Calvin pov
I woke with a cold chill brushing against my bare chest, the bedsheets twisted like a storm had passed through them. My hand instinctively reached to my side only to find it empty.
My brows furrowed. The faint scent of her perfume still lingered in the linen, teasing my senses, but the warmth of her presence was gone. I recalled how she had slept off in the middle of our romance.
My eyes darted to the bedside clock.
5:30 a.m.
The hell?
She wasn't a morning person. At least, not according to, with little I thought I knew.
I sat up, pushing away the sheets and leaning on my elbow as my eyes adjusted to the soft glow of the early dawn. That's when I saw her standing by the full-length mirror, slipping into track pants and a hoodie.
Her fingers moved with ease, zipping it up without breaking eye contact with her reflection.
She caught my gaze through the mirror and flinched, just slightly, before collecting herself like nothing happened.
"You are awake?" she asked, voice light. "Didn't think you were a morning guy."
I scoffed under my breath. "I am not. Only dragged myself out of bed at eight because of work. Don't play it like you knew that."
But deep down… I knew she did.
This woman, who is now my wife in less than two weeks, seemed to know too damn much about me. Things I hadn't shared.
I swung my legs off the bed and sat at the edge, eyes narrowing.
"How many things do you know about me exactly?" I asked, tone more serious than I intended.
She turned, walking toward me with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "You expected to marry someone who didn't do her homework? Come on… use your brain."
I blinked.
"Isn't it weird, though? You know more about me than even my assistant does."
She shrugged. "If you think it's strange for a wife to want to understand her husband, maybe you should file for a divorce already."
My eyes widened, divorce I was becoming used to having her around so how could I just divorce her?
"Hey! I just got out from under my parents' nagging, don't throw that word around!"
Then she smiled, she knew exactly which nerve to hit.
"And maybe," she said coolly, straightening her hoodie, "if your wine has less alcohol, we would already be on our way to making baby number one."
I couldn't stop the smirk tugging at my lips. "You are the one who knocks off after gulping a glass." I teased and She leaned in and whispered, "Well… it is our honeymoon phase. We can try another time."
That teasing glint danced in her eyes as she moved past me, hips swaying in a way that was both infuriating and addictive.
She was a storm I hadn't learned to read yet. And she was already slipping through my fingers.
"Where are you going?" I called out. She paused, halfway to the door, and turned.
"What? Worried I will cheat?" she asked innocently, then added with a wicked smile, "Or scared you won't be the most interesting man in the room anymore?"
My jaw ticked. I stood, barefoot, walking toward her. "I am possessive. I don't like sharing what is mine," I warned.
She rolled her eyes and slapped my hand off when I reached for her wrist. "Then maybe act like someone I should care about." The sting of that was deeper than I expected.
It reminded me how she didn't want me. I don't know if it's my possessiveness that keeps pushing people away but weirdly I didn't want to lose the one who finally
Now that she wore my ring when I needed those loving eyes on me when she carried my name and lived in my home… she still didn't. It was like being invisible in plain sight. And yet, I wanted her eyes to burn only for me.
She gathered her purse and lipstick and announced, "I am going for a walk. Need to maintain my beauty."
I folded my arms, staring at her. It's the second day of our marriage and she only thought of going for a walk around 5:30 in the morning.
"I need a new line for my skincare needs, I didn't come with any... I saw how the closet already has dresses."
"Why didn't you come with anything?" I asked, recalling the only thing my wife came with was her phone, purse which she hardly uses, and the outfit she wore.
"Because I didn't want to." just with that line she walked off without another word.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling. I followed after her, fast.
"Hey… I should go with you… you are new in this estate." but she smirked. "I will find my way around.." I declined immediately.
"Nope, we are going together." she stared at me and leaned closer, "Then you should go change." I nodded with a smile.
"Fine, wait for me in the living room," she nodded and I left to change.
But by the time I reached the living room, She was gone only then it dawned on me she tricked me
Frustration boiled in my chest like a volcano. I was about to text her when my phone buzzed.
It was Damian, my best friend. I swiped up and growled, "What is the problem?"
"Whoa…Touchy this morning." Damian sounded amused, and I wasn't in the mood. "Look, I was going to wait until the usual time you wake up, but this news… it couldn't wait." he went straight to the point, aware of my temperament.
I rubbed the back of my neck. "Damian, I swear, if you call just to complain about another shipment delay…"
"It's about your wife."I froze hearing that. "What about her?"
"I did some digging and remember you told me she came from a high background with a Prestigious clean background, right?"
"Yeah., her company is well known. Why?"
"Well, I am getting reports that something changed… about three years ago."
I paused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean… the woman who's been handling the majority of the family's business affairs in the last three years, the one making decisions, attending meetings, building their empire isn't the same as the person in their public record before that."
"What the hell are you saying?"
"There's a rumor that the girl you just married may not be the daughter she claims to be. The real one… might've disappeared. Or died. Or something. Because everything about your wife's identity only solidifies from three years ago. Before that, it's foggy and Incomplete."
I sat down hard on the couch, heart hammering.
Fake identity? Why would she lie?
"Dig deeper," I said, my voice low. "Find everything. I want names. I want photos. I want the past."
"And if she isn't who she says she is?" I stared at the door she'd vanished through, the same door she left.
"Then I will find out what the hell she wants from me."