stood outside the door, every syllable of that crisp London accent piercing through her like a blade.

Her fingers curled into fists, nails biting into her palms until warm blood pooled in the creases. She bit her lower lip hard enough for the metallic taste of iron to spread across her tongue, yet she swallowed her pain in silence.

Inside, Enzo hesitated briefly upon mentioning her name, then spoke with an almost amused indifference.

"Hailey is a generous girl. She wouldn’t lower herself to petty jealousy. Besides, what man doesn’t have someone on the side? The title of young mistress still belongs to her."

——

His tone was as lazy as his actions, hanging up the call as if the words he had just spoken were of no consequence.

Outside, Hailey’s tears slipped down, one after another. But she had long mastered the art of pretending.

Just then, a few coughs broke the silence before the door swung open. Enzo stood there, smiling at her as if nothing had happened.

"You're home early today. How about I make your favorite puppy-shaped cake?"

Hailey’s throat tightened. She forced herself to respond. "Hmm."

She watched as he moved through the kitchen, apron tied neatly, completely at ease, a faint smile lingering on his lips.

For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had imagined it all.

But the pain in her palms told her otherwise.

She watched as he set the cake down in front of her, a soft glow from the candles flickering in his eyes. By coincidence, or perhaps irony, today was her birthday.

Enzo placed a birthday hat on her head, his excitement unmistakable.

"Hailey, make a wish."

Just as the words left his lips, a playful yet unfamiliar ringtone chimed through the air, cutting him off mid-sentence.

She had never heard it before.

Their marriage was still fresh, and their honeymoon phase had barely begun. Yet, even she had never been given such an honor, a custom ringtone meant for someone irreplaceable.

The moment the sound reached his ears, his entire body stiffened. Without a second thought, he muttered, "I'll take this call. You eat first."

Hailey sat frozen as he walked toward the balcony.

Then, his voice lowered. Soft, intimate. The warmth in his tone was undeniable, seeping into every syllable. His features, once unreadable, carried a gentleness she had never seen directed at herself.

Who was on the other end of that call?

When he finally returned, his expression hinted at apology, but his voice had already turned distant.

"I have something to take care of. Looks like you’ll have to celebrate your birthday alone."

He didn’t wait for a response.

"Hmm," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The door shut behind him with a sharp click.

And then, despite herself, the tears began to fall.