We woke early the next morning, and though Vegas was in the same time-zone as L.A., I felt jet-lagged. Having sex all night and getting only a few hours of sleep could do that to a person, I supposed.

The way home was plagued with minute details, like timed exits and entrances, and staggered departures to ensure Estelle couldn't catch on to what we'd done. We'd both received a hefty number of calls and texts from her—angrier every time—and we had to be extra careful getting back to Los Angeles.

In the jet, we held hands, peaceful and quiet, both of us too exhausted to do or say much. Axel would likely go home and nap, but I was on the clock. Later that evening was Estelle's rehearsal dinner, and while I'd finalized most of the details ahead of time, there were always last-minute things.

According to Estelle's frantic texts this morning, there were many items to still go over before tonight.

"She'll know," I said, squeezing Axel's hand as the plane dipped downward, descending into LAX. "One look at me and she'll witness my marital bliss."

"Then you lie through your teeth, babe." Axel squeezed back, but didn't look at me. His gaze was fixed on the window, and though I couldn't see it, I sensed the tension in his neck, in his shoulders. He was worried, too. "You have to put on a face of sadness. Pretend like you're devastated, act like we haven't seen each other since I left you at city hall."

"Axel, I—" I gulped, picturing how I'd felt when he stormed out, how Chi had had to basically carry me to my studio and tuck me into bed.

Because of that—and many other instances of disappointment—I knew what devastation was like. But did I need to put myself through that again?

"I know." He turned to me, eyes deep and dark, lips flattened. "Trust me, I don't like it, either. I also have to pretend, and she knows me much better. She can usually see right through me. Don't be surprised if I avoid her and you until we're safe to reveal the truth."

I gulped again, this time my saliva turning sour and scraping down my throat. The notion of having to be around him with Estelle in the vicinity was terrifying, since we could never keep our hands to ourselves. But the notion of not seeing him at all was almost as terrifying, if not more.

When I wasn't with him, my thoughts wandered to all the wrong places. It ventured into those secret hiding spots my anxiety tended to find with ease, to bring back all sorts of fears I thought I'd erased. When Axel wasn't near, those spots opened. My anxiety peaked.

But I had to be strong. If I made it through this, if we both did, bliss awaited us, right?

"I need to work on my excuses, like, now," I said, checking my phone as we rolled into Axel's private hangar.

He was consulting his own voicemails and messages, squinting at nothing in particular as he listened. "She's livid. Says she came by my penthouse last night and was told I was 'out', and that wasn't a satisfying enough answer."

"Fuck." I hissed, listening to a voicemail of my own, also from Estelle, berating me for not answering her, the bride, immediately. "She came looking for me, too, but thinks I didn't answer the door. Wanted to convince my landlord to let her in but it was too late, and no one was on the property. Thank goodness."

I shot her a quick text claiming I was recovering from a severe hangover and would call her in a little while.

"Okay, the fun begins." Axel stopped at the plane's exit door and peered outside. Sun shone on his face, basking him in gorgeous light. He stood tall and proud, but there was still so much tension in his arms and back. "I'm taking my usual driver to my place. The secret services will take you somewhere downtown where you'll call an Uber. Make it look like you were out all night getting drunk."

"Right," I nodded, "which goes along with the message I sent her about being hungover."

"Perfect." Before I crossed the threshold, he gripped my wrist, stopping me. "Remember," he whispered, placing his lips on mine for a quick kiss, "that I love you. That this is temporary. That if we succeed, if we get her married, then we no longer need to hide. She'll have to accept us."

I kissed him back, loving the warmth of his mouth, yearning for his tongue.

I knew better. If we started that now, we'd never finish it.

"But will she?"

Axel moved a few hairs from my forehead and left a small kiss there. "Estelle has changed in the past few years. The girl I used to know is gone. She's ruthless, calculating, fiercely protective. So, to tell you the truth...I have no idea what she'll accept or not, nor what she'll do, and it frightens me."

For Axel to be frightened took a lot, I presumed. Which meant my terror was justified. My paranoia over us being discovered, over all the things Estelle could potentially do to ruin us, was legitimate.

Again, I internally questioned how I was supposed to face her now, after what we'd done in secret. And how long it'd take for her to figure it all out.

It shouldn't have surprised me that Estelle wouldn't wait for me to call her. As I was left downtown to find a different way home, my phone rang with the special ringtone I'd given her—an ear-piercing rock song I loathed.

I glared at the screen, unsure if this was the right time to answer her. I'd have preferred to be at home, snuggled in bed, ready to take a nap. But if I denied one more of her calls, she'd track me down and throw me into her car's trunk for safekeeping.

I wouldn't put anything past Estelle Levine, ever again.

"Hello?" My voice was hoarse, not on purpose, but it'd work well for my upcoming lies.

Downtown drinking, fell asleep in the bar, woke up like this?

"For fucks' sake, Vivienne," said Estelle, more enraged than I'd heard it so far, but also laced with...panic? Confusion? I couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry," I said, groaning as I sat on a bench to await my Uber driver; they were five minutes away. "I was drinking, and I was—"

"I've been texting you for days, Vivienne, so your drinking is no excuse. Where the fuck are you?"

I swallowed, prepared to toss out my story and save my own ass. "Listen, Estelle, I went through quite the ordeal the other day, in case you forgot. Losing the man that I love and all? Forgive me if you were the last person I wanted to talk to for a minute."

"Then forgive me if I don't give a shit," Estelle spat, sounding like she was spitting; on me, on her phone's screen, on the sidewalk, who knew? "I have no sympathy for your emotions. You were hired to provide a service to me, and you're not providing it. I have every reason to be pissed."

I gritted my teeth. "You do, but I have every reason to need a minute to digest all this."

"I didn't hire you to digest—"

"You didn't hire me, exactly," I cut her off. It was a risky move, considering all I'd already said to her, but I couldn't let her pull me even farther down. "Your brother did. Brother that I'm in love with, and that you've blocked me from marrying."

"You were only marrying him to save your career. Don't bullshit me." She laughed—a bitter, borderline snake-like noise that gave me goosebumps. "Cut the crap, Vivienne. You don't love Axel, and you're only wallowing because you missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime, since I caught you. Grow up, wipe your fake tears, and get to work. Might I remind you that the rehearsal dinner is tonight?"

It hurt; every single one of her words buried deep into my heart and tore it to shreds. The less she believed in my feelings for Axel, the more she made me question them.

Did I love him? Or was I desperate to save my position at the firm, to protect myself from Brent?

No, no, she was lying. She was livid that she caught us, livid that she wasn't in on the ceremony. Livid that we'd evaded her P.I. one time too many and we'd gotten that far in our planning.

Estelle Levine didn't know the first thing about me or my feelings—but to make this work, to keep arranging her wedding and keep my job, I had to put on a facade.

"Lie through your teeth, babe," came Axel's voice, echoing in my head, reminding me what was at stake. Us, our relationship, our potential happiness—it all depended on me acting.

I was never a good actress.

"I'm well aware it's tonight." I took care to not answer all her taunts. It wasn't worth it; she'd dispel anything I said. The bride is always right, I'd learned from a fellow associate at the firm, not Brent, thankfully. "And everything was finalized before the events of the past few days, so you have nothing to worry about."

"Nothing? Are you sure about that?" Estelle let out an exaggerated sigh, and I imagined her rolling her eyes. "The caterer reached out to me. ME. Because you weren't answering your phone."

I paused, getting into my Uber. "Huh? I have no missed calls or emails from them."

"Interesting, isn't it?" Estelle's tone was light and airy, overwhelmingly so. "How you let your heart and pussy get out of control, and you forget how to do your job? Luckily for you, all they wanted was to confirm the place and time of the event."

I remained confused as the car sped off, dodging the L.A. morning traffic. I couldn't believe she'd just used the word pussy in a conversation with me, her wedding planner. I'd heard tons of profanity in my line of work, but not like this. Not in such an accusatory manner.

"But I have no calls from them, Estelle. They didn't try to reach me at all." As I said this, I browsed through my spam calls app, and through my spam emails, and even through my spam text messages folder—and nothing.

Why did the caterer lie?

Unless...Estelle spoke with them behind my back and asked them to call her directly. A means to dismantle my work and make it look like I didn't know what I was doing.

Sly, this one. She'd interfered at Axel and I's wedding, and now she was interfering with my job? Did she want me off the job? Had she been plotting this all along?

She'd have to use all kinds of sneaky ruses to dismiss me; she hadn't hired me. Axel did. It'd be up to Axel to cut me loose, and after all we'd gone through, he'd never do that.

So Estelle was trying to undermine me, to find an alternate means to part ways with me as her wedding planner?

The nerve. I'd worked tirelessly for months to give her a fancy but fast wedding, with all the bells and whistles that'd generally take closer to a year to pull off. I'd bent over backwards, literally, to make sure she booked nothing but the most upscale vendors. I'd hooked her up with the best seamstresses and recommended some of the most prestigious decorations and linens options I'd ever given to a client.

And she did this?

I'd have to warn Axel. I wasn't one hundred percent positive that she'd actually spoken to the caterer, but it wouldn't surprise me. Her future wife was, after all, a staple in the food scene in L.A. She'd know the contacts, how things worked behind-the-scenes.

She'd know how to fuck me over.

"I don't care if I broke you and my brother up, Vivienne. It may make me look like the villain, but so be it. If my intention is to protect my family, then call me the evil queen. Despite all that..." She sounded like she was sipping from something. "You're still my wedding planner, until further notice. Which means I need things done properly. I need you to be available to all vendors, to Mollie, and most importantly, to me."

I chewed the insides of my cheeks. "Yes, Estelle. Or would you rather be called Miss Levine?"

She snorted into the receiver. "Don't get smart with me. I don't like you, and I've had a bad vibe about you since St. Tropez. But you and my brother signed a contract, so you'll honor it. You'll behave, you'll assist, then you'll get paid, and all will be well."

"Your brother—"

"Is the one who makes all the decisions, yes, I know. As you did such a good job of reminding me. I'm not sorry about what I did," she said, and she sounded the absolute opposite of sorry; at least she wasn't a liar. "It was necessary. And you're going to have to get over it, because you'll be seeing Axel often in the next few days. As my brother, I need him around."

I couldn't stop myself; I growled. "You're doing that on purpose. He doesn't need to be there every step of the way. You don't need to dangle him in front of me, that's—"

"I don't care. How many times must I say it?" I could envision her smiling; a sharp, slicing type of smile that had nothing but malice concealed underneath it.

Why, why was her grudge against me so massive? All I'd done was heed her crazy commands, enable her speedy, luxurious wedding to take place without a hitch. And yes, I wanted to be with her brother, but how was that her problem? How did our love life have anything to do with her?

"How am I to deal with facing him?" I sniffled, my hardened persona evaporated. It was too hard to pretend, to not let those feelings from days ago wash over me again. It wasn't real; I had married Axel, we were together. But it was so difficult not to get absorbed in my own lies.

"The wedding is in a week. Figure it out. He'll be around, I know him. And he'll be strong, so you'd better buck up and put on some waterproof mascara and grow a pair. I told you, I have no sympathy. Not after what you came so close to doing to my family."

It still burned so badly that she thought I was out to do Axel and his family harm. It never even occurred to me to play such a scam on anyone, ever. But Estelle thought she saw a walking red flag. She thought I was here to take her brother, take his money, and destroy their legacy from the inside.

How would I convince her that wasn't me, never had been, never would be?

"Once it's over, you don't have to be around me, my brother, or anyone in my family, ever again. Use that as your mantra, or whatever, and you'll do fine."

That idea jolted my anxiety once more. Estelle had no clue that we'd never be in separate circles. I'd always be around; Axel had made sure of that.

I was with Axel, for better or for worse, and Estelle wouldn't have a choice once the truth got out.

The deed was done, and with that anti-divorce clause, there was no going back. There was nothing Estelle could do to interrupt our love, to break us apart. She had no idea, none whatsoever, that all her little games would only test her relationship with her own brother.

As I exited from the Uber and hurried up to my studio, I prayed I'd made the right decision in marrying Axel. Because in the process, I might have begun to tear apart one of the most powerful, most wealthy families in the country.

☼☼☼