After the waiter cleared their plates, Lucien signaled for the check while Lior finished her coffee. The hotel's private dining room felt smaller now that they'd established the framework of their cover story, but something had shifted between them during their meal.
"We will go shopping," Lucien said.
"Shopping for what?"
"Appropriate clothing for Saturday night. And anything else you might need."
"I can dress myself."
"Not for this." Lucien's tone carried the finality of someone accustomed to making decisions for other people.
The valet brought Lucien's car around as they left the hotel. It was the same sleek sedan that had collected Lior from the coffee shop that first night.
"Where are we going?" Lior asked as they settled into the leather seats.
Lior found herself stealing glances at Lucien's profile as he worked on his phone, noting the sharp line of his jaw and the way his dark hair fell across his forehead when he looked down.
The first boutique was an elegant space that felt more like an art gallery than a clothing store. A woman named Isabella greeted them personally, clearly expecting their arrival.
"Mr. Pembroke, what a pleasure. And this must be Mrs Pembroke."
The ease with which she used the title suggested Marcus had been thorough in his preparations. Lior wondered what story they'd been told about this shopping expedition.
"We need evening wear for a business dinner," Lucien explained. "Something elegant but not flashy. Conservative but modern."
Isabella nodded with the understanding of someone who regularly dressed wives for important social occasions. "I have several pieces that would be perfect."
The next two hours passed in a blur of silk and cashmere, Italian leather and Swiss timepieces. Lior tried on dress after dress while Lucien provided commentary with the detached precision of an art critic. Too formal, too casual, too obvious, not quite right.
When she emerged from the dressing room in a midnight blue dress that fit like it had been made specifically for her, Lucien's expression shifted almost imperceptibly.
"That one," he said.
The dress was followed by shoes, jewelry and a handbag that Isabella assured them was both classic and contemporary.
"Will there be anything else?" Isabella asked as her assistants carefully packed everything in tissue paper and elegant boxes.
"A few casual pieces." Lucien said.
More shopping followed. Jeans that cost three hundred dollars, sweaters that felt like clouds, a winter coat that made Lior's four-year-old jacket look like it belonged in a donation bin.
"This is too much," Lior said as they returned to the car with enough shopping bags to fill a small apartment.
"I should go see Maya," she said as they entered the car.
The car stopped outside Campus Grind, the coffee shop where Lior and Maya met regularly to study and decompress from the pressures of medical school. Through the window, Lior could see Maya at their usual corner table, textbooks spread around her like fortress walls.
The confidence she'd felt during their shopping expedition began to fade as Lior walked into the familiar coffee shop. The contrast between her new expensive accessories and the worn furniture felt jarring.
Maya looked up when she approached, her expression shifting from relief to suspicion in the space of a heartbeat.
"Finally. Where have you been?"
"I had some things to handle."
"What kind of things?" Maya's voice carried the particular edge that meant she'd reached the end of her patience. "Because I've been calling you for three days, and all I get are vague text messages about being busy."
Lior sat down across from her, noting how Maya's eyes immediately went to the leather handbag.
"New bag?" Maya asked.
"A gift."
"From who? Because we have the same friends, and none of them can afford gifts like that."
Maya leaned forward, studying Lior's face with the intensity she usually reserved for pathology slides. "You look different. Not just tired-different. Actually different."
"Different how?"
The questions were coming too fast, too precisely targeted. Maya had clearly been thinking about this conversation, preparing her investigation like she was diagnosing a complex medical case.
"Maya, I've been handling some personal stuff. Can you just trust me?"
"Personal stuff like what? And don't say it's about your mom because I called the hospital yesterday. She's stable, treatment's going well, no major changes."
"You called the hospital?"
"I was worried about you. When my best friend starts acting strange and disappearing without explanation, I investigate." Maya pulled out her phone and scrolled through what looked like notes. "I also called the coffee shop. Jake said you've been calling in sick all week. But you told me you were picking up extra shifts."
Lior felt the walls closing in. Maya had done her homework, systematically eliminating every lie and evasion.
"Look, I haven't been feeling well, and I've had some opportunities come up..."
"What kind of opportunities?"
"Work opportunities. Better paying than making lattes."
"What kind of work?"
"Administrative stuff. For a company."
Maya's expression grew more skeptical. "Since when do you do administrative work? You're in medical school."
"Since I need money and administrative work pays better than service jobs."
"What company?"
"Does it matter?"
"It matters when my roommate disappears for three days and comes back carrying designer accessories."
Maya was relentless, and Lior realized she was rapidly running out of believable explanations.
"If I tell you something, you have to promise not to freak out."
"I'm already freaking out."
"Promise you won't tell anyone."
"Depends what it is."
"Maya."
"Fine. I promise. But if you're in some kind of trouble..."
"I'm not in trouble." Lior took a deep breath. "I got married."
The silence that followed was absolute. Maya just stared at her, mouth slightly open, like she was processing information in a foreign language.
"You got what?"
"Married. Three days ago."
Maya blinked several times, as if trying to reset her vision. "To who?"
"Lucien Pembroke."
Maya's face went completely blank. She leaned back in her chair, studying Lior's expression for any sign that this was an elaborate joke.
Maya started laughing, but it sounded slightly hysterical.
Other students were starting to notice their conversation. Maya lowered her voice but maintained her intensity.
"But how? When did you even meet him? You work at a coffee shop and study eighteen hours a day."
Before Maya could ask more questions, Lior's phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw Lucien's name.
As they walked out of the coffee shop together, Maya continued her interrogation about practical matters. Would Lior continue with medical school? What about her job at the coffee shop? Where was she living now?
"I'm still committed to becoming a doctor," Lior said as they walked across campus toward the medical building. "That hasn't changed."
"And the coffee shop?"
"I'll probably need to quit. The schedule's becoming impossible to manage."
"Jake's not going to be happy. You're one of his best workers."
They passed a group of their classmates studying on the lawn. David waved them over.
"Lior! Where have you been? You missed Dr. Patterson's lecture on Tuesday. She was asking about you."
"I've been dealing with some family stuff," Lior said, conscious of how easily the lie came now.
"Is your mom okay?" asked David, he was the classmate who'd been trying to ask Lior out for months.
"She's doing better. Thank you for asking."
David's eyes lingered on her new handbag and the expensive cut of her jeans. "Nice bag. Early graduation present?"
"Something like that."
Maya rescued her from further questions by announcing they needed to get to the library, but Lior could feel her classmates' curious gazes following them as they walked away.
"They're going to notice the changes," Maya said quietly.
"What changes?"
"All of them. The clothes, the bag, the way you carry yourself. You look like someone who doesn't have to worry about money anymore."
"Is that obvious?"
"To people who know you? Yes."
They spent an hour at the library, ostensibly studying but actually continuing their conversation in whispers. Maya wanted to know everything - how the relationship had developed, what it was like being married to someone so wealthy, whether Lior was overwhelmed by the sudden change in her circumstances.
"I should visit my mom," Lior said as they packed up their books.
The drive to St. Mary's Hospital gave them more time to talk. Maya's questions had evolved from suspicion to genuine concern about how Lior was handling such a dramatic life change.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Maya asked as they walked through the hospital's familiar corridors.
They found Elena Atheria sitting up in bed, looking better than she had in weeks. The new treatment protocols were clearly working, bringing color back to her cheeks and brightness to her eyes.
"Maya!" Elena smiled with genuine pleasure. "What a nice surprise. How are your clinical rotations going?"
"Exhausting but educational," Maya replied, settling into the chair beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Much better. The doctors say the surgery can be scheduled for next week. Apparently, some kind of payment came through yesterday."
Elena's voice carried wonder and confusion in equal measure. Eighty thousand dollars didn't just appear in normal people's lives.
"That's wonderful news, Mrs. Atheria," Maya said, glancing at Lior.
"It is. But I keep thinking about this anonymous donor. It doesn't feel right to accept such generosity without being able to thank them properly."
"Maybe they don't want thanks," Lior said. "Maybe helping people is enough for them."
"Perhaps." Elena reached for her daughter's hand. "You both look tired. Are you taking care of yourselves? Medical school is demanding enough without adding extra stress."
"I should head back to campus," Maya said eventually. "I have a study group tonight."
"I'll walk you out," Lior said.
In the hospital corridor, Maya stopped and turned to face her friend.
"Your mom doesn't know, does she?"
"About the marriage? No."
"You're going to have to tell her eventually."
"I know. But not while she's dealing with surgery and recovery."
Maya hugged her goodbye, whispering, "Call me tomorrow."
After Maya walked toward the bus stop, Lior took a taxi back to the penthouse. The familiar luxury of marble and crystal welcomed her, but the apartment felt empty in a way she hadn't expected.
She headed straight for the master bathroom, desperate to wash away the stress of managing Maya's questions and her mother's concerns. The day had been emotionally draining, and she needed the comfort of hot water and solitude.
The bathroom was a masterpiece of marble and glass, with a rainfall shower that felt like a personal waterfall. Lior turned the water to its hottest setting and let steam fill the space. She'd grabbed fresh clothes from her closet but realized as she undressed that she'd forgotten to bring them into the bathroom.
The towel hanging nearby would have to do for the moment.
Twenty minutes later, she felt more human. The hot water had worked its magic, melting away tension she hadn't realized she'd been carrying. But as she reached for the towel, her elbow knocked it into the filled bathtub with a soft splash.
"Damn it," she muttered, watching the expensive terry cloth sink into the water.
There were more towels in the linen closet in her bedroom, just a few steps away. The apartment was empty anyway. She could make the quick dash naked without anyone seeing.
Across the city, Lucien had finished his last meeting of the day earlier than expected. He wanted to talk to Lior.
He'd tried calling twice, but both calls had gone straight to voicemail.
The penthouse lobby was quiet as he entered. The elevator whisked him silently to the fifteenth floor.
The apartment was warm and inviting when he entered, lights on throughout the main living areas. Classical music played softly from the sound system - something Lior must have turned on when she'd returned.
"Lior?" he called out, loosening his tie as he walked toward the kitchen.
No response.
He tried again, louder this time. "Lior, are you here?"
Still nothing.
Her purse sat on the kitchen counter next to the leather handbag they'd purchased that afternoon. She was definitely home. Maybe she was napping, or had headphones on while studying.
Lucien climbed the stairs to the bedroom level, his footsteps muffled by expensive carpeting.
He knocked on the bedroom door out of courtesy, even though it was technically his apartment.
"Lior? I need to discuss something with you."
No answer. The shower was probably too loud for her to hear him.
He waited a few more seconds, then turned the handle. They were married, after all, even if it was just a business arrangement. And they needed to talk.
Lucien pushed open the door and stepped into the bedroom just as Lior emerged from the bathroom.
She was completely naked, water still glistening on her skin, dark hair damp and tousled. She moved with unconscious grace toward the walk-in closet, apparently assuming she was alone.
Lucien froze in the doorway, his brain struggling to process what he was seeing. This was his temporary wife, the woman he'd married for business purposes, but the clinical distance he'd maintained suddenly evaporated.
Lior bent to retrieve something from the floor of the closet - a dropped piece of clothing, maybe - and Lucien's mouth went dry. Every curve and line of her body was exposed, perfect and unguarded. The confident woman who'd challenged him at the hotel had been replaced by someone natural and vulnerable.
She was beautiful. Not just attractive in the way he'd noted clinically before, but genuinely, breathtakingly beautiful.
For a moment that stretched like eternity, Lucien simply stared. Professional detachment warred with purely male appreciation, and the professional side was losing badly.
Then Lior straightened and turned,intending to grab a robe from the bathroom hook.
Their eyes met across the bedroom.
Lior's gasp echoed in the sudden silence. Her hands flew up to cover herself, but it was too late.