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Chapter 2 of 79

THE WIFE WHO CHOSE HIS FATHER.

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POV: Vivian

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Seven years ago, Cole had smiled at me across a university cafeteria.

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"You're sitting in my seat."

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I looked at the empty chair below me.

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"Your name isn't written on it."

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His lips curled into a grin.

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"No, but everyone can see that it's mine."

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I rolled my eyes.

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"Then everyone can see what I steal."

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He laughed.

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That was how we met.

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Not at some business meeting.

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Not at one of his father's many expensive parties.

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Not in some mansion guarded to the ends of the earth.

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We met at college.

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Cole was just a normal man back then.

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Didn't act the part of the heir to one of New York's most powerful families.

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He wore old sneakers.

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Complained about the food in the cafeteria.

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Forgets his textbooks.

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Smiled at random strangers.

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Especially me.

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I didn't know what to think of him at first.

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He was too confident.

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Too persistent.

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Too into me.

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"You always seem to be planning something," Cole told me one afternoon.

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"I'm not."

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"You are."

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"Perhaps I am planning on stealing your seat once more."

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He chuckled.

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And then sat next to me.

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That became our thing.

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Coffee before class together.

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Lunches.

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Endless chats after the lectures.

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Late-night messages.

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He made me feel noticed.

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And that was dangerous.

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Because I had actually been noticing his surname long before he had taken interest in mine.

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Vale.

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Everyone in New York knew the name.

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And I knew what it signified.

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Money.

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Power.

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Influence.

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Opportunity.

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I told myself I wasn't bothered.

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But I did.

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I hated myself for it.

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And then it dawned on me there was nothing wrong with wanting a better life.

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Our family hadn't exactly had it easy.

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The bills seemed to come faster than my pockets could keep up, and my mother was always working.

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My younger sister Mia always needed me.

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I needed security.

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And a better future where an unexpected bill would not ruin us.

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And that was where Cole came into play.

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Cole, who helped me when it came to the fees at the college.

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Cole, who brought me coffee before my exams.

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Cole, who waited outside the library for me when I studied late into the night.

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Cole who never questioned it.

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One evening he walked me home.

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The streets were quiet when we set off.

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"You know, you shouldn't pretend you're not happy to see me."

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I smiled at him, but he wasn't fooled.

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"Who says I'm pretending?"

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"I do."

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"You're very confident.

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He laughed.

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"You have reasons to be."

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I chuckled.

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Then he turned serious.

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"Vivian?

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Yes?"I turned to look at him, my heart thudding loudly in my chest as he stopped walking.

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The expression on his face had changed.

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There was no humour in his eyes.

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"I think I'm in love with you."

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My heart skipped a beat.

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It was the moment I should have confessed it all.

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Told him why I'd been watching his surname.

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Tell him what I wanted from his family.

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Tell him the truth about why I married him in the first place.

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Instead, I smiled.

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"I think I'm in love with you, too."

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That was the lie I regretted most.

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Until the day I walked into the church on our wedding day.

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Because the truth was, I hadn't married Cole for Cole.

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I married him for his father's money, and his mother's connections, and the life he could offer.

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The worst part was the fact that somewhere in all of it, I think I may have fallen in love with him too.

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