From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 20: Trapped in the Closet

Once the paparazzi caught a whiff of something, they'd stop at nothing to get more shots.

But as long as it didn't spread further—as long as no one else found out he was here secretly meeting Sophia—that was what mattered.

It was just one photo. Worst case, he'd pay off whoever took it.

Then an idea struck him.

A gleam flickered in his eyes. He forced himself to stay calm. "Don't panic. Listen—you need to hide. Now.

"I'll call Riley. Tell her to come have dinner with me. When she gets here, you come out and join us. If the paparazzi see the three of us having dinner together, they won't jump to conclusions."

Sophia's eyes darted around the room, frantic. "Where am I supposed to hide?"

Lucas scanned the space quickly. His gaze landed on the antique wardrobe in the corner—the one guests used for coats and bags. "In there."

Sophia's face went stiff.

The wardrobe?

She was a star. Millions adored her. And now she was supposed to crouch in a dark, cramped closet like some mistress caught in the act?

Every instinct rebelled.

But reason won.

If this got out—if her relationship with Lucas was exposed—her career would implode. Lucas' standing in the family would collapse. He might even lose his inheritance.

Years of patience. Years of sacrifice. All of it, gone.

She bit her lip. Nodded. "Fine. I'll do it."

Meanwhile, Riley was watching the chaos outside with barely concealed amusement.

Restaurant security had formed a line, trying to push back the swarm of reporters. But more kept coming—wave after wave, cameras raised, hungry for the story.

It was beautiful.

She turned to Sebastian, a playful smile curving her lips. "Let's make a bet. Who do you think cracks first? The paparazzi out there find a way in, or the lovebirds next door hold out until everyone gives up and goes home?"

Sebastian's gaze lingered on her profile for a beat longer than necessary. Then he said, calm and certain, "I think someone's about to call you. Asking you to come save the day."

Right on cue, her phone rang. Lucas.

Riley's smile turned wry. She answered, her voice shifting effortlessly into something warm and wifely.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Riley. Where are you right now?" Lucas' voice was smooth, tender—just like always. "Let's have dinner together tonight. I found this incredible place in the suburbs—been meaning to bring you here. The food's amazing."

A perfect alibi.

It sounded so fake now. So transparent.

But Riley played along. She let a note of regret creep into her voice. "Oh—I'm shopping over in Canyon Bay right now. It'll take me a while to get there."

"That's fine. I'll wait. Take your time. Drive safe."

His voice was still gentle, still full of the same indulgent concern he'd always shown her.

"Okay." Riley's tone was warm, agreeable. "It has been a while since we did dinner together."

She hung up and looked at Sebastian, genuinely curious. "How did you know he'd call? Don't tell me you've been in this situation before—speaking from experience?"

Sebastian's brow furrowed slightly. A flicker of distaste crossed his features. "No.

"Being sharp doesn't make me the type who screws around."

The way he defended himself—so serious, almost affronted—made Riley want to laugh.

She hadn't expected this side of him. Principled. Almost... pure?

The contrast was almost too much.

"Fair enough. I stand corrected." She was in a surprisingly good mood now. "Since we're waiting anyway—you up for a game?"

After all, Lucas thought she was coming from Canyon Bay. She had to make the timing match.

Sebastian didn't argue.

They played. Riley kept one eye on the clock.

An hour and a half later, she finally set her phone down and stood, smoothing her dress.

"Tonight was... not the most pleasant dinner experience." She meant it. "Let me make it up to you next time."

Sebastian rose too. "If we're counting next time, you owe me three meals now."

Riley blinked at him. "Mr. Torres. Are you trying to hustle me?"

She caught herself. This was only their second real meeting. They weren't close. And yet somehow, talking to him felt increasingly natural. Easy.