Moonlight filtered through the curtains as Jenna Roland slept soundly, curled beneath the blankets.

A sharp knock shattered the silence.

She turned over, burying her face deeper into the pillow without stirring.

Outside, Ethan Roscente checked his watch impatiently before turning to the hotel manager. "Get a spare key."

Recognizing the business tycoon, the manager hurried to comply.

Ethan dismissed him with a wave and locked the door behind him.

As he approached the bed, Jenna suddenly rolled over, blinking drowsily.

"Ah!" Her scream pierced the night as she scrambled backward. "Ghost!"

His expression darkened as he flicked on the bedside lamp.

Warm light revealed his striking features.

Jenna stared, her mind blank.

"How...how did you get in?" she finally managed.

Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, his intense gaze holding hers. "About my identity—I need to explain."

"Don't bother." Her voice turned icy. "Breaking into my room at midnight is grounds for calling the police."

She clutched the blankets, her pulse still racing. Who expected to wake up to a man looming over their bed?

"This can't wait." His tone brooked no argument. "Grandma Blanche insisted I hide my identity when we married—to protect you. It wasn't deception, just delayed truth."

Jenna scoffed. "Afraid I'd gold-dig the Roscente fortune?"

"No." He shook his head. "If we divorced, courts would divide assets fairly. The secrecy was solely her request."

"A marriage built on lies?" Her voice hardened. "Let's end this."

Ethan's breath caught. He'd rushed here to reassure her, only to hear the word "divorce."

He seized her hand. "I'll transfer my HM Group shares to you. Jenna, I love you. Don't do this."

"Love?" She pulled free. "Would the Roscentes ever accept an ex-escort as family? Let's part cleanly before this gets ugly."

Panic flashed in his eyes. "What will convince you?"

"Simple." She met his gaze squarely. "Sign the papers."