Chapter 1Bound To The Reckless Heir

The first night I moved into the Garrison estate, I woke up in a daze, my vision blurred by sleep, only to find myself staring directly into a pair of smoldering eyes. A man was looming over me, his chest bare, his expression lethal.

He grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron. "Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my bed?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. I could barely get the words out. "I... I’m your wife."

The man stared at me, dead silent. "..."

* * *

He let out a sharp, cold laugh, as if I’d just told the most ridiculous joke he’d ever heard. His dark eyes narrowed, scouring my face like he was dissecting a specimen. Even in the shadows of the room, the intensity of his gaze was suffocating.

He reached over and slammed his hand onto the light switch. The sudden overhead glare blinded me, and I winced, shielding my eyes.

When I finally managed to look up, he was smirking, but his eyes were fixed on my collarbone. It was then I realized the top buttons of my silk pajamas had slipped loose. I gasped, crossing my arms over my chest in a panicked reflex.

He let out a derisive snort. "Oh, give me a break. Don't play the innocent now. Tell me, what kind of hustle are you running to get inside this house?"

I looked at him properly for the first time. I knew who he was. This was Evelyn’s son—Nate Garrison.

He was exactly as the tabloids described him: rugged, reckless, and devastatingly handsome. Dark hair fell over a sharp brow; his nose was straight, his lips thin and cruel. His eyes—a deep, stormy hazel—were framed by long lashes, the corners slightly upturned in a way that felt both flirtatious and dangerous. He wore a half-unbuttoned white shirt, revealing the hard lines of his throat and collarbone. He radiated an aura of untamed, upper-class rebellion.

I frowned, my voice barely a whisper. "I’m serious. Ask your mother. Evelyn told me we were married."

A flash of genuine confusion crossed Nate’s face, followed by a dark, mocking grin. He released my wrist and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. He strode toward the door and yanked it open, his voice thundering through the hallway. "Arthur! Evelyn! Get out here and explain this right now!"

I scrambled to button my shirt, my fingers trembling. I stood by the edge of the bed, feeling small and out of place, barely daring to breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, Evelyn emerged from her room, wrapped in a silk robe and yawning. She looked at Nate with pure, unadulterated annoyance. "Nate, for God’s sake, it’s the middle of the night. Stop howling like a wounded animal."

Nate gestured wildly toward me, his voice tight with suppressed rage. "What is this? Explain. Now."

Evelyn didn't even blink. "I sent you the email, Nate. I told you this was happening."

Nate’s jaw tightened. "You weren't joking? You actually went through with it?"

Evelyn offered him a triumphant, cat-like smile. "When have I ever been a woman of idle threats?"

Nate ran a hand through his hair, his voice rising in desperation. "I thought it was a move to get me to come home! I didn't think you’d actually find a..." He stopped, glancing at me as if I were a piece of furniture he hadn't ordered.

Evelyn walked over and patted Nate’s cheek. "Nate, you made a deal. I have the recording to prove it. Riley is your responsibility now. And tomorrow morning, the two of you are going to City Hall to make it official."

She turned to go back to her room, pausing at the door with a playful, sharp glint in her eyes. "Oh, and Nate? Riley is staying in your room. If I find out you’ve been anything less than a gentleman, there will be consequences."

"Mom—" Nate started to protest, but the heavy thud of her bedroom door cut him off.

I stood there, a ghost in a stranger’s bedroom, watching the wreck of a man in front of me. Nate sighed, a long, ragged sound, and turned his gaze back to me. His eyes were cold again.

"You," he said flatly. "Go sleep in the guest room."

My lower lip trembled. "Evelyn said... she said I have to stay here. With you."

Nate let out a dry, incredulous laugh. "And you just do everything she says?"

I gripped the hem of my shirt and nodded, looking down at my toes. The shame felt like a physical weight in my chest.

"Fine," Nate snapped. "Stay here then. Sleep in the damn bed. I’m out."

He turned to leave, but Evelyn’s voice drifted through the walls, clear as a bell: "If you walk out that door, Nate, I’m calling the manager of the track. I’ll have your entire car collection under lock and key by breakfast."

Nate froze. His shoulders slumped, and he stood there for a long time, defeated by the one person he couldn't outrun.