Forbidden Zone ✔

01

Ali's POV.

London, Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design.

The professor is standing at the podium, explaining the history of medieval clothing. On the screen, there's an image of Germanic breeches.

I glance at the time, start packing my things, and put my pencil case and textbook into my canvas bag.

Just as the professor turns around to write the term *Brache* on the blackboard, I crouch under the desk and sling my bag over my shoulder.

"You dare skip the dean's class?" the girl next to me gasps.

"I—" I make up an excuse, "I'm on my period, and my stomach hurts. Can I borrow your notes later? Thanks."

Then I bend over and sneak out through the back door of the classroom.

The moment I step out, I start sprinting, checking my watch as I run. 

My name is Ali Morris, I'm 20 years old, a sophomore studying fashion at Central Saint Martins, and I've been married for a year now.

But no one at school knows.

Today is my first wedding anniversary, and I need to get home for the dinner party. The dinner is at 7 p.m., and there's less than an hour left.

I reach the parking lot, jump into the car, and after running three red lights, I finally arrive at the old mansion at 6:50 p.m.

The mansion is already filled with guests.

I sneak up the servants' staircase, the one no one pays attention to, and run to my bedroom.

Then I put on a gown, fix my hair, and apply lipstick right away. After these, I walk out to meet my husband, Mateo Daniels.

He's in his own bedroom.

I knock on the door at the end of the hallway, push it open gently, and see Mateo inside.

"Sorry, I'm late—" I'm still out of breath, but I try to keep my breathing steady.

Mateo is fixing his bow tie in the mirror. "Oh yeah? I thought you weren't coming back."

Then he looks up and calls out toward the wardrobe, "This bow tie is too flashy. Get me a more subdued one."

"Sure," a woman's voice comes from inside the wardrobe.

She walks over in high heels, holding a bow tie up for Mateo to see. "How about this one?"

Mateo glances at it and nods. "Tie it for me."

The woman slips the tie around Mateo's neck and, in the process, greets me, "Good evening, Mrs. Daniels."

The way she says *Mrs. Daniels* feels especially sarcastic.

She is Luna, my husband's personal assistant. Before this, she was a lingerie model.

After tying the bow tie, Mateo seems satisfied. He gives Luna's behind a intimate squeeze and then turns to look at me.

"Since you're late, you won't be dancing the opening waltz with me," Mateo says.

I stare at him, unable to believe what I've just heard. "What do you mean?"

Mateo wraps his arm around Luna's waist, pulling her close. "I mean she'll be dancing with me."

I stand frozen at the doorway, watching as Mateo and his mistress walk past me without a care in the world.

And I can't do anything about it.

Our marriage was a business arrangement. To be more precise, the Morris family has been leeching off the Daniels family, so I have no choice but to let him do as he pleases.

Downstairs, I hear applause and cheers as the ballroom music begins to play.

I remain rooted to the spot, not sure how much time has passed when suddenly, a man's voice speaks right next to me.

"Seems like your relationship with my brother isn't going so well, dear sister in law."

I turn toward the voice and see a handsome man standing in front of me, with slightly wavy hair, deep-set eyes, a straight nose, and thin, sensual lips.

My mind goes blank for a moment.

I don't know this man.

"Sister-in-law?" he calls again.

This time, I realize he's talking to me.

"You're—Lincoln?" My brain slowly starts working again.

Lincoln Daniels, the younger son of the Daniels family.  Mateo is the heir and runs the family business, while Lincoln has been living in the U.S. for years.

He didn't even show up for our wedding.

"If I were you, I'd go to the ballroom right now and grab another man's hand to dance with. Or, better yet, find some other guy to sleep with, then show my brother your panties, covered in that guy's semen," Lincoln smiles.