Trading My Fiancé for His Enemy - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Ethan jolted awake and immediately called the cops.
Once the police hauled Derek away, the chaos finally settled. We slept like babies that night, and I woke up to Ethan planting soft kisses all over my face.
Something had shifted in his gaze since that night—dark, intense, like he wanted to consume me whole. I buried my face under the quilt, unable to handle the heat in his stare.
"Cutie, let's get married."
"Wait—what? Are you serious?"
"With the Jones-Fletcher alliance dead, your family needs a new power player, right? The Lockwoods fit the bill," he said, all business.
I'd nearly forgotten about my family's mess. My sham engagement to Derek was pointless now. But without solid grounds, my parents would never let me call it off.
Still... why me?
"So why pick me?"
Ethan smirked. "Sweetheart, if you sleep with me and don't marry me, that's just exploitation. I can't let you get away with that."
Two hours later, we walked out of City Hall. Dazed, I clutched our marriage certificate while Ethan grinned like he'd won the lottery. He whipped out his phone, snapping pics of the certificate from every angle. Within an hour, our wedding news blew up Instagram. Our phones exploded with calls—so Ethan shut his off and whisked me away to France.
"Perfect honeymoon," he declared.
We wandered Paris hand in hand. At the Eiffel Tower, Ethan dropped to one knee and proposed (again). We kissed in Provence's lavender fields, explored the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre-Dame—every iconic corner.
By the time we got home a month later, my phone was a disaster zone of unread messages. While I debated where to even start, Mia Chilton, my ride-or-die, finally got through.
"Sis! I thought you'd been murdered!"
Grinning at Ethan, I chirped, "Nope! Just got married."
"MARRIED? Sheila Fletcher, you legend. Club tonight—full debrief mandatory."
"Fine."
Before leaving, I caked on concealer, but the hickeys still peeked through. I shot Ethan a death glare. "Thanks to you, I'm wearing a turtleneck in summer."
He pouted, pulling up his shirt. "Wanna see the claw marks you left on my back?"
I bolted before he could fully strip.
At the club, Mia launched into a Derek rant: "Girl, he's been parading around with Rebecca, telling everyone you're just her placeholder!"
I calmly flashed my pigeon-egg diamond. "And? I'm married now."
Mia gaped. "Wait—you're actually into Ethan Lockwood?"
Everyone knew Ethan—Kinnaird's most notorious playboy—and me, Miss Prim-and-Proper. The idea of him settling down was laughable.
I shrugged. "Turns out, the rumors got him wrong. He's... incredible."
"Good! Derek was always a two-faced snake. But how'd you fall for a guy like Ethan?"
"I didn't. He crashed into my life. And I'm done chasing men!"
"About damn time! You're a catch—Derek never deserved you. Cheers to ditching that loser!" She raised her glass. "Another toast—to your hot mess of a marriage!"
Mia was a lightweight who loved to drink. Three sips in, she was swaying. I called for backup—only for Derek and his buddy Xavier to stroll into our VIP section.
Xavier waved awkwardly. "Sheila! Ran into Derek, so we figured we'd say hi."