Alice's POV
An hour later, Bryan pulled up in front of my apartment building in his black car. I was waiting outside with two suitcases, the ones I'd packed when I first moved here.
He got out and walked over to me, taking one of the suitcases without asking.
"Is this everything?" he asked.
"Yes. I don't have much."
He nodded and put the suitcase in the trunk. I put the other one in, and we got into the car. The drive was quiet at first, and we were both lost in our own thoughts.
"Where are we going?" I finally asked.
"My penthouse," he said, keeping his eyes on the road. "You'll stay there until the wedding. After that, we'll figure out a more permanent arrangement."
"I thought we were keeping separate places."
"That was before I knew Sterling & Cross was watching you," he said. "My building has better security. Twenty-four-hour guards, cameras everywhere, and restricted access. No one gets in without clearance."
"So, I'm a prisoner now?" I smirked.
He glanced at me. "You're protected. There's a difference."
"Is there?" I asked, but he didn't answer.
When we pulled into the underground parking garage of his building, I noticed the security immediately. There were guards at every entrance and cameras in every corner, and Bryan parked in a spot marked "Reserved—Penthouse," and we got out.
"Come on," he said, grabbing both suitcases before I could reach for one.
We took a private elevator that required a keycard to operate. It went straight to the top floor without stopping, and when the doors opened, we stepped directly into his penthouse.
My mouth fell open slightly.
The entire space was open with glass all around, like in movies. The living room was massive with expensive furniture, a fireplace, and a bar in the corner. The kitchen was all stainless steel and marble. Everything was clean, modern, and probably cost more than I'd make in ten years.
"This way," Bryan said, walking down a hallway. I followed him, feeling really left out in a house like that.
He stopped at a door and opened it.
"This is your room."
I stepped inside and tried not to gasp. The bedroom was bigger than my entire apartment had been. King-size bed, walk-in closet, private bathroom with a big tub and separate shower, also with windows with views of the city. Glasses are really what scream luxury.
Bryan set my suitcases down by the closet. "The bathroom's through there. Towels are in the cabinet. If you need anything else, let me know." He spoke.
"Where's your room?" I asked.
He pointed down the hall.
"Other side of the penthouse. You won't even know I'm here."
"Okay," I said softly.
He walked to the door but stopped before leaving. "Dinner is at seven. My father wants to meet you before the wedding."
My stomach dropped. "Tonight?"
"Yes," he said. "We don't have time to prepare you properly, so just be yourself. Well, a polite version of yourself. Don't mention the contract, and don't mention Sterling & Cross. As far as he knows, we met, we fell in love fast, and we're getting married."
"That's a lot of lying."
"Welcome to my family," he said flatly. Then he left, closing the door behind him.
I sat down on the bed and looked around the room. This was my life now, I guess. Living in a stranger's penthouse, about to marry him for protection, lying to everyone about why.
How did I get here?
I spent the next few hours unpacking my things, which didn't take long since I barely had anything. Then I took a long shower in the massive bathroom, trying to calm my nerves about dinner.
At six thirty, I started getting ready. I put on the only other nice dress I owned, a simple black one that went to my knees. I did my makeup carefully and tied my hair back.
When I came out of my room at ten to seven, Bryan was already in the living room wearing a suit. He looked up when he heard me, and his eyes moved over me quickly.
We stood there awkwardly for a moment before Bryan checked his watch.
"We should go. My father hates it when people are late."
The drive to his father's house took thirty minutes, and when we pulled up to the Hale mansion, I felt my anxiety spike.
"Relax," Bryan said, noticing my expression. "He's not going to eat you."
"Easy for you to say," I muttered.
"He's your father."
"Exactly," Bryan said as he parked the car. "Which means I know how to handle him. So, just follow my lead."
We got out and walked to the front door. Bryan didn't knock; he just walked in, and I followed suit.
Inside, a woman in her sixties greeted us.
"Mr. Bryan, your father is waiting in the dining room." The woman said.
"Thank you, Maria," Bryan said. Then he turned to me and took my hand.
"Ready?" He asked again.
"No," I admitted.
"Good answer," he said. Then he led me down a long hallway to a formal dining room.
Bryan's father was already seated at the head of a long table. He was older, maybe in his sixties, with gray hair and sharp eyes that reminded me of Bryan's. He stood when we entered.
"Bryan," he said; the man really had a deep voice that sent shivers down my spine.
"You're on time; that's a first."
"Father," Bryan said stiffly. "This is Alice Reynolds. Alice, this is my father, Richard Hale."
Richard walked over to me and extended his hand. I shook it, trying not to show how nervous I was.
"So, you're the woman who finally got my son to settle down," Richard said, studying me closely.
"I have to admit, I'm surprised. Bryan has never brought a woman home before."
"I'm honored to meet you, Mr. Hale."
"Sit," Richard said, gesturing to the table. "Let's eat and talk." I was really nervous and prayed that the ground would open and swallow me.