Chapter 217
“She’s the boss,” Gaston said, handing over his Black Card. “I’m just the trophy husband.”
The vendor laughed. A woman browsing nearby let out a wistful sigh. “I wish I had a trophy husband like that.”
Jocelyn hadn’t seen the embossed text yet. Gaston steered her away from the camera’s line of sight without another word.
They ducked into a quiet alleyway a block down to swap the cases onto their phones.
“Okay, let me see,” Jocelyn said.
𝘞e 𝗎p𝗱𝘢𝘁𝗲 𝘦𝗏е𝗿y 𝗐𝗲е𝗸 𝗼n 𝗀𝗮𝗹nо𝘷е𝘭𝗌.c𝗈𝘮
She pulled out the red case and flipped it over.
Embossed in elegant gold letters were two words:
The Boss.
She blinked. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
“The Boss? Really?” Jocelyn laughed, snapping the case onto her phone.
“It fits,” Gaston smiled, leaning against the brick wall. “You run the show. You run the hotel. You run me.”
“Let me see yours,” she demanded.
He held up his phone. The black leather case caught the light, its silver script glinting.
At Her Service.
Jocelyn burst out laughing. “That is… ridiculous. People will think it’s kinky.”
“Maybe it is,” he winked, his eyes darkening slightly.
“It’s perfect for the press,” she concluded, her practicality settling over the moment like a light rain. “It sells the narrative.”
They drove back to the penthouse in comfortable silence.
When the elevator doors opened into the foyer, chaos greeted them.
Suitcases were everywhere. Stacks of Louis Vuitton trunks blocked the hallway.
“What is this?” Jocelyn asked, stepping over a duffel bag.
Aaden burst out of the living room, sliding across the marble floor in his socks.
“I live here now!” he cheered.
Justin followed, looking marginally apologetic. “Just for a few weeks. Until the campaign trail calms down. My place is being watched by reporters. It isn’t safe for Aaden. And I need to be mobile.”
“Of course,” Jocelyn said immediately. “He can stay as long as he wants.”
“Yay! I get the room next to yours!” Aaden shouted, already running back to the living room.
Gaston looked at Justin and raised an eyebrow.
You just want to be free to stalk Carmen, his expression said.
Justin gave a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. Exactly.
Later that night, Jocelyn was in her room unpacking her bag when her phone rang. It was Bella.
“Jocelyn! Are you sitting down?” Bella shrieked.
“I’m lying down. What?” Jocelyn asked, tucking a pillow behind her head.
“Kieran is spiraling,” Bella said, her voice rich with barely contained glee. “He saw the press conference, obviously. He knows you’re going through with the wedding to Gaston.”
“So? That’s not news,” Jocelyn said, confused.
“No, but he’s completely lost his mind over it,” Bella clarified, dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s convinced himself it’s a purely fake, transactional arrangement. He’s been telling anyone who will listen that Gaston is gay and using you as a cover. He genuinely believes he can still swoop in and save you from the big, bad billionaire.”
“Wait — he’s that delusional?” Jocelyn sat up. “He can’t accept that Gaston Collins would actually choose to marry me?”