Chapter 2

I grabbed the credit card Jordan had given me and headed straight for the most exclusive mall in Anliwood.

I was ready to test his limits.

I walked into a high-end store and pointed at a row of bags. "Pack up all of these except the green one."

The sales associate's eyes went wide.

Jordan, following behind me, couldn't help but wince.

But he didn't say a word, just silently pulled out his card and handed it over.

"Go ahead and swipe it," he said. His voice carried a faint tremor, barely noticeable unless one was really listening.

Inside, I was practically doing a happy dance. He should pay for his act.

Next stop was the jewelry store, where I laid eyes on a diamond necklace with a price tag in the tens of millions.

"I'll take this one," I announced.

Jordan's face lost another shade of color.

He took a deep breath and pulled out his card again. "Swipe it," he said. He practically growled the words through clenched teeth.

I was barely holding back my laughter as I continued my mission to blow through Jordan's money.

By the time the afternoon was over, I'd swept through the entire mall, clothes, shoes, antiques, paintings, you name it. If it had a ridiculous price tag, it was mine.

Jordan followed me the whole way, his face shifting from pale to livid to nearly dark.

His assistant trailed even further behind, glued to his phone, probably giving the Lynch family a live update on my shopping carnage.

I could just imagine Jordan's father cracking up on the other end of the call.

"Nina is awesome. That's exactly how she should deal with Jordan," he'd probably be saying.

And Jordan's father must've praised him a hundred times already. "Good boy, that's how you treat your wife. Be generous."

By evening, we came back with a mountain of shopping bags. Dozens of bags were piled high, overflowing the trunk and back seat.

When we got home, Jordan hauled everything inside in silence, then slammed the door behind him and locked himself away in his study.

I arched my eyebrow. So, was he actually pissed now? He couldn't keep up the cool act anymore, huh?

I sprawled out on the couch, completely relaxed, waiting for him to come out and give me a piece of his mind.

After I waited for ages, there was still not a peep from the study.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I quietly crept over and pressed my ear to the door.

Inside, I could hear muffled, intermittent sounds.

"Dad, I was wrong." It was Jordan's voice, shaky and thick with emotion. "I shouldn't have cared about the money. Money's just material things, and my wife is what really matters.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll change, I promise. I won't ever dare do it again."

I was speechless.

Man, here I was thinking he was in there doing some serious soul-searching, but nope, he was actually on the phone, pouring his heart out to his dad. Those two were unbelievable.

After a while, the study door opened. Jordan stepped out, his eyes red and puffy from crying.

He walked up to me and bowed deeply. "Honey, I was wrong," he said.

I was trying not to burst out laughing. "So, what exactly did you do wrong?"

"I shouldn't have had any negative feelings about your shopping," he said, like he was reciting lines for a test. "Every time you shop, it makes our relationship stronger.

"Not only should I not feel bad about the money, but I should also feel honored and proud."

I couldn't help myself and burst out laughing.

Jordan looked up at me, totally lost. "Honey, what's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said, waving it off. "I just think you've got real talent for comedy."

He didn't get the joke. He just stared at me with a goofy grin. "Honey, you're laughing. Does that mean you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked.

I nodded. "Nope, not mad."

I wasn't even mad to begin with; I just wanted to see how long he could keep up the act. It turned out that he wasn't pretending at all.

He was genuinely scared, scared of me, but even more scared of his dad. That realization made things even more interesting.

*****

The next day, I got an unexpected call. It was Jordan's stepmother.

She asked me out for afternoon tea, her tone sharp and unfriendly. I could already guess what she was up to.

She'd probably try to pay me off with a fat check and tell me to dump her precious boy.

I had been through this high-society routine before. I accepted the invitation with a smile.

The meeting was set at an exclusive club.

When I showed up, the lady was already there, dripping in jewels and designer gear.

She sized me up, her gaze full of disdain.

"Ms. Brennan, name your price," she said, cutting straight to the chase.

I smiled, "Mrs. Lynch, what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Don't play dumb," she said, pulling a checkbook out of her Hermès bag. "Just say a number and walk away from my son."

I picked up my coffee and took a slow sip.

"Mrs. Lynch, I think you've misunderstood," I said. "What Jordan and I have is real."

I really laid it on thick when I said it, making it sound like I meant every word.

She let out a cold laugh. "Real? Please. Who doesn't know you're just after the Lynch family's money?"

"Mrs. Lynch," I said, setting down my coffee cup and giving her my best hurt expression. "How could you say that about me? Sure, my family's not as loaded as yours, but we're decent folks. I've got my pride too, you know."

Just as we were locked in our dramatic standoff, my phone rang. It was Jordan. I put it on speaker, making sure she could hear every word.

"Honey, where are you?" Jordan's voice came through, all soft and sweet.

"I'm having afternoon tea with someone," I said, deliberately keeping it vague.

There was a brief silence on the other end. Then Jordan's voice shot up, full of panic.

"What? Is it Riley? Wait there, I'm coming right now." With that, he hung up.

Riley's face instantly soured.

I gave her an innocent shrug. "Guess Jordan's really worried about me, huh?"

Less than ten minutes later, the door to the private room burst open with a bang.

Jordan rushed in like a whirlwind, his bodyguards right on his heels.

He made a beeline for me, pulling me behind him and shooting a wary glare at his stepmother.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" he roared. "I'm warning you, don't you dare touch my wife."

Riley was caught off guard by his intensity, then immediately got pissed.

"Jordan, is that any way to talk to your stepmom?" she snapped.

"Cut the crap," Jordan shot back. "My dad said it himself, anyone who dares to make my wife suffer is picking a fight with him."

He played the ultimate card, his dad. Riley was instantly shut down.

Jordan gently took my hand. "Honey, let's go. Just ignore her."

I gave him a weak nod, playing along. "Okay."

As we walked out of the private room, I shot a look back.

Riley's face was livid with fury, and she was crushing her checkbook so hard it was bent out of shape.

I was absolutely loving it.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked Jordan.

He scratched his head, looking a little sheepish. "I had my assistant put a tracker on your phone."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow.

He instantly got flustered. "Dad said I have to watch out for you 24/7."

Of course, it was always his dad pulling the strings. His dad was basically his get-out-of-jail-free card.

"Your stepmom really isn't a fan of me," I said.

"Just ignore her." Jordan shrugged, looking annoyed. "She's jealous my dad treats me well and can't get over my mom."

Whoa, so there were some spicy family secrets here.

"My dad says you're the real boss of this house. If she ever tries to mess with you, let me know, he'll deal with her himself," Jordan added.

I patted his shoulder with a teasing grin. "Good boy, nicely done."

He paused, blinking in confusion. "Wait, honey, what did you say?"

I cleared my throat. "Nothing, I meant, honey, nicely done."

He instantly lit up, grinning ear to ear.