Reene

Early the next day, I moved into Dale’s mansion as the servants helped with my luggage. The photographer arrived on time as well. Dale’s parents found it hard to believe that he had gotten married, so our fake marriage had to become real to a believable extent, which included living together and hanging a newlywed portrait on the wall.

“Can you move a bit closer to your husband, madam?“ Ivan, the photographer, asked. I obeyed, but he still didn’t look satisfied. “Mr. Valemont, your hands should be on your wife’s waist.“

Dale’s hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies were pressed tightly against each other.

Ivan...