Page 11 of Her Possessive Dominant Fake Husband

Alexander

It was first Friday after our wedding and it began with its usual steady flow of disappointment.

My mother was fretting over Claire like she'd been gifted a fragile heirloom, passing her dish after dish as if food might make her feel loved and accepted.

And across the table, my brother James sat next to Allison, their stolen glances practically lethal. Of course, I also caught Allison’s lingering stare on me… and on Claire, which instantly put my hackles up.

Claire sat beside me, her voice distracting, full of light and sweetness. Her bright responses seemed to warm up the room and everyone in it, which had my mother fawning over her even more. I hadn’t expected that, but I wasn’t complaining.

And I sat, stewing in resentment. Watching her absorb the chaos, I wondered how long she’d last before she cracked like everyone else. My way of life tends to break people, and that sunshiny attitude of hers is the kind that goes first.

"You must try this, dear," my mother insisted, placing another serving on Claire's plate. She hadn't shown this much enthusiasm since James started bringing Allison to dinner.

"I'm sure it's delicious," Claire said with a smile that made even the icy walls of the dining room seem warmer. Her gaze met mine, sparkling and sweet. I couldn’t help but be impressed by her.

I pretended to be disinterested, stabbing at my steak, but I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering back to her. She met every challenge with a grace I found hard to ignore. Even the usual antagonism from my father couldn't pierce her soft armor.

“So, when will there be a little Reed running around?” Allison’s words brought the conversation to a screeching halt, and she didn't even have the decency to look apologetic for being so rude.

Claire's hand brushed against mine, a light, accidental touch that sent an electric surge through the entire room. She seemed to radiate something genuine, something that almost made this charade bearable. I could tell it unnerved everyone else too.

She let out a light laugh. “Well, it’s a little soon for that,” she said, somehow upbeat. “But I can’t wait.” With that, she wound her arms around me and planted a kiss on my temple which was so unexpected. She was unbelievably good at this.

But Allison wasn’t done; her gaze locked on Claire, calculating, searching for a weakness. "I see you're all settled in," she said, the underlying challenge clear.

Claire just smiled. "It's been wonderful, everyone’s so welcoming."

Welcoming. I bit down a smile. That probably stung at least two people in the room.

"Ah, the newlyweds," my father finally said, as if acknowledging us was a grand gesture.

James and Allison shifted closer to one another in their seats, and the air thickened with the kind of toxic cocktail I usually washed down with scotch. Claire took it in stride, talking about some inconsequential nonsense with a sincerity that was beginning to make me suspicious. How could she be so unaffected by all this?

The answer to my question stormed in with the subtlety of a fireworks display.

Jen, in all her self-entitled glory, strutted into the dining room wearing a designer dress that I’m sure Claire had to pay for. "Am I late?" she asked, like a diva late for curtain call. Every eye in the room snapped to her, exactly as she'd planned.

Even Claire looked startled. Behind her sister, an unsure looking doorman stuttered about her letting herself in.

Jen twirled, flaunting the dress as if showcasing the ultimate prize. "Isn't it amazing? A little gift from my generous sister."

I clenched my jaw. Typical. I caught Claire’s mortified expression, a mixture of embarrassment and resignation. It seemed Jen's entitled behavior followed her wherever she went.

"And it's just my color," Jen said, draping herself into the empty seat next to Claire.

The dam inside me broke. "And what would you know about color, Jen?" I said, my tone laced with venom. "Other than how to grift the green from your sister?" I’ve heard their phone calls, seen the text messages, heard the whispers for the leech that is Claire’s sister.

Claire looked at me, wide-eyed, shocked at my audacity.

Jen’s eyes widened in mock horror. "Someone’s touchy."

"You show up here, uninvited, wearing something that you clearly didn’t earn, and I'm the touchy one?" I didn’t bother hiding my disdain. "You really are something else."

Jen shrugged, unfazed. "Can't help it if my big sister is so giving, can I?"

Claire tried to smooth things over. "It's really not a big deal," she said, too soft for this battlefield. But I wasn’t done yet.

"It is a big deal when people take advantage of you," I said. I wondered if Claire understood that this went far beyond a dress. That I was speaking more about my family than hers.

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