The Fallen Heiress: Contract Marriage with the CEO Who Hates Me
Chapter 37: The Last Lie

Chapter 37: The Last Lie

Jane’s stomach let out a low, insistent growl, drawing her attention to the side. The rich aroma of fresh breakfast filled the air, teasing her senses and making her mouth water.

The meal looked delicious—fluffy eggs, waffles with strawberries, crisp toast, and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice—but no matter how empty her stomach was, she couldn’t seem to summon the will to pick up a fork and take a bite.

With an irritated sigh, she groaned softly and grabbed her phone from the pillow beside her. As her gaze drifted over the locked screen, her thoughts circled back to something she had been debating for hours—whether or not to call Felicity.

I’ve spent the entire night running through every possible scenario... but none of them end well.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, hesitating. If Charles’ family already knew, then the chances were high that the news had spread. Would Felicity even pick up? Or would she, too, turn her back on me?

The thought sent an uneasy chill through her. Felicity had been her closest friend since childhood, yet after that brief, cold conversation with Charles in Vernon’s dining room last night, Jane wasn’t sure where she stood with anyone anymore.

If Felicity shut her out, then she would have her answer. Her life as she knew it would truly be over.

But that wasn’t the only thing she had been avoiding since waking up in this unfamiliar room.

The news.

Even though Vernon had assured her that he had stopped the articles from being published—evident in the lack of journalists swarming the prosecutor’s office or staking out her home—she knew a business merger of this scale wouldn’t go unnoticed.

VJ and LING were giants in the corporate world. Even without direct scandalous headlines, people would talk. And sooner or later, she would have to face the fallout.

With trembling fingers, Jane opened the browser on her phone and typed her father’s name into the search bar, bracing herself for whatever scandalous headlines might appear. Her heart pounded as the page loaded, expecting the worst.

To her surprise—and relief—all the articles from major newspapers and magazines followed the same narrative.

"...Vernon Lin, CEO of LING, announced the swift acquisition of VJ Software Solutions... as Ian Devold faces health complications following a heart attack...?"

Jane’s eyebrows shot up. She reread the words in disbelief.

Did he manipulate the media to hide the truth about the buyout?

Her eyes skimmed down the article, searching for more details.

"...To ensure job security for VJ’s employees, Vernon Lin and Ian Devold have reached a mutual decision to merge the companies, as Mr. Devold is no longer able to manage the business on his own..."

A dry, humorless laugh threatened to escape her lips. Scrolling down to the end of the article, she checked the publishing time—just a few minutes past midnight.

He kept his word... He had this ready to go the moment I agreed to marry him.

Jane clenched her phone tighter. There was no doubt in her mind—Vernon had never even considered the possibility of her saying no. He had anticipated her answer from the start. The more she thought about it, the clearer it became. He must have orchestrated this deal the moment he realized her father’s company was drowning.

Merging with a struggling company made sense, especially if it meant absorbing another competitor. But why had he gone so far as to take on her debts as well?

If all he wanted was to avoid the relentless marriage proposals from socialites and business families, there were plenty of other women he could have chosen—women without nearly a million dollars in looming debt.

So why her?

Is it because we know each other from back then? Her mind wandered back to the days when Vernon had been her tutor, but even that reasoning felt insufficient.

Unless...

Her racing thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a loud, persistent knock echoing through the otherwise silent room.

Jane cleared her throat, preparing to respond, but before she could even speak, one of the doors swung open, startling her. She flinched, her back hitting the headboard of the bed as Vernon stepped inside.

"Still in bed?" he asked, his voice commanding, as he marched into the room, completely ignoring the disapproving look she gave him.

He quickly scanned the room, his eyes moving over every corner as though searching for something. His gaze finally landed on the untouched tray of breakfast food, and his frown deepened instantly.

"Starving yourself? Do you think I’d order someone to poison you or something?" His tone was dripping with irritation.

Jane briefly glanced at the food, then quickly returned her gaze to Vernon, shaking her head in slight nervousness.

He walked toward her, his footsteps slow but firm. Without a word, he leaned down and, in one swift motion, took hold of her chin, gently but firmly.

Jane couldn’t help but think that this—being the recipient of his touch—had become one of his preferred ways to handle her.

For a few moments, Vernon silently examined her face, his eyes narrowing as he took in the dark circles beneath her eyes. His expression softened, if only slightly, before his fingers left her chin and reached for a fresh strawberry resting on the bed of whipped cream atop the waffles.

He plucked it carefully, then, without hesitation, ordered, "Open your mouth."

As if in a daze, Jane parted her lips, and Vernon quickly slid the strawberry between them. The creamy whipped topping smeared slightly over her lower lip, a delicate mark of his touch.

He helped her close her mouth, and as her lips pressed together, he traced his thumb over them, spreading the cream along the soft, pink surface. A satisfied grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Doesn’t look like you can’t eat. So what’s the problem?" he asked, his voice low, almost teasing.

Swallowing the strawberry in a rush, without even bothering to chew, Jane realized she might have swallowed her ability to speak along with it. Her gaze met Vernon’s again, and with great effort, she parted her lips. Finally, she managed to murmur, "I am... n-not very hungry..."

But, just as the words left her mouth, another loud, embarrassing grumble echoed through the quiet room, betraying her attempt at deception.

Vernon’s eyes sharpened, and his lips twisted into a wry smirk. "I want this to be the last lie you tell me, princess." His voice turned colder, the usual warmth now gone. He released her chin, letting his fingers fall away.

His gaze shifted to her shoulder, and his expression darkened briefly when he noticed a pajama strap hanging loosely down her arm. For a split second, his demeanor faltered, but then it returned to its usual, detached calm.

"Finish your food and get dressed," he ordered, his tone now more authoritative. "There’s somewhere I want to take you."