Love Began When The Facade Shattered

The door burst open, and Elena Harvey froze at the sight of two tangled bodies on the sofa.

During the ride over, she had pictured herself surprising her boyfriend, Jerald Martin, with the news that their two years apart were finally behind them. She expected he would be over the moon.

However, what she walked in on was nothing close to joy.

Her hands curled into tight fists as she realized the pair on the couch were far too lost in each other to notice her presence.

Choking back the bitter taste rising in her throat, she pulled out her phone and switched on the camera.

As they moved, the woman on the sofa caught Elena's gaze and let out a shrill scream.

Jerald jumped upright, fumbling for a blanket to throw over them, dragging the woman behind him in a rush.

He demanded, "What are you doing here? Why would you come back?"

With fury blazing in her eyes, Elena replied, "Moments like these deserve to be caught on camera."

Ignoring the woman hiding behind him, Jerald wrapped the blanket tighter around his waist and lunged off the sofa, reaching for Elena's phone.

"Come any closer, and this video goes public," Elena warned, her finger hovering.

Certain she was bluffing, Jerald advanced anyway.

Elena's thumb tapped send before he even reached her.

Jerald froze, disbelief written all over his face.

The girlfriend he thought he knew-the gentle, forgiving one-was gone, replaced by someone merciless.

"Are you trying to ruin yourself, Elena Harvey?" Jerald shouted, veins straining across his forehead.

Raising the screen for him to see, Elena said coldly, "The police are already on their way."

Jerald's face twisted in disbelief. "You..."

When he caught the unshaken look on her face, his hand jabbed toward her. "Fine. You win!"

Elena stood tall, her face set in stone. "Two years down the drain for someone like you. Honestly, trash would have more value."

...

Elena left Jerald's house behind and went straight to her friend, Mina Jones.

For the next five days, Mina's every word was a curse thrown at Jerald's name.

Early that morning, Mina caught sight of Elena staring at her phone with a shadowed look. Sliding beside Elena, she wrapped her arms around her friend. "That bastard isn't worth a single tear."

A slow shake of the head came from Elena. "I'm not crying over him. What bothers me now is the marriage proposal my father set up."

"You're kidding me."

For weeks, Elena's father, Wilbur Harvey, had been calling her home to hash out a marriage deal he thought was golden.

According to him, the man came from a wealthy family, stood tall and attractive, and was his parents' only child.

If Elena agreed, the man's family promised a wedding gift worth millions. Should she conceive within two months, another hundred million would be hers. Once a child was born, she wouldn't need to worry about money in her entire life.

Mina slapped her thigh and let out a bitter laugh. "Only your stepmother could cook up something like that. If this deal was so wonderful, she would have pushed her own daughter in first. Don't fall for it."

Elena asked, "Are you saying there's something else to this?"

"There's truth in the offer, but the biggest detail is missing."

"What are you talking about?"

"His name's Greyson Wilson," Mina explained. "He's rich, sharp, easy on the eyes. Honestly, every woman in the city once dreamed of marrying him. Some would have settled for a single night."

"Greyson Wilson..." The name tumbled from Elena's lips. "I feel like I've heard it before."

Mina gave a sharp snort. "Of course it does. Everyone in this city knows who he is. But here's the catch. Last year it came out that he has a terminal illness. His girlfriend took off for another country once she got the news. He wouldn't make it past next February. So marrying him is basically signing up to be a widow."

Pieces clicked into place for Elena.

Mina's mouth twisted in a smirk. "That stepmother of yours is ready to marry you off and cash in on your misery."

"I could always remarry once he's gone."

Mina nearly choked on air. "Hold on, you can't be serious. The man's practically dying already. Picture what he must look like right now. And don't fool yourself-he only wants a wife so he can leave an heir behind. Choosing to marry him at this point is downright disturbing!"

Elena replied thoughtfully, "Still, the conditions are hard to ignore. And when he passes, everything he owns becomes mine. With that, I'd have both wealth and freedom. People dream of such a life but never reach it."

Mina blinked in disbelief. "Are you completely out of your mind?"

"I'm not," Elena said seriously. "I've thought it over carefully. Love is nothing but a phantom-people talk about it, but it rarely shows up. It's not worth wasting years chasing it. In the end, don't we all work ourselves to the bone for money and freedom? If life hands me a shortcut, why shouldn't I take it?"

Mina let out a laugh she didn't mean. "I hate to admit it, but that almost makes sense."

A faint smile touched Elena's lips. "That's because it's the truth."

...

Later that night, Jerald managed to get through to Elena by borrowing another person's phone, his voice dripping with venom as he cursed her out.

Even after she hung up and blocked the number, he called again and again from different numbers, until she switched her phone off in frustration.

By the time Elena powered it back on the next morning, her screen flooded with messages. Most were from Jerald, each one nastier than the last.

In their group chat, he stirred chaos with lies. Despite the fact that they had never even shared a bed, he accused her of having a fake chest and painted her as promiscuous while parading himself as the victim.

Drawing in a long breath, Elena refused to give Jerald the satisfaction of a reply.

She already knew what kind of man he was, and wasting another second on him would be beneath her.

Instead, she called her father and told him she would accept the arrangement.

Together, they visited the Wilson family, though Greyson himself was nowhere to be found. Instead, his parents welcomed them.

The moment they heard Elena had agreed, their joy spilled out without restraint.

Her only condition was clear-she wanted the marriage registered immediately.

She explained that legality mattered more to her than ceremony.

A wedding was unnecessary in her eyes.

The Wilsons accepted without protest, anxious she might change her mind if they hesitated.

Everything was settled swiftly, and Greyson's father, Trevor Wilson, used his influence to make sure the paperwork was completed without delay.

That was the first time Elena saw Greyson's picture.

Mina hadn't exaggerated-his features were arresting, and his eyes seemed to hold a depth that could pull anyone in.

If not for the shadow of his illness, a man like him would never have crossed her path, let alone become her husband.

When the certificate was placed in Elena's hands, not even a trace of doubt flickered inside her.

Greyson's mother, Sallie Wilson, pressed a bank card into Elena's hand, insisting that although there would be no grand wedding, the bride should still receive her gift. There was also a generous living allowance.

Their generosity was overwhelming, and the card seemed heavy with more than just money.

Elena didn't refuse. She accepted it with quiet composure.

Her eyes drifted back to the certificate, pausing over the name "Greyson Wilson." She couldn't help but wonder what he would think once he knew.

...

Walking out of the mansion, Elena caught sight of Wilbur's grin stretching wide. He looked utterly satisfied.

"You must've gotten a fair share out of the Wilsons, didn't you?" she asked.

Wilbur stiffened, caught off guard, his smile faltering. "What makes you say that?"

"There's no point pretending." Elena stopped in her tracks and turned to him. "If there wasn't something in it for you, you wouldn't have bothered with me at all."

A flicker of shame crossed his expression. "Elena..."

She lifted her hand, cutting him off before he could string together another excuse.

Her steps carried her forward as she said in a steady voice, "This is where it ends. Don't reach out to me again."

...

News of Elena's marriage to Greyson spread fast, and Mina could hardly believe it was true.

Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it.

"Your dad's cruel, throwing you into this pit knowing exactly what it is. Elena, how could you agree so easily? If you weren't married yet, you could've walked away. Now that you've tied yourself to him, what if he's a pervert and tortures you?"

Mina's distress was written all over her, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Elena's heart softened at her friend's worry. Offering a small smile, she said, "Don't worry. I've got the certificate, but I've no intention of showing my face to him anytime soon."

Mina blinked in shock.

With a sly gleam in her eye, Elena revealed her scheme.

"You said yourself he wouldn't make it past next February. That gives him less than three months. I'll stay hidden until he's too frail to do anything."

For a moment, her plan seemed foolproof. Life, however, had other ideas.

Barely a few days passed, and someone appeared at her door.

"Mrs. Wilson, your husband wants to see you."

The winter air bit down mercilessly.

Inside the luxury car, Elena's chest still carried a hollow chill the heater couldn't touch.

An uneasy stir coiled through her.

But on second thought, she doubted Greyson could do serious harm since he was dying in less than three months.

Drawing in courage, Elena tapped out a message to Mina, urging her to not worry.

The ride ended at the city's grandest club.

The driver opened the door with a respectful gesture, though his attitude lacked any real respect.

Elena stepped out of the car, the man leading the way.

Down a glittering corridor they went, the lights bouncing off every polished surface, until they stopped before a set of ornate double doors. The man pushed them open and said, "Mr. Wilson, she's here."

He gestured her forward without another word.

Elena knew there was no turning back.

Gathering her resolve, she walked in.

The doors shut with a soft but final thud behind her.

A suffocating tension filled the room, making her own heartbeat sound far too loud.

Her eyes searched the room until they caught sight of someone on the sofa.

He sat with one leg thrown over the other, sunk deep into the leather cushions, his face indistinct from afar.

Smoke curled through the dimness, and the faint ember of a cigarette glowed red against the shadows.

Elena steadied herself with a breath and stepped closer to bring his face into view.

Compared to the photos, the man appeared more refined, better looking.

In reality, he carried an elegance the pictures never captured, though his skin looked paler than expected.

The black shirt he wore lay slightly unbuttoned, exposing a long throat and sharply defined collarbones that pulled her gaze.

The pallor of his skin only sharpened the fine lines of his features, giving him an almost fragile allure.

Surprisingly, he carried an energy that clashed with the image of a man on the brink of death.

His striking looks alone were enough to make countless women dream of carrying his children.

When Elena drew closer, her attention landed on the marriage certificate resting in his hand.

That must have been the same document his mother had whisked away.

It made sense-after all, no mother would leave something that important out of her son's sight.

Any hope she'd kept of dodging this moment vanished as reality settled in.

Greyson's stare pinned her in place. "Let's be honest. You did this for the money, right?"

To him, any woman willing to wed him in his condition had to be chasing wealth.

Elena knew there was no running from it. Something dangerous in his tone convinced her that she shouldn't admit it.

If she was already caught, she might as well lean into the game. With a slow, playful smile, she said, "What if I told you I've admired you for a long time, and marrying you was always my intention?"

Greyson's fingers tightened on the cigarette.

Some women might say such things. But not now-not when the clock was ticking.

He read Elena's false charm instantly, saw through the hollow words.

Snuffing the cigarette out in the ashtray, he gestured for her to step closer.

Nerves tightening in her throat, Elena obeyed and edged closer.

In a flash, Greyson dropped his foot to the floor, straightened up, and reached out, pulling her onto his lap before she could react.

The move startled her, and she tumbled against him before he pushed her upright again.

His hand clamped firmly around her waist.

Even through the layers of her clothes, the heat of his touch burned through.

Before she could find her footing, his finger tipped her chin up, his gaze dark and sharp. "Admire me, is that it?"

Though her heart pounded wildly, Elena forced herself to hold steady. She met his stare with defiance and replied, "I'd say nearly every woman in the city holds you in admiration."

A low, cold chuckle rumbled from his chest. "And you're not afraid of dying?"

"I am."

Greyson arched one brow.

Elena continued, "Everyone dies eventually. If I go out as your wife, that's more than enough for me."

Inwardly, he dismissed it as empty words.

With a sharp motion, he shoved her off his lap and even brushed at his trousers where she had touched him, disgust plain in the gesture.

"We're getting divorced," he said simply.

Steadying herself, Elena glanced at the discarded marriage certificate and said evenly, "A divorce takes time to process."

Greyson shot her a look. "Do you really think I need to wait around?"

She pressed her lips together, saying nothing. Given his influence, he wouldn't need to wait.

Greyson rose to his full height, shoulders squared, every movement calculated. He walked past her, making the air feel heavier to her.

One cold glance cut through her, smothering whatever admiration she might have felt moments before.

"I won't agree to a divorce," she said.

Greyson halted, his features hardening.

"I'm serious," Elena said, looking at him.

Suspicion gleamed in Greyson's gaze.

"I've thought this through," Elena said firmly, her voice laced with conviction. "It might sound foolish, but being your wife gives me a real reason to stand by you-to take care of you and give you a family. Even if your days are numbered, I'd rather be with you than live with regret. Maybe I'm selfish, but I'll do whatever it takes to stay."

Emotion laced her words, and a shimmer of tears gathered in her eyes.

A strange sense of pride stirred within her at how easily she could summon such convincing emotion.

Greyson closed the gap between them, his tone sharp as a blade. "Anything, you say?"

The nearness pressed heavily on her, yet Elena kept her head high and answered with conviction, "Of course."

Greyson's lips curled slightly.

That subtle smile made Elena's skin prickle with unease.

Greyson settled onto the sofa again, his knees angled apart.

"Get on your knees," he demanded.

Elena blinked, wondering if she heard him wrong.

The way his eyes locked on her, cold and unyielding, told her she hadn't.

"Even this is too much for you?" Greyson's voice dripped with contempt.

Mina's warning about his twisted ways finally made sense to Elena.

With his contempt plain in his eyes, she frowned. Tossing her coat across the sofa, she tied her hair and climbed onto his lap, knees framing his hips.

"Does this work for you?"

In this position, she was slightly taller than him. Looking down, she saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

The tight black sweater traced every curve, while her jeans outlined her figure. Her straight posture showed both power and elegance.

The closeness left them breathing the same air.

It felt as though one more movement would tip them into something dangerous and passionate.

He had to admit-Elena was breathtaking.

A playful glint lit her eyes, and the faint smile on her lips teased him further.

Greyson leaned back with his arms stretched across the sofa, his gaze deep and drawn into that tempting smile.

"Take it off," he said, his voice low and sharp.

Elena maintained her composure as her hand drifted toward his chest.

Her fingers traced the black buttons, standing out stark against the fabric.

Slowly, she worked each one loose, exposing pale skin with every movement.

First button slipped free.

Then the next.

Each undone button exposed more of him.

Elena's breath caught as she fought to keep her earlier brightness from slipping away.

When her eyes lifted, Greyson's stare was flat and detached. He looked every bit like a ruler lounging on his throne, and she felt reduced to a toy he picked up out of boredom.

Determined not to falter, she kept going until her fingers brushed the hard plane of his abdomen. His hand snapped around hers, firm and unyielding.

The sudden grip made her heart stumble as she stared up into his unyielding gaze.

"If you're this slow, how long will it take for us to have a kid?" His voice carried a note of irritation.

Elena's breathing faltered. Running wasn't an option she would take.

A faint smile forced its way onto her lips. "You shouldn't hurry something like that. Everyone knows the children born of passion grow up stronger and brighter."

"Is that what you believe?" Greyson narrowed his eyes.

"It's true." Elena lifted her other hand, daring to touch the warmth of his skin.

Greyson grabbed that hand too, his grasp firm. "Opening my shirt isn't enough to please me."

Greyson's eyes lingered over Elena's figure, the implication clear in the silence between them.

Elena's jaw tightened, refusing to believe he would push things this far in such a place. She wasn't about to back down.

Her hands tugged at the hem of her sweater, lifting it inch by inch.

A flash of pale skin revealed her narrow waist, the edge of her white underwear stark against the dark fabric.

Then, without warning, he shoved her away, his expression twisted with disgust.

Elena staggered, nearly losing her balance, but quickly steadied herself. Inside, her heart leapt with relief, though she wore the look of innocence on her face.

Greyson watched her, his gaze cutting. The act of playing pure while chasing wealth made him sick.

Did she not understand? If he died, she would be nothing but a widow, forever carrying that brand.

He could turn a blind eye to many things, but marriage was not something to treat like a game.

"Get out," Greyson said coldly, his voice laced with contempt.

To Elena, the words felt like chains falling away. Joy surged through her chest, though she forced her face into reluctant sorrow.

"Honey..." she cooed.

Greyson's patience snapped. "Don't make me repeat myself!"

Not daring to linger, Elena yanked her sweater back down, snatched her coat, and hurried out without looking back.

The moment she stepped out of the club, she let out a shaky breath.

Though she wasn't wearing her coat, the chill didn't touch her. Her pulse was still racing too fast, her whole body thrumming with leftover adrenaline.

It had been reckless, dangerous, a dance at the edge of a blade, but she'd walked away intact.

The very next day, Elena treated Mina to a lavish meal.

"You really have nerves of steel," Mina said, shaking her head in reluctant admiration.

Elena slipped her arm through Mina's with a grin. "Fortune favors the bold."

Mina's eyes widened slightly. "But weren't you afraid he might actually cross the line?"

"Come on! With that face, that body, and that kind of pedigree, what's not to like?"

Mina's brows drew together. "What are you even saying?"

Elena chuckled, mischief glinting in her eyes. "Honestly, if I had a child with him, the kid would be stunning."

Mina froze, caught off guard.

Elena laughed with delight, and Mina told her if he brought up divorce once more, she should simply say yes. Dealing with a man like Greyson was playing with fire.

"I understand." Elena knew Mina's warning came from a place of care, so she didn't argue.

By the time the meal was over, Mina finally felt relieved.

The two wandered through the mall together, chatting easily, when Elena suddenly froze mid-step.

Mina followed her gaze and her expression hardened. "That bastard!"

Elena's stomach churned at the sight of Jerald. It wasn't about lingering feelings-just a visceral disgust that twisted inside her.

"Let's turn back," Elena urged, tugging on Mina's arm.

Mina resisted, her brows furrowed. "Are you scared? Don't worry. I'll teach him a lesson." She yanked her arm free, rolling up her sleeves, ready to storm over.

Elena quickly caught her again. "I'm not scared. I simply don't want to stain myself dealing with trash."

Mina spat on the floor. "You're right. He's nothing but a filthy creep."

They turned to leave, wanting no part of him.

"Elena!" Jerald's voice rang out as he rushed forward, planting himself in their path.

Mina instantly stepped in front of her friend, her body tense, ready for a fight.

But Elena gently pushed Mina aside and faced him head-on. "What is it you want now?"

"You've ruined my life. What do you think I want?" His voice dripped with wounded pride. Losing face had eaten at him, and unless he put her down, he couldn't bear it.

As the words left his mouth, his hand shot forward to seize her arm.

Elena slipped back swiftly, his grasp cutting only air.

Fury twisted his face as he lunged again, this time aiming for her wrist.

Elena's palm cracked across his cheek before he could touch her, the sound sharp and ringing. Pain jolted through her hand, but she didn't flinch.

Jerald's head snapped to the side. Shock froze him for a second before rage took over. "How dare you hit me!"

"You should be grateful it was only my hand," Elena retorted, her eyes blazing with contempt. "Try to lay a finger on me again, and I'll make sure you regret it."

She had never been the type to cower-push her hard enough, and she always struck back twice as fiercely.

Back when she and Jerald were together, their relationship had been more about calls and texts than actual time spent face-to-face.

She had always spoken softly, treated him kindly, and carried herself with grace. To Jerald, that meant she was the perfect obedient girlfriend.

But today shattered that illusion. He hadn't imagined she could burn this hot when cornered.

In his mind, a woman like her needed to be broken, brought under control.

The crowd around them thickened, whispers rising, and Mina tugged Elena toward the exit. She knew too well that in public scuffles, women often bore the brunt of criticism.

Jerald's hand pressed against his reddened cheek, fury boiling over as he yelled after her retreating figure, "Elena! I'll make you regret this!"

Not far off, Greyson had seen everything, even the slap.

His assistant, Frank Begum, tilted his head, astonished at Elena's boldness. "She's got guts. That man's Jerald Martin, a playboy. A while back, a video of him went viral in their circle. Now I see-Mrs. Wilson was the one who leaked it."

Jerald had tried to erase every trace of it, but Frank had already dug it up. He handed his phone to Greyson, the evidence playing out in silence.

Greyson watched the video in silence, his face betraying nothing.

Frank slid the phone back into his pocket with a faint sigh. "Jerald's the type to hold a grudge. After being humiliated like that, he'll probably try something."

"Anyone who acts ought to be prepared for the fallout," Greyson said coldly as he turned away. "If she ends up facing retaliation, then she brought it on herself."

Frank wondered if he should remind Greyson that Elena was his wife.

He quickened his pace to catch up. "Sir, do you still plan to divorce her?"

Greyson's brow furrowed, the image of Elena's fake smile flashing across his mind.

"Yes," he answered curtly.

...

Elena stayed by Mina's side until nightfall. Mina's anger hadn't cooled, her voice sharp as she railed against Jerald, though her worry for Elena was obvious.

But Elena showed no trace of fear.

"Why not turn to your husband?" Mina asked. "You're still married. He should help you put Jerald in his place."

A flicker of unease rippled through Elena's chest at the mention of Greyson. Just the thought of asking him for help made her stomach tighten.

That man was nothing short of vile.

"You think I'd ever willingly accept him as my husband?" Elena scoffed.

"Then what's your plan? Why don't you just move in with me for now?" Mina asked.

"He wouldn't dare to lay a finger on me."

Elena repeated her assurances until Mina finally relented and let her head home.

The apartment she returned to was modest, a two-bedroom her father had bought for her before remarrying. It wasn't spacious, but it was hers, and it was enough.

After a shower, she curled up on the sofa, scrolling through videos, when her phone buzzed with an unfamiliar string of digits.

She let it ring a moment before picking up. "Who's calling?"

"Courthouse. Tomorrow morning. Eight o'clock. Divorce." The voice on the other end was clipped, cold, and unmistakable.

Elena's eyes flicked to the screen, confirming the strange number.

Her first thought was disbelief. How had Greyson even gotten her contact?

Then the realization hit. For a man of his means, tracking down her number would have been child's play.

He really was relentless.

Elena sat up cross-legged and said in a sweet voice, "When I married you, I never thought of a divorce."

"Not divorcing? Then you're just waiting around to be a widow once I'm gone?"

His words struck Elena like a slap. Yes, she had thought of it herself once, but hearing him talk about his own approaching death like that was something else entirely.

"Don't talk like that," she said quickly. "Medical technology is so advanced now. With treatment and the right mindset, any illness can be fought. You just need to cooperate and stay hopeful."

She meant every word.

Everyone, sick or not, wanted to hear something reassuring.

Greyson stood at the window, gazing out, picturing the cool, detached look that was probably on her face at that moment.

"If you don't want to make this harder than it already is, then be sensible," Greyson said flatly.

Elena could tell he had no intention of embracing this marriage.

Neither of them were naive; he could see straight through her sincerity, and she knew it.

"I won't agree to a divorce," she replied calmly. "Not unless you explain it to your parents, and they approve. Then I'll follow."

Maybe marriage had been an impulse, but whoever she married, the risks and struggles would likely be the same.

At least with him, the path felt a little more straightforward.

Greyson's eyes narrowed to slits.

She was shrewd.

His parents adored her-there was no chance they'd ever side with him on this.

The thought of her manipulations only deepened his distaste.

"You think defying me comes without cost?"

His low voice carried a dangerous edge, making Elena's chest tighten with unease.

"It's late," she answered quickly, forcing calm into her tone. "Focus on your health. When you've decided-or if your parents agree-we'll discuss it then. Goodnight."

Before he could fire back, she ended the call in one swift motion.

Exhaling slowly, she lowered the phone, staring at the unfamiliar digits glowing on the screen.

After a pause, she saved the number under his name, Greyson Wilson.

Her mind conjured his pale, striking face, and she could almost feel the storm brewing behind it.

No doubt he was livid.

Better to keep her distance, she thought. The less she saw of him, the safer she'd feel.

But the next morning, Sallie dispatched someone to fetch Elena.