You Wanted Me as Your Mistress, So I Became His Bride

NORA'S POV

By eight the next morning, my best friend Jess had already taped up four boxes and was labeling a fifth with a Sharpie she held like a weapon.

"Work files," she said, slapping the label on. "Sketchbooks. That ugly lamp you love. What else?"

"The garment bag in the guest closet. And my laptop charger is still behind his desk."

"On it." She disappeared down the hall just as the front door opened.

Nathan walked in carrying a paper bag from the bakery on Delmont, the one with the almond croissants I used to drive twenty minutes for. He stopped when he saw the movers carrying my dresser past him.

Then he smiled, like this was a small inconvenience he could fix before lunch.

"Morning. I figured you hadn't eaten." He held up the bag. "I talked to my mother last night. She's calmed down. She understands that you're important to me, and she's not going to make things difficult after the wedding. We can still see each other. Nothing has to end."

I looked at the bag, then at him.

"Put the breakfast down, Nathan."

He set it on the counter, a little uncertain now.

I turned to the mover by the door. "Is that the last one with the blue tape?"

"Yes, ma'am. That's everything marked."

"Thank you."

Nathan finally seemed to understand what he was looking at. Empty hangers. Bare shelves. The wall where my framed sketches used to hang, nothing left but nail holes.

---

When I reached for my purse, he stepped into the doorway and blocked it.

"Okay. I get it. You're upset, and you want something real." He pulled a folded document from his jacket and held it out. "The apartment downtown. I had my lawyer draw this up this morning. It'll be in your name. Fully yours. Nobody can ever take it from you."

He said it like he was handing me a ring.

I didn't take the paper. "That's your proof? A deed?"

"It's security, Nora. It's me saying I'm serious."

"Six years ago I chose you when you were living in a studio with a broken radiator," I said. "I didn't need property to know you loved me. I'm not going to take an apartment now in exchange for being your mistress."

His jaw tightened. "Don't call it that."

"What would you call it? A woman you keep in a separate building while your wife lives in your house?" I shook my head. "Find a nicer word if you want. It's still the same thing."

Jess came back down the hall with my charger, took one look at us, and quietly walked out to the truck.

I pulled out my phone and opened my notes. "I'm also not going to your cousin's engagement dinner on the twelfth. Take me off the Hamptons weekend. And tell your assistant to remove me from the gala seating chart. I don't want a place card with my name next to yours."

"You're overreacting. People will ask questions."

"Then you'll answer them." I scrolled down. "Your grandmother's bracelet is in the top drawer of your nightstand. Your watch is on the bathroom shelf. The spare key to your office is on the hook. I'm still waiting on my passport from your safe and the painting I lent your mother. Have your assistant contact mine. Lena will handle it."

"My assistant," he repeated. "We're talking through assistants now?"

"Yes."

For a second he looked like he wanted to laugh, as if he expected me to break. Then I stepped around him and he didn't stop me.

I walked to the car without hurrying. Behind me, I could feel him in the doorway, waiting. For six years, I had always turned around at that spot to wave, to say *call me later*, to give him one more look.

I opened the passenger door, got in, and pulled it closed.

Jess started the engine. "You didn't look back."

"No," I said. "I didn't."

---

My grandfather's house smelled like cedar and the lemon polish his housekeeper had used for thirty years. By six that evening, the study lamps were on, and Adrian Vale was standing by the window when I walked in.

He was taller than I remembered from the charity event two years ago, dark suit, no tie. He turned when he heard me and didn't smile right away. He just looked at me, steady and careful, like he was waiting to hear what I actually wanted to say.

My grandfather, Arthur Bennett, gestured at the chairs. "Sit, both of you."

I didn't sit. I would lose my nerve if I got comfortable.

"I want to be honest before anyone signs anything," I told Adrian. "Last night I walked away from six years with someone, three of them official. I won't pretend I'm in love with you. I barely know you. But if I marry you, I'll take it seriously. I won't treat it like a revenge plan or a business card."

"Okay," he said.

That was it. No flinch, no flattery.

"I also have conditions."

"I assumed you would." He pulled out a chair for me and stayed standing until I took it. "Go ahead."

"Separate premarital assets. Mine stay mine, yours stay yours."

"Agreed."

"I keep my job. I'm not quitting to host luncheons, and I'm keeping my last name."

"Agreed. Both."

I hesitated on the last one, then made myself say it plainly. "And anything physical between us happens only when we both want it. Nobody owes anybody anything because there's a contract."

Something shifted in his expression, not offense, more like respect. "That's not a condition, Nora. That's the minimum. But yes. Agreed."

"You haven't asked for anything."

"I'll ask you to choose your own lawyer, not one my family recommends. And you pick the wedding date. Whatever works for you."

My grandfather cleared his throat. "Well, that's settled cleaner than I expected. Adrian, once the families are tied, there's no reason we can't move the harbor hotel project to the front of the line. Your grandfather and I discussed it in March, and the timing would be—"

"We can talk about the hotel another day, Arthur." Adrian said it politely, but he didn't take his eyes off me. "Nora, none of that is the point. I'm asking you, not your family. Do you actually want to accept my proposal?"

---

The room went quiet. My grandfather sat back slowly in his leather chair.

Nobody had asked me that in a long time. Nathan had always told me what we were doing. Where we were going. How things would look.

I stood and held out my hand.

"Yes," I said. "I accept."

Adrian crossed the space between us and took it. His hand was warm and dry, and he held mine like he wasn't in a hurry to let it drop.

"Six weeks?" I said. "For the wedding. Is that too soon?"

"Six weeks works." He paused. "One more thing. If either of us wants to change anything before then, the date, the terms, or the whole thing, we say so. Out loud. No surprises at the altar."

"Deal."

He didn't try to kiss me. He just kept my hand in his and lowered his voice a little.

"My family is hosting a reception in three days. I'd like to walk in with you. Publicly. Only if you're ready for that."

Three days. Nathan's circle would be there. Vivian would be there. Everyone who had watched me set a key beside a birthday cake.

"I'm ready," I said.

My phone vibrated on the desk. Nathan's name lit the screen. I almost declined it, then I didn't. I answered with Adrian's hand still around mine.

"Nora, where are you?" Nathan sounded tired and irritated. "I came by Jess's place. You're not there."

Before I could answer, Adrian said quietly, "Take your time. I'll wait."

On the other end, the line went dead silent.

"Who was that?" Nathan's voice turned sharp. "Who's with you? Come home. Right now."

I looked at the lamplight, at my grandfather pretending to read a file, at the man holding my hand like it already meant something.

"I'm already home," I said.