Chapter 2: The Woman Behind the Smile

Ever since Hollis added me to that private group chat, it had been mostly silent.

The members were his relatives, regional bosses, and business associates he’d grown up with. To my face, they called me the heir’s wife-to-be, but in the group, they mostly ignored me.

Now, it had exploded with activity.

[Gianna: Just borrowing a wedding for the day.]

A dozen photos followed.

Every one of them had been taken inside the wedding car.

Gianna was leaning against Hollis, taking all kinds of intimate selfies.

In some, they were cheek to cheek. In others, she was straightening his tie.

My eyes snagged on the last one.

In the picture, Hollis had rested his head in Gianna’s palm, his smile impossibly soft.

When we took our engagement photos, I’d shown him a reference shot with that exact pose.

He’d said it looked too childish, that it wasn’t right for us.

Messages started flying.

[You two always looked like the real couple. I've been saying since we were kids that Gianna was the one who was supposed to end up beside the heir.]

That was from one of Hollis’s childhood friends, a regional head for the family.

He’d once told me how lucky Hollis was to have me, that I was the only reason he’d pulled out of the slump he’d fallen into after Gianna left for Europe. He’d said the two of us were a perfect match.

Then another message popped up.

[If I'd known you two were the ones getting married today, I never would have skipped town. I can't stand that outsider who slid in after Gianna left for Europe. Is it too late to catch a flight back?]

That was Hollis’s cousin.

Once, Hollis had left a document stamped with the family seal at home—a document that had to be delivered to an ally that same night—and asked me to bring it to him.

There was a storm that day. I got into an accident on the highway and injured my leg, but I still got the file to him. Any later, and the other family would have accused Hollis of breaking his word.

At the time, he’d almost cried. He’d told me I saved him.

More messages followed: Hollis’s older cousin, his old classmates, and several people who worked for the family. Hollis had introduced me to every one of them.

To my face, they were all polite.

Behind my back, they had other names for me.

“That ordinary girl from outside the life.”

“The one clinging to the heir.”

“The placeholder.”

Hollis sent a message, too.

[Enough about her. The Rossis are all here tonight. Let's keep the chat positive for Gianna's sake.]

I stared at the screen, my hand shaking as I typed.

[Are you people sick?]

[You’re disgusting.]

After the messages went through, the group fell silent for two seconds.

Then someone wrote:

[Shit. Wrong group.]

The next second, my phone was ringing. Hollis.

He called instantly—as if terrified I’d type one more word.

I answered.

He didn’t apologize. He didn’t explain.

Just one icy word.

“Apologize.”

I almost laughed.

“Apologize? For what, exactly? For your friends insulting me? Or for you adding me to your ‘official’ group chat while you all have another one where you trash me?”

The line went quiet for a few seconds.

I heard Hollis sigh, a sound heavy with restraint.

“Willa, not everyone is going to like you. You can't expect universal acceptance.”

It was the first time he’d said my name all day.

“Everyone in that group grew up with me and Gianna. Our families are allied. You're a new element. It's natural for some of them to be unsettled.”

“Gianna adding you to that group was her extending an olive branch, telling them she accepts you.”

I lifted my head, trying to keep the tears from falling.

“So?”

Hollis paused, then lowered his voice.

“Just post in the group that you don’t mind the jokes.”

“Gianna is hysterical right now. She keeps blaming herself, saying she’s embarrassed both families by adding you to the group.”

A chill spread through my chest.

So, if Gianna cried, I was expected to comfort the very people who had just humiliated me.

Her tears mattered because they could affect the alliance.

And I was just the woman he'd chosen for himself.

Hollis was still talking, but the words blurred into meaningless noise.

I gripped my phone, my voice hoarse.

“Hollis, let’s break up.”

“The wedding is off. I’m not signing the marriage papers.”

He didn’t respond right away.

I heard someone on his end muffle the phone, the rustle of tissues being pulled from a box, and Gianna’s soft crying.

Then came Hollis’s patient, soothing voice.

“It’s okay. Don’t cry. Willa said she doesn’t blame you.”

“She’s just overreacting.”