4.Chapter 4 I’m Her Husband
At that moment, Phoebe had just arrived at the villa. She opened the door and was surprised to see Mason standing there. A flash of confusion crossed her eyes as she asked, “What are you doing here?”
Mason gave her a warm, gentle smile. “Long time no see. I had a gig in Roseberg and thought I’d stop by for a night. I didn’t know you’d be here, though. If it’s inconvenient, I can leave.”
Before her marriage to Declan, Phoebe had worked for a time as a behind-the-scenes agent. Mason had been one of the artists she managed—her most hardworking one at that.
She’d always admired his dedication and they’d developed a mentor-mentee relationship that later turned into a genuine friendship. Even after she stopped managing him, Phoebe arranged for him to work with one of the best agents in the industry. Over the years, Mason’s fame had only grown.
Back then, when Phoebe learned about Mason’s family’s financial struggles, she’d given him the key to this villa, telling him he could stay anytime. After Phoebe married Declan, though, she became so focused on helping him recover his legs that she’d completely forgotten about the offer.
Phoebe smiled lightly, “It’s fine. It’s getting late. You’re way too famous now—if you go outside, heads will be turning left and right. It’s probably not ideal for you to stay at a hotel, so just stay here tonight. You can leave tomorrow.”
As Phoebe grabbed her luggage and started heading upstairs, Mason walked over and offered, “Let me help with that.”
“It’s fine, it’s not that heavy.”
“Are you planning to move in?”
There was a hint of cautious probing in his tone, but Phoebe didn’t notice. She nodded and said, “Yeah, so it might be a little less convenient for you to stay here in the future.”
Mason replied, “Alright, I understand. I’ve been staying here for so many years already. I’m grateful for it.”
Seeing how seriously he was taking it, Phoebe couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, you’re an award-winning actor now. You could probably buy ten of these villas without breaking a sweat.”
Mason couldn’t help but smile to himself. He had already bought the villa next door to hers, but he still preferred this one. It was where she had lived, and he couldn’t deny the comfort he found in the lingering traces of her presence.
“Want some coffee? I’m brewing a pot,” he offered.
Phoebe nodded. “Sure, but I’m going to take a quick shower first.”
“Okay.” He nodded and, after grabbing her luggage, carried it upstairs.
Mason then went back to the kitchen with a smile, continuing to grind the coffee beans. Just as he finished brewing the coffee, the doorbell rang.
He walked over to the door, looking through the peephole, and was momentarily surprised. Standing outside was none other than Declan, the CEO of Richardson Group.
Mason recognized him immediately—Declan’s face was a staple in finance magazines, and Mason had recently worked on a film that Richardson Group had invested in.
Mason wondered, ‘What’s he doing here? Is he here to see Phoebe? But these two don’t exactly seem like the type to have any kind of relationship.’
Before Mason could think further, Declan’s patience seemed to run out, and he rang the doorbell several more times.
Finally, the door opened. But to Declan’s surprise, it wasn’t Phoebe who answered. It was a man he had never seen before. Given the circumstances, he immediately assumed this must be Mason, the “newly crowned Best Actor” Patrick had mentioned.
Declan’s eyes darkened with an icy glint, and his anger was practically bubbling over. “Where’s Phoebe?”
Sensing the hostility in his tone, Mason furrowed his brows. “She’s in the shower. Is there something you need from her, Mr. Richardson?”
Declan let out a low, chilling laugh, each word dripping with icy contempt. “I’m her husband. You tell me, what do you think I want with her?”
