Chapter 3A Seven-Year Illusion

But I didn’t.

My hand was on the knob, but I pulled it back. I was a coward. I was afraid that if I confronted her, if I blew everything up, she would just let it all burn.

And I would be left with nothing.

She was an idol, worshipped by millions.

And me? I was just her nameless assistant, her ghost of a manager. What right did I have to question her?

Ding!

The buzz of a text message jolted me from a half-sleep. I glanced down. It was just a notification from my phone carrier about an overdue bill.

Sprawled on the dusty couch of the empty house, my eyes were dry and sore. There were no tears left to cry.

I remembered I’d left some important documents and personal items back at her place.

The next morning, I went back.

The moment I walked in, I was hit by the smell of freshly cooked food.

“You’re back,” Isla said with a soft smile, as if nothing had happened. “Go wash your hands. We were just waiting for you.”

I looked at the spread of hot dishes on the table, and for a moment, my resolve wavered. I was about to sit down, to try and have a calm, rational conversation about us ending things. But then my eyes caught a figure slouched on the corner of the sofa.

Aidan.

His shirt was unbuttoned, and a faint, red mark was visible on his neck. A hickey.

He saw me and didn't even flinch. He just stood up slowly, a look of utter disdain on his face, and deliberately bumped my shoulder as he passed.

He tossed a set of car keys at me.

“The building management called. Your car’s blocking someone. You’re here now, so go move it.”

He clearly had no idea who I was to her. He really thought I was just some servant he could order around.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

I looked at Isla, my face a blank mask. She said nothing. She just gave me a look, a silent command in her eyes, telling me to do as Aidan said.

After a long moment, I let the keys drop to the floor.

“Get your own gopher to run your errands,” I said to Aidan, my voice cold. “I have no obligation to serve you.”

The atmosphere in the room instantly turned to ice.

Aidan’s face darkened. He clearly didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Isla, so he just let out a long, put-upon sigh. “Oh, right. I forgot you’re Isla’s assistant. My bad, I was out of line. Sorry about that.”

Before I could respond, Isla’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

“Aidan is my fiancé. His business is my business. What’s your problem?”