Who Knew My Enigmatic Wife Was So Close?

Inside an opulent hotel suite, Alison Conley gasped for breath, her head falling back as she clung to the man before her. Her fingers, trembling with passion, left trails of red on his back.

Then, like a wave retreating to the sea, exhaustion claimed her, and she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

It was the sound of running water that stirred Alison from the depths of slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, memories from the previous night flooding back in disjointed fragments.

She had been drugged-that much she remembered-and then there was the man, a shadowy figure with a strikingly handsome face that seemed oddly familiar, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen him before.

Just then, the water shut off, and the bathroom door creaked open. A tall man stepped out, his presence commanding the room.

A towel hung loosely around his waist, and droplets of water clung to his tousled hair, tracing a slow, tantalizing path down his sculpted abs before disappearing into the grooves of his V-line, each drop amplifying the magnetic allure he exuded.

Alison struggled to prop herself up, her body aching in protest. Her gaze locked onto his face, and shock slammed into her like a tidal wave.

How could it be him?

This wasn't just any man-it was her husband, Nicholas Bowman. The very same man who had moved abroad since the beginning of their marriage.

She instinctively recoiled, her voice barely a whisper as she stammered, "Last night, did we...?"

Nicholas approached, his footsteps slow and deliberate, eyes sharp as they bore down into hers. "How much do you want?"

The words cut through the air like a blade, leaving Alison stunned.

Even though she recognized Nicholas, it was clear he had no idea who she was.

A bitter laugh bubbled up inside her.

Alison had married Nicholas in her stepsister's place, filling in for Lindsay Powell.

Back then, when Nicholas' grandfather, Geoffrey Bowman, was on his deathbed, he was desperate to see his grandson married.

While it was Geoffrey's insistence had forced the union, Nicholas himself had loathed the idea of a wife being thrust upon him. He even sent his assistant, Joshua Fletcher, to handle the marriage registration, avoiding Alison throughout the whole process.

As soon as the marriage became official, Nicholas left for a business venture abroad, leaving Alison with nothing but a promise-that they would get a divorce after two years.

Two years had passed. Alison had caught wind that Nicholas had returned from abroad, but never expected their first encounter would be in bed.

"Keep your mouth shut, take the check, and leave." Nicholas' cold, detached gaze slid over Alison as he reached into the bedside drawer. He pulled out a check, flicking it onto the sheets in front of her as if he were swatting away an annoying fly.

A check to dismiss her? Alison fumed. Who did this jerk think he was insulting?

She had caught glimpses of Nicholas on TV over the years, always untouchable, like a noble who considered the world's concerns beneath him. His expression was a mask of unshakeable indifference, no matter the situation.

After Nicholas had left right after their hasty marriage, Alison had become the town's laughingstock.

That humiliation had burned deep, stoking a fire in her that she refused to let die. And now, as she looked at the man before her, a reckless idea took hold. She wanted to shatter his facade and watch him crumble in embarrassment.

With a defiant glint in her eye, she threw off the covers and reached for a robe. The silk fabric draped over her as she moved with purpose, snatching up the check and tearing it in half with a dramatic flourish. She let the pieces flutter into the trash like discarded confetti.

Nicholas' eyes darkened, a dangerous glint taking over his features.

His lips curled into a mocking smile, though his voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "What? Not enough for you?"

Alison's laughter bubbled up, sharp and mocking. "What happened last night was just a little fun between consenting adults. I don't need your hush money."

She paused, letting her smile turn wickedly seductive. "What's the matter, sir? Can't handle the heat?"

Nicholas' gaze turned icy, his jaw tightening as a flicker of anger danced behind his eyes.

He was known for his ruthlessness and his ability to crush anyone who dared to cross him.

The thought sent a shiver down Alison's spine, but a sense of newfound boldness surged within her. She stepped closer, poking his chest with her finger, her voice dripping with mockery. "Honestly, I was quite satisfied with your performance last night. How about we make it a regular thing? Name your price."