Chapter 33

Kenya.

It was Thursday, the following day—barely 48 hours since I had officially become a Ruthford. I expected to feel different, as if a switch had been flipped, but I only felt a lingering sense of displacement.

I gazed through the window at the lush, rolling landscape of Irvington. As the SUV glided toward the Ruthford family estate, just a short drive from the frantic energy of Manhattan, the beauty of the Hudson Valley began to unfold. The village was nestled beneath a canopy of towering ancient trees, providing a welcoming distraction. The architecture was captivating, each home a testament to a bygone era of elegance.

I couldn't suppress a flicker of excitement as we neared our destination. I had tried to mask my intrigue from Levi earlier that morning, but his sharp eyes had caught the momentary softening of my expression. When I retreated back into my wall of indifference, he had simply let it be, though a knowing glint remained in his gaze.

Sitting beside him now, I pointedly focused on my phone rather than his striking presence. He was dressed casually in a blue T-shirt and black jeans, his blazer draped over the seat. Despite my resentment, I couldn't deny the magnetic pull he exerted. He looked rugged and composed, a stark contrast to the internal turmoil I was navigating.

"If you keep staring like that, you might miss the actual view," Levi’s teasing voice broke the silence.

I startled, heat flooding my cheeks. Caught in the act, I hastily returned my attention to my screen. A text arrived from Andrea, asking about the dress code for the evening’s reception. I huffed, irritated by the reminder. I had invited my colleagues—even Claudine and Dave—to the party. My mother and Amanda couldn't make it, which felt like a small mercy given the circumstances.

My phone hadn't stopped buzzing since the news broke. I had repeated the same script so many times I was sure I’d recited it in my sleep: "Yes, I am Mrs. Ruthford." "Yes, it was a whirlwind romance." "We look forward to seeing you at the reception."

The memory of last night still burned—the way he had sparked a fire within me only to walk away, leaving me in a state of restless frustration. It was a calculated move, one that left me feeling both indignant and inexplicably drawn to him.

A call from my mother interrupted my thoughts.

"Hi, Mom," I answered, trying to sound normal. But the sound of her sobbing on the other end immediately set off alarm bells. "Mom, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt a month ago, J'aime?" she cried. My heart sank. How did she find out? "I saw it on the news. They spoke about the fire, about how Levi took you to the hospital..."

I closed my eyes, guilt gnawing at me. "I should have told you, Mom. I just didn't want you to worry."

"Is Levi with you?" she asked.

I handed the phone to Levi. I couldn't hear the details of their conversation, but his tone was calm and reassuring. By the time he handed the phone back, she seemed soothed.

"What did you say to her?" I asked.

"I told her I would protect you from any further negative publicity," he said softly, putting aside his laptop to focus entirely on me. He reached out and took my hand. His warmth was a comfort I hated to admit I needed. "My PR team is handling everything. After tonight, the narrative will change."

His words were steady and persuasive. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe him. But as the car pulled into the Hudson Coast, I couldn't ignore the cost of this arrangement. He had rescued me, yes, but at what price?

My phone beeped again. Unknown number: "Hey beautiful! I hope you are smiling. Just wanted to make sure you keep that smile on, no matter what." 11:20 am.

A small, genuine smile touched my lips. Me: "I just did. Thank you."