Chapter 2
I suspected I was hearing things.
Or maybe that bowl of caviar had expired, and now I was hallucinating from food poisoning.
I turned to Simon, his jaw clenched so tight, his bloodshot eyes swirling with overwhelming rage and a barely noticeable trace of madness.
"Simon," I asked through gritted teeth, "are you out of your mind?"
Simon replied in a low voice, his words practically dripping with resentment, "Say one more word, and I'll leak that video of you drunk at last year's company party, hugging a trash can and yelling for your dad."
I was stunned.
Damn it.
Fine, you got me.
That was the only real black mark on my life, and Simon always knew how to use it to keep me in check.
The emcee, a pro who had seen it all, was stunned for a second, then snapped back to life. He shouted with the kind of excitement one would expect at an Olympic gold medal win, "This is incredible.
"Turns out the groom's true love has been right by his side all along. What a romantic twist. Let's give a round of applause to the happy couple."
The crowd was dead silent for a moment, then erupted into thunderous applause.
Some were shocked, some were here for the drama, a few genuinely wished us well, but most were just clapping because they didn't want to get on the Carter family's bad side.
I spotted my mom in the crowd, her face flushed with excitement. She was clapping wildly and mouthing to me, "Julia, you did it. You're marrying into a rich family."
I honestly wanted to disown her right then and there.
The rest was a haze. I barely knew what was happening.
We exchanged rings, kissed, and poured champagne into the tower.
When Simon's lips touched mine, I caught a faint whiff of tobacco and the crisp, woody scent he always wore.
His kiss was icy and possessive, like he was branding me as his.
The only thing running through my mind was that he was definitely going to notice my garlic breath from the food I had eaten.
Was this basically chemical warfare?
After the ceremony, it was time for the family toast.
Simon took me by the hand and brought me to his parents.
Eric Carter, Simon's father, looked stern, his face giving nothing away.
Evelyn Carter, Simon's father, wore an expression as if she had watched Simon get snatched up by someone totally beneath him, heartbroken and furious.
She gave me a once-over, her gaze so sharp it felt like she was X-raying me from head to toe.
Finally, her eyes landed on my slightly bloated stomach from all the food I had just eaten.
"How far along are you?" Evelyn asked coldly.
I was caught off guard.
"Don't pretend," Evelyn said, her lips twisting in sarcasm. "If you weren't pregnant, why would our Simon marry you so suddenly? Especially at an event like this?"
It made sense.
She thought I got knocked up to snag the spot, pushing out the original bride.
This was the messiest drama ever. Just like that, I went from watching the show to being the leading lady.
I started to say something, wanting to explain that I was overstuffed from eating too much.
But Simon said first, his tone completely unruffled, "Mom, she's not pregnant."
Evelyn paused, caught off guard. She asked, "Then why did you?"
"Vivian betrayed me," Simon said, his eyes going cold. "Julia's the one I choose."
He kept his face blank, but I could hear that screw it, nothing left to lose vibe in his voice.
Evelyn's face twisted even more.
She probably thought it was the ultimate humiliation that Simon would rather marry someone with a bottomless stomach than admit he had been dumped.
When it was time to toast the guests, I put my food blogger expertise to good use.
At every table, I called out each dish with precision and gave a fair, professional critique.
"Mr. Williams, you should try this dish. The timing is spot on; the abalone is tender, the sea cucumber is perfectly springy, though the broth is just a tad salty."
"Mr. Anderson, this steamed veggie is really fresh, but it was left in for about ten seconds too long, so it's just a touch overcooked."
Everyone at the table just stared in awkward silence.
Simon's face went from dark to absolutely pitch black.
He grabbed my arm and said, "Julia, shut up."
I gave him my best innocent look and blinked. I answered, "I'm just helping you keep the food up to par. Wouldn't want the guests gossiping that you're cheap and can't even throw a decent wedding."
His temples were throbbing with anger.
After making the rounds to toast the guests, I barely drank anything, but somehow, I managed to stuff myself half full all over again.
Finally, after the wedding wrapped up and the guests had all left, Simon shoved me into his Rolls-Royce.
The atmosphere in the car was so tense, I didn't even dare to breathe.
I snuck a peek at him. He was leaning back in his seat, eyes closed, his long lashes casting shadows beneath them. He looked drained and lonely.
Without that manic energy from earlier, Simon actually seemed kind of vulnerable now.
All that gloating I had been feeling faded away.
"So, uh..." I cleared my throat awkwardly and asked, "You alright?"
He didn't open his eyes, just gave a low grunt.
"Hey, cheer up," I tried to comfort him. "Don't get hung up on one girl; there are plenty out there. It's not worth it, especially for someone who doesn't even care about you."
Simon finally opened his eyes and gave me a look, his gaze deep and unreadable.
"Who told you I don't love her?" Simon said, his voice low.
I froze, caught completely off guard.
"Then why did you..." I said.
Simon said, his lips curling into a frosty smile, "Loving her and hating her aren't mutually exclusive. She made me the joke of the whole city, so I'm going to make sure she regrets it for the rest of her life.
"She wanted true love? Well, I'll show her; she dumped me, and I can marry whoever I want and still live better than she ever will."
I finally understood.
I was nothing more than his prop for getting back at his ex.
I was that random person Simon grabbed.
"So, does this mean we're actually husband and wife now?" I asked cautiously.
"Only on paper," Simon said flatly. "After a year, we'll split. I'll make sure you get a settlement, enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life."
One year.
Just a sham marriage.
And there was money in it for me.
My eyes lit up.
Wasn't this basically a paid vacation?
"Deal," I said and clapped my hands. "But can I get an advance on that payout? I've been eyeing a limited-edition cookware set lately."
Simon stared at me, at a total loss for words.
He gave me a look as if I had landed from Mars.
"Julia," he said slowly, "is there anything in your head besides food?"
I gave it some real thought, seriously considering his question.
"Actually, there is," I said.
"What?" Simon asked.
"How to make my meals even better," I replied, grinning.