Chapter 2 Chapter 2 It Was You

Baila's body tensed as she heard that. It turned out Rowan wasn't just anyone-he was the head of the Hayes family.

No wonder Phoebe had come rushing back, desperate to reclaim her title as Rowan's wife.

The Hayes family was one of the wealthiest and most elusive families in New York. Their influence stretched far and wide, and the head of the Hayes family was known as cold, powerful, and strikingly handsome-a young king in the world of business.

For years, Phoebe had fantasized about marrying him. But two years ago, when the Hayes family proposed the marriage, she had turned her nose up at Rowan since he was only an illegitimate son of the Hayes family.

And so, she had forced Baila to take her place.

Baila exhaled sharply, looking Phoebe straight in the eyes. "Got it."

Phoebe smirked. Without warning, she reached out and wiped away the foundation on Baila's right cheek. A long, jagged scar emerged.

Baila was a spitting image of Phoebe, but the scar on her face set them apart-a flaw that had to be concealed with foundation whenever Baila had to pretend to be Phoebe.

To everyone else, Phoebe was the celebrated beauty of New York. Baila? Nothing more than a nobody from the countryside.

Just then, a servant announced, "Mrs. Hayes, Mr. Hayes is back!"

Rowan was back!

Phoebe quickly shot Baila a warning look, smoothed the creases from her dress, and strode toward the entrance to welcome Rowan.

The doors swung open, letting in a rush of cold air as a tall, imposing figure stepped inside.

Raising her head, Baila saw Rowan.

Dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, he looked refined. The fabric clung smoothly to his frame, unwrinkled and flawless, as if even the smallest imperfection had no place in his presence.

His face-sculpted-looked as if it had been crafted by a master artist.

It was him. The man in the hotel room last night.

In an instant, memories from the night before crashed into Baila-his heavy breaths, the heat of his touch... Her lashes quivered, and she instinctively dropped her gaze.

Phoebe walked to embrace Rowan. "Honey," she said sweetly, "you were so rough with me last night at the hotel..."

But before she could reach him, Rowan seized her wrist in an iron grip to stop her. His expression turned cold. "How dare you do something like that to me? Do you have a death wish?"

Pain shot up Phoebe's arm, her bones nearly crushed under his grip. Panic flickered in her eyes. "Honey, listen-it's not what you think! Old Mrs. Hayes was the one who arranged it! She said we had to be intimate, and she drugged me! She was also the one who gave me the room card-I had no choice!"

Old Mrs. Hayes again!

Rowan's jaw tightened, irritation flashing through his eyes.

From the corner of the room, Baila stood still, barely breathing. She had heard enough about Rowan to know he was ruthless, a force to be feared.

If he ever discovered she was the one who had slept with him that night, she was as good as dead.

Without hesitation, Baila turned to leave.

But just as she took her first step, Rowan, catching sight of her slender silhouette, said, "Stop."

Baila froze. Her chest pounded.

Had he discovered something amiss?

Rowan strode towards Baila. "Who are you? Raise your head and look at me!"

His presence was overwhelming. Her fingers curled against her palms as she slowly lifted her head.

The first thing he noticed was her eyes. Deep. Clear. A perfect mix of innocence and allure.

Rowan's face darkened. Those eyes. They were the same ones he had stared into the night before.

His eyes turned sharp as he said, "It was you!"

Damn it. He had recognized her!