Page 16 of The Bad Boy's Fake Wife

But I notice Emma’s eyes dimming the longer we stand here, pretending. Guilt tightens in my chest.

After the ceremony, Zain strolls over, slow and smug.

“Congratulations, newlyweds,” he drawls. “I don’t know how you pulled this off, but you won’t get away with it.”

“Thank you,” I say brightly, pretending not to have heard the threat. He studies us, looking for cracks in our perfect façade. Finding none, he turns around and leaves.

Emma sighs. “I can’t believe he’s an even bigger pain in the butt than you are.” She smirks. “You’re a saint compared to him, actually.”

I snort. “I’m a saint compared to most people. You just happen to see a harsher side of me.”

“Why?” she asks, her voice quiet, almost unsure.

The question catches me off guard. I don’t know what to say. Lately, we’ve been challenging this dynamic—this constant push and pull. And suddenly, I wish we weren’t just enemies. I wish we were at least…friends.

But that thought is too dangerous.

“Never mind,” Emma says when I take too long to answer.

I sigh. “I don’t want to go down that road, Emma. Not here. Not now.” My voice lowers. “Anyone could overhear us.”

“You’re right.” She forces a smile and looks anywhere but at me. “Excuse me, I need to find Mia. I’ll be handing the bouquet directly to her instead of throwing it. Not sure it’ll work considering this marriage isn’t real, but I figure it’s the thought that counts.”

She walks away, but her words sit heavy in my chest.

I grab a glass of champagne, but it does nothing to drown the unease curling in my stomach.

From a distance, I watch Emma move through the crowd, swaying slightly with each step, as if dancing to her own silent music…except the song doesn’t sound happy.

A man I don’t recognize steps up beside me.

“Congratulations, sir. Looks like you get to keep the company after all,” he says.

I smile, hoping it reaches my eyes.

“Thank you,” I reply, forcing a grin. “I hope you’re enjoying the food and drinks, but I can’t wait to take my wife away from all of this.”

“Now that you mention it…”

I turn to see Mark, the company manager, approaching with an easy smile.

“On behalf of the company, we’re gifting you two a fully paid honeymoon to Bora Bora! The plane leaves tonight, so you better start packing.”

My stomach drops.

I knew a honeymoon would be necessary, but hearing it out loud makes it feel horrifyingly real.

“How did you know my wife likes Bora Bora?” I ask, forcing a smirk.

Mark laughs. “Lucky guess. The private jet is ready whenever you are.”

He walks away, leaving me with this new problem. Maybe I could let Emma go alone—call it a vacation for her. But that would raise suspicion, and we can’t afford that.

From across the garden, Emma is laughing at something Mia said. But the second she sees me watching her, her smile fades.

I pretend not to notice and beckon her over.

She approaches, a fake smile replacing the real one she had a moment ago.

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