Page 24 of Omega's Formula

When the knock comes, I’m barely awake, still in boxers and a t-shirt. He hands me two parcels. One is the scent blockers. The other is a box with my name on it.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper, I find a collection of silver frames containing photos of a wedding that was about as romantic as a business transaction.

The top one shows Erik and me standing in his penthouse, looking like we actually want to be there. We’re not touching, but we’re angled toward each other.

There’s one of us signing the marriage certificate, our heads bent close together. If you didn’t know better, you’d think we were sharing an intimate moment.

And there, at the bottom of the box in an ornate silver frame—the kiss.

I stare at it for a long time.

Sara must have been positioned perfectly, because the angle makes it look romantic. Tender, even. Erik’s hand cupping my face, tilting my chin up toward his. My eyes closed. Our lips pressed together like we mean it.

Looking at it, you’d never know I wanted to kill him.

Looking at it, it looks like the kiss had sent electricity crackling through every nerve in my body and made me spend every day since dreaming about it.

Okay. Maybe kill himandfuck him. What a messed up wedding that turned out to be.

There’s a note from Sara tucked into the packaging:Place these around the apartment. Bureau inspection could happen anytime.

I shove the photos in the hall closet without displaying a single one. I’ll deal with it later. Or never.

Work is a relief. The hospital café is busy, the way it always is. Doctors grabbing coffee before rounds. Nurses coming off night shifts, desperate for caffeine. Family members shuffling in with hollow eyes and rumpled clothes.

Here, I’m just the barista who remembers everyone’s orders and doesn’t have a complicated arrangement with a pharmaceutical CEO.

I’m steaming milk for a cortado when my phone buzzes. I ignore it. It buzzes again. And again.

Sara’s name. Three missed calls.

“Cover me for a sec?” I ask Hazel, and duck into the storeroom.

Sara picks up on the first ring. “Nolan. I heard you’re working.”

I don’t bother to ask her how she knows. It’s clear that Nilsson doesn’t trust me any more than I trust him.

“Hello to you too.”

“This is serious. The husband of one of the richest men in the city shouldn’t be working as a barista. It doesn’t fit the narrative. The Bureau will be suspicious.”

“Then tell them I like staying busy.” I lean against a shelf of coffee supplies. “I’m not giving up my independence for this fake marriage, Sara.”

A long pause. I can practically hear her calculating.

“Fine. But keep a low profile.”

“Wasn’t planning on wearing a sign.”

During my break, I slip away to see Ellie.

Ellie’s wing is quieter than the main hospital, this where the long term patients stay. There are fewer people coming in and out.

When I walk in, she’s sitting up in bed with her tablet.

“Nolan!” She sets the tablet aside, and her whole face lights up when she sees me. “They’ve got me scheduled for the first round starting Monday.”

“That’s great.” I pull up the chair I’ve sat in a thousand times before and sink into it. “Really great, Ellie.”