Vesper’s POV
According to the contract, we had to live together.
Apparently, fake marriages came with horrifyingly real inconveniences.
I sat across from Jaxon in his hotel suite while flipping through the final draft of the agreement his lawyers had rushed over an hour ago.
The stack of papers in my hand looked less like a marriage contract and more like terms and conditions for selling my soul.
Public appearances.
Shared residence.
Media cooperation.
Behavioral expectations.
I stopped at one line and looked up slowly.
“No.”
Jaxon didn’t even glance away from his phone.
“That sounds dramatic.
Which part offended you this time?”
I slapped the paper against the table.
“The cohabitation clause.”
Now he looked up.
Unfortunately, that was a mistake because the man had changed clothes after dinner, and apparently, his casual look was specifically designed to sabotage women emotionally.
Black sweatpants.
Tight gray shirt.
Damp hair pushed back carelessly.
He looked less like a professional athlete and more like the reason women ignored red flags.
“That part stays, it’s not up for arguments,” he said calmly.
“I can stay somewhere nearby.”
”Vesper.” Jaxon leaned back in his chair slowly, watching me with that lazy arrogance that always made me want to insult him and kiss him at the same time.
Deeply concerning combination.
“Look, Little Chaos,” he said mildly, “…married people usually live together.”
Married people also kill each other sometimes.
Let’s not use them as role models.”
That almost made him smile, but he didn’t.
I looked back down at the contract again, irritation building in my chest.
The worst part?
He wasn’t wrong.
If the court decided to investigate my living situation before the custody hearing, separate homes would destroy everything.
Sunny deserved stability.
Not another courtroom battle.
My chest tightened painfully at the thought of Chloe.
God.
I still couldn’t fully process that she was gone.
Now lawyers were discussing custody arrangements like she was paperwork.
I looked away quickly before my emotions started showing on my face.
Unfortunately, Jaxon noticed anyway.
His voice lost some of its teasing edge.
“Hey.”
I hated how softly he said it.
“I’m fine.”
I exhaled sharply and stood from the table before he could keep looking at me like that.
“The court already thinks I’m unstable.
If they see headlines about scandals and fake relationships and separate bedrooms—”
”They won’t.” I turned around, and Jaxon had put his phone down now.
For the first time since I’d met him, his attention felt completely fixed on me.
Dangerously fixed.
“You’re going to win custody,” he said quietly.
Something in my chest pulled tight because he sounded certain.
More certain than I felt myself.
“You don’t know that.”
”I do.”
”How?”
His gaze held mine for a second too long before he answered.
“Because people like you don’t stop fighting once they love somebody.”
The words hit harder than they should have, and I looked away first.
“I still want my own room,” I muttered weakly.
That cocky expression returned immediately.
“I’m serious.”
”So am I.” He stood slowly.
” But it’s still one room.”
I hated that he had a comeback for everything.
My phone buzzed suddenly before I could continue arguing.
A new message from my lawyer flashed across the screen.
The court evaluator may conduct a surprise visit tomorrow morning.
Shared living arrangements will be assessed carefully.
I stared at the message for three full seconds.
Then I closed my eyes.
Because, of course, tomorrow would be the evaluation.
Of course, my life would become worse.
When I looked back up, Jaxon was already watching my expression carefully.
“They’re coming tomorrow, aren’t they?”
I nodded once, and silence settled briefly between us.
Then Jaxon grabbed his keys from the counter, now fully dressed.
“Come on.”
”Where are we going?”
”Home, you don’t expect us to stay in the hotel, right?”
I nodded, and we drove for over one hour.
The villa looked exactly like the kind of place rich men bought after emotionally damaging several women successfully.
Huge glass walls, Black marble floors, and a pool stretching across the backyard.
The entire house screamed expensive commitment issues.
I walked inside behind Jaxon while dragging my suitcase and immediately spotted an elevator inside the house.
He was watching me for a reaction, and I rolled my eyes.
“Absolutely disgusting,” I muttered.
Jaxon glanced over his shoulder.
“Come on, you love it.”
”I judge it.”
”I think you looked impressed.” He gave that low laugh again.
That did something at the depth of my stomach.
No, stop it, Vesper.
I followed him upstairs while trying not to think about how quickly everything in my life had changed.
Three days ago, I was dealing with client scandals.
Now I was fake-married to a hockey player while fighting for custody of a grieving child and moving into a billionaire’s mansion.
Therapy would never be enough for this.
Jaxon stopped outside a massive bedroom and pushed the door open.
The bed alone looked criminal, huge, dark, and Intimate.
Absolutely not.
“No.”
Jaxon walked inside anyway.
“You’re repeating yourself.”
”I’m not sleeping in here with you; this arrangement is for the public, and no one is going to be watching us.”
”Yes, you are.”
I crossed my arms tightly.
“There are six other bedrooms in this house.”
”And yet you’re emotionally attached to avoiding mine.”
”I’m attached to surviving this arrangement.”
His gaze moved over my face slowly, like he was pretending to like my disapproval, but I could see the disappointment on his face.
“You think sleeping beside me is dangerous?
Am I that hot that you might not…survive it near me.
” My throat tightened unexpectedly.
That was exactly the problem, not because I thought he’d hurt me but because I wasn’t entirely sure I’d keep reacting to him rationally.
And judging by the look in his eyes lately, Jaxon knew it too.
I forced out a laugh.
“Please.
I survived my ex-boyfriend; I can survive you.”
The second the words left my mouth, the room changed.
Jaxon went still.
His jaw tightened slightly before he looked away toward the windows.
“You shouldn’t say his name around me,” he said quietly.
I blinked.
“Why?”
His eyes met mine again, and suddenly all the teasing was gone.
Before I could respond, Jaxon stepped back and grabbed clothes from the dresser.
“I’m showering,” he said calmly.
“Try not to run away while I’m gone.”
”I’m considering it.”
His mouth twitched slightly before he disappeared into the bathroom.
The second the door shut, I sat heavily on the edge of the bed and pressed my hands against my face.
What was happening to me?
I was exhausted.
So why was my body reacting to this man like he was a bad decision wrapped in expensive cologne?
The bathroom door opened before I could spiral further.
And unfortunately, God clearly hated me personally.
Jaxon walked out wearing nothing except a towel hanging low around his waist, enough for me to see the carved, dangerous V line with water dripping slowly down his chest.
I forgot my own sentence halfway through thinking about it.
Slowly, his mouth curved.
“You know,” he said casually, “most people at least pretend not to look.”
Heat exploded across my face.
Jaxon stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I could smell soap and clean skin and something dangerously masculine underneath it.
My heartbeat stumbled hard.
His eyes dropped briefly to my mouth before returning to mine.
“You’re nervous,” he murmured.
“Get a goddamn cloth and stop being a pervert!” I groaned, and he chuckled.
“Yoy should get used to seeing me like this, I sleep naked most of the time, and it’s now a habit.”
I gasped and stood up, but a low laugh escaped him.
Then, slowly, he reached down and tilted my chin upward slightly.