The Billionaire's Rental Wife Is A Hot Shot

Zevian’s lips brushed softly against Evelyn’s, a sweet, lingering kiss that sent a rush of warmth through her. She could feel her heart flutter as his hand pressed against hers firmly, pinning it to the wall. Her mind barely registered the sound of footsteps drawing closer, her focus solely on the man who had taken her breath away.

Just as Evelyn began to lose herself in the moment, the curtain was yanked open, and a shocked gasp filled the small space.

"Oh my god!" Annabelle’s voice echoed through the room, her eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. Zevian’s broad back shielded Evelyn from view, ensuring that no one but him could see the blush creeping up her neck.

The boutique manager swiftly intervened before Annabelle could process what she had just witnessed, pulling her away and closing the curtain with an exasperated huff. "Miss Wright, this is a men’s changing room. Please have some decency and refrain from barging in like that," he scolded, his stern glare making Annabelle’s face flush with embarrassment.

Vincent, equally irritated by her actions, grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the boutique, his expression one of pure annoyance. "Honestly, Anna, you need to stop this," he muttered under his breath as they left.

Back in the dressing room, Zevian placed a light peck on Evelyn’s lips before finally withdrawing. He smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I made up for missing our morning tradition," he teased, his voice low and warm.

Evelyn’s eyelashes fluttered, her cheeks still flushed from the kiss. She quickly looked away, unable to meet his gaze. When Kiana had demanded for them to sleep together every night, she agreed on one condition that Zevian would not be part of their morning kiss routine, quite aware that this devil would not miss the chance to tease her every day. But here he was, finding a perfect opportunity to repay for teasing him yesterday.

"You’re impossible," Evelyn murmured, her voice trembling slightly as she turned and hurried out of the room, her expression flustered.

Zevian chuckled softly to himself, watching her retreat with a fond smile. He took a moment to compose himself before trying on the shirt Evelyn had selected for him. A few minutes later, he stepped out of the changing room, the shirt fitting him perfectly.

Evelyn, who had been waiting nervously outside, brightened as soon as she saw him. A bright smile lit up her face as she marveled at how the shirt accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame. Even the manager couldn’t help but praise Zevian’s appearance, his professional tone mixed with genuine admiration. "Mr. Reign, you look absolutely stunning in that shirt. It suits you perfectly," he said, giving a nod of approval.

Zevian glanced at Evelyn, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the satisfaction in her eyes. "It’s all thanks to my wife’s excellent taste," he replied, his gaze never leaving hers.

They spent a few more minutes in the boutique, with Evelyn selecting a few more shirts that caught her eye. Zevian patiently tried on each one, and by the end of their shopping trip, they had accumulated a small collection of shirts that Evelyn insisted on buying for him. Once they had paid for their purchases, they headed outside, where John was waiting with the car.

As they got in, Evelyn turned to Zevian, her expression softening. "Can you drop me off at the Vanessa Hotel? We’ve arranged a lunch there with Mr. Igor," she requested.

Zevian nodded, giving John a brief instruction. "Drive to the Vanessa Hotel."

As they drove through the bustling city streets, Evelyn couldn’t help but notice that Zevian didn’t seem to be in any hurry to drop her off. When they finally arrived at the hotel, he stepped out of the car alongside her, confusing her.

"Why are you following me?" Evelyn asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Zevian gave her a sly smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Well, as the new investor of AWE Interiors, don’t you think I should greet your major client too?" he replied, his tone light yet firm.

Evelyn’s eyes widened in surprise, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. Shaking her head, she led him into the hotel, making her way to the private room where they had arranged the lunch. As they entered, Avery, who had been anxiously waiting, brightened at the sight of Evelyn. But her smile quickly faded when she saw Zevian beside her.

"Why are you here?" Avery asked, her voice laced with annoyance as she shot a pointed look at her cousin.

Before Zevian could answer, Avery’s assistant came rushing in, her voice breathless with excitement. "Mr. Igor is here!" she announced, and everyone quickly got to their feet to welcome their prestigious guest.

Ronan Igor entered the room with an air of quiet authority, his casual shirt and pants doing little to hide the underlying strength and power that came with his status. He was a man used to getting what he wanted, his warm smile fixed on everyone in the room—everyone except Zevian.

As Ranon’s eyes landed on Evelyn, his smile softened, but the moment he noticed Zevian standing beside her, it vanished. His expression grew cold, clearly displeased by Zevian’s presence.

"I thought this was a company lunch, Avery," Ranon remarked, his tone clipped as he addressed her.

Avery awkwardly scratched her brow, sensing the tension building in the room. "It is, but... Zevian is technically part of our company now since he’s the second biggest investor," she explained, her voice wavering slightly.

Ranon scowled, his displeasure evident. Zevian, unfazed, stepped forward and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Igor," he said, his tone polite but firm.

Ranon hesitated for a moment before gripping Zevian’s hand, both men refusing to let go as they sized each other up. The air between them crackled with unspoken challenges, and Avery could feel her nerves fraying as the handshake dragged on.

Evelyn, sensing the rising tension, quickly stepped forward and gently placed her hand on Ranon’s arm. "Please, this way, Mr. Igor," she said, trying to steer him away from the brewing confrontation.

Ranon’s stern expression softened as he turned to Evelyn, his gaze lingering on her. "How many times should I tell you to drop the formalities, Evelyn? Just address me as Ronan," he insisted with a charming smile.

Evelyn’s smile wavered slightly, but before she could respond, Zevian’s voice cut through the tension. "This way, Ronan," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he gestured towards the table.

Avery pressed her lips together, her eyes darting between the two men. She had a sinking feeling that this lunch was going to be anything but peaceful.

The meal began with a series of small talk, but it quickly devolved into a subtle battle between Ranon and Zevian for Evelyn’s attention. Every time Ranon tried to pour Evelyn a drink, Zevian would beat him to it. When Ranon offered to pass her a dish, Zevian would intercept, serving her instead. Evelyn found herself caught in the middle, her attempts to keep the peace becoming increasingly futile as the two men engaged in a silent war.

Avery, watching the exchanges, couldn’t help but feel both exasperated and amused. She caught Evelyn’s eye, and they shared a look that said it all—this lunch was a disaster waiting to happen.

Luckily, the meal ended, and as they walked out of the private room, the atmosphere was still thick with unspoken competition. Just as they reached the hotel entrance, they were greeted by an unexpected sight—Annabelle, waiting with a bright smile on her face.

"Oh, what a coincidence, Evy!" Annabelle exclaimed, quickly hugging Evelyn before she could react. Evelyn stiffened, aware that she was surrounded by people who knew better than to see through Annabelle’s act.

"I’ve been trying to contact you, but your number is always busy," Annabelle continued, her voice laced with false sweetness.

Avery, sensing trouble, tried to intervene. "We’re a bit busy right now, Anna," she said, attempting to steer the conversation away.

But before she could succeed, Ronan, who had been watching the exchange with interest, interrupted. "Who is she?" he asked, his curiosity piqued as he studied Annabelle’s familiar face.

Annabelle’s eyes lit up with recognition, and she quickly introduced herself with a proud smile. "I’m Evelyn’s sister, the real daughter of William Wright," she declared, her tone filled with self-importance.

Ranon frowned, his mind working to piece together the fragments of information he had heard about the Wright family. "William Wright?" he echoed, his voice laced with suspicion.

Annabelle’s expression paled as the man didn’t recognize her supposed father, while Avery, unable to hold it in any longer, burst into laughter at the awkward tension.

"My father," Evelyn clarified, her voice firm as she stepped forward, not wanting her secret identity to be exposed in such an embarrassing way. "What do you want, Annabelle?"

Annabelle’s expression shifted, her eager smile returning as she clasped her hands together. "I just wanted to spend some time with you and Vincent, like we used to in the past," she said, her tone pleading.

Evelyn’s face hardened, her voice cold as she replied, "No. I’m not interested."

Annabelle’s face fell, and she looked downcast for a moment before lifting her gaze to Zevian. "Don’t tell me it’s because you still have feelings for him?" she asked, her eyes shining with feigned sadness.

Both Zevian and Ronan’s expressions darkened at her words. Ronan’s gaze fell on Zevian, his mind racing. So he had one more rival to crush down?