My Husband, the Fox

Scarlett Ashford realized Sebastian Montgomery had returned half an hour after she had lain down.

She had just relocated from Norbury to Kingshaven, and the unfamiliarity of the bed kept her awake—even if this suite in Hawthorne Manor was technically one of her marital homes.

In that liminal space between sleep and waking, her lashes fluttered. The bedroom door was pushed ajar.

Inside, endless darkness; outside, the dim amber glow of the corridor. The light was blocked by the man’s tall silhouette, casting a long shadow across the Persian rug.

Scarlett’s eyelashes trembled slightly. The man was backlit; his features were obscured.

He stood at the threshold of light and shadow, one hand loosening his shirt collar, looking at the lump beneath the duvet on the bed. He couldn’t see her face, only the strands of long hair scattered messily across the pillow.

“How long has she been asleep?”

“Just drifted off…”

“Sir, aren’t you going in?”

“I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

The low timbre of his voice faded, along with the housekeeper’s footsteps.

*Click.*

The sound of the door closing echoed softly in the room.

“Madam, your broth is getting cold.”

Watching the lady of the house stir her cup for a full minute, the butler, Alfred, finally couldn’t help but remind her.

Scarlett snapped back to reality, pulling her thoughts from the chaos of the previous night. She took an elegant sip of the warm herbal broth and asked, “What time did your master get home last night?”

“It was midnight, sir has been extremely busy lately,” Alfred replied. “And he was up by four-thirty.” He intentionally dropped that detail, hoping the lady might feel a twinge of sympathy.

Midnight to four-thirty. A textbook workaholic capitalist.

Unfortunately, Scarlett was a corporate grunt herself—heartless and unsympathetic. She merely slapped a label on Sebastian Montgomery in her mind.

—So last night wasn’t a dream.

When she woke up that morning, she hadn’t noticed anything amiss. It was only when she saw the housekeeper tidying the guest room that she realized Sebastian had actually been there.

Day one of their long-distance marriage ending, and the couple were sleeping in separate rooms.

Her phone on the table vibrated. A message from her best friend, Leanne Hart: *[Your husband really knows how to steal the show!]*

Scarlett looked confused. She tapped the notification, redirecting her to X (formerly Twitter).

The trending topic was a repost from foreign media. A couple of days ago, Sebastian had been invited to the birthday banquet of an heir to a centuries-old British aristocratic family—they were former Oxford alumni.

The photos showed a sea of guests,No shortage royalty and nobles, yet Sebastian stood right beside the host. His physique was superior, eclipsing everyone around him. He wore a perfectly tailored vintage tailcoat, broad-shouldered with a narrow waist. His wing-collared shirt and bow tie made him look like a gentleman straight out of the 19th century.

Sebastian held a glass of champagne, conversing with the host, a faint, roguish smile playing on his lips.

Scarlett admired the photo for half a minute before scrolling through the replies.

Kingshaven’s old money prince had once again ensnared the chronically online masses.

*[That waist though!]*

*[If he’s not my husband, who is?!]*

*[He looks so proper, I just want to ruin that suit.]*

*[Why are the comments filled with nothing but thirst?!]*

Just before leaving, Scarlett swiped back to the photo, studying Sebastian’s attire intently.

The headquarters of Kingshaven Broadcasting (KBTV) stood tall in the bustling heart of the city. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet; the faint morning glow silhouetted the glass facade.

Outside, the city was a river of steel; inside, operations ran like clockwork.

At 5:50 AM, *Morning News头条* was about to begin. The studio was a hive of activity, though a few calmly composed staff members lingered outside, gossiping.

“This scandal about William York is so sudden. I wonder if we’re even allowed to air it.”

“If we can’t, then Ms. Shen won’t have a—”

The rhythmic click-clack of stilettos approached from down the hall.

Someone nudged the speaker.

Before the word “chance” could leave her lips, a figure rounded the corner and stepped among them.

Speaking of the devil.

The hallway fell silent. They exchanged glances and tacitly shut up. “Perfect timing, Scarlett.”

Scarlett was dressed in a powder-pink suit today, exuding an elegant, intellectual charm. Her eyes curved into a smile, exceptionally gentle. “I think so too.”

The director who had asked the question was momentarily stunned by that smile. What was originally meant as nosy gossip turned into genuine enthusiasm. “Since it’s your first day anchoring the news, I’m sure it’ll go flawlessly…”

Scarlett thanked her, her voice clear and sweet, before stepping into the studio.

Those left outside mulled it over. A host so polite and gentle—those unrealistic rumors flying around had to be false.

The TV station had its fair share of beauties, but few possessed a radiant elegance devoid of vulgarity. Scarlett Ashford was blessed with an extraordinary face: exquisite features, striking bone structure, and flawless skin akin to fine porcelain. Even in the entertainment industry, she would be one of a kind.

But she chose to be a broadcaster, not a starlet.

Teagan Baker saw Scarlett walk in. “The new script was just delivered.”

Last weekend, when Scarlett came to complete her onboarding, Teagan, an intern, had been assigned as her assistant. The college girl was full of youthful energy.

In the early hours of this morning, trending actor William York had been exposed by his girlfriend. He had been caught hooking up multiple times, using the excuse of a two-month dry spell with his girlfriend to justify his six-timing ways. The evidence was ironclad. Forget the fake single persona and the moral bankruptcy—even his looks-obsessed fans couldn’t accept the unedited, un-photoshopped mugshots.

On top of that, York was exposed for a past assault and detention—an incident no one had connected to him before.

The segment Scarlett was supposed to read was about the latter. Seeing the crossed-out sections in the script, her eyebrow arched. “Who redacted this?”

Teagan said, “Ms. Moon. She said William York has powerful backing. Airing it would drag the station into the mud and hurt your career, plus we don’t even know if it’s entirely true.”

Scarlett raised an eyebrow. She flicked the script with her finger, offering her commentary: “An incompetent man who can’t even last two months without straying. By that logic, the man who endured six months must be a saint.”

“Tell me about it—” Teagan blinked, then caught on. “Who is this saint? I want to stan him.”

“My husband,” Scarlett replied mildly.

Teagan didn’t buy it for a second. “Yeah, right. If I had a gorgeous wife like you, I’d be keeping you up every single night!”

Scarlett chuckled, replying with leisurely grace, “Which is why you’re a corporate grunt, and he’s the boss.”

Teagan: “…”

She’d believe that when pigs fly.

At exactly 6:00 AM, KBTV’s *Morning News* went live.

The hashtags regarding William York were being aggressively suppressed. Early-bird gossip accounts were all watching the room, waiting for someone else to make the first move before they dipped their toes in.

York’s toxic fanbase was simultaneously trying to control the narrative and threatening the ex-girlfriend in her comment section.

“The person in those photos clearly isn’t him!”

“Who can’t fake a chat log? I could Photoshop a hundred right now.”

“Even the gossip blogs aren’t touching it, which means it’s fake.”

Right then, an influencer posted a short video clip.

“No one’s sharing it because it literally just made it onto the national television news.”

In the thirty-second clip, a stunningly beautiful anchor delivered the report. Countless onlookers clicked in, treated to an absolute feast for the eyes and ears. Who cared about trash like William York anymore?

After the morning broadcast ended, the studio fell quiet.

Teagan was frantic, handing over a glass of warm water. “How could you just read that?! His fans are going to rip you apart!”

The little assistant was terrified, but the person involved was in a great mood. Viewership was up; maybe she’d get promoted to the noon broadcast soon and finally stop waking up at the crack of dawn.

Scarlett took a sip of water. When she returned upstairs, countless eyes in the office area followed her.

“Scarlett, I deleted that news piece. Why did you still air it?” a female voice rang out. “Great, now so many people have already seen it.”

Scarlett turned her head toward Sylvia Moon and suddenly let out a soft laugh. “Ms. Moon is too cowardly to read the news, yet she had the audacity to alter my script.”

Whether in the entertainment industry or the workplace, Sylvia had never encountered such direct, biting sarcasm. Her face instantly stiffened.

Teagan listened, her eyes shining with admiration.

Before Scarlett was transferred from the south to KBTV, everyone had looked up her resume. Surprisingly, she had only hosted a late-night emotional call-in show at a Norbury radio station, not even showing her face. She had earned the title of “The Mortal Nightingale” solely on the ethereal quality of her voice.

People assumed she was brought in to be a minor late-night host, but she was handed a prime morning news anchor slot instead—a position many had been coveting.

No one expected it to just be handed to Scarlett, the newcomer.

Naturally, all sorts of unpleasant rumors began to fly. There was a food chain among TV stations, with Central TV naturally at the apex. Outside of that, it was a competition. As the capital, Kingshaven’s KBTV considered itself second only to Central.

No one wanted to be outshone by a small-town host from a local affiliate.

Now, seeing her openly challenge Sylvia Moon, the crowd was split between those trying to defuse the tension and those eager for blood.

Sylvia glared at her. “Scarlett, if William York’s team issues a statement denying it, how do you plan to handle the wrath of his fans?”

Scarlett found it laughable. She hadn’t injected a single ounce of personal emotion into her broadcast. The news was what it was, and she delivered it exactly as such.

“I’ll just air his statement again tomorrow morning,” Scarlett replied.

She knew better than anyone that the assault and detention records were 100% real.

“…”

Was she really planning to milk William York a second time?

KBTV’s official X account was buzzing today, the engagement astronomically high, right up until William York and his agency released a vague, non-committal statement.

Just before clocking out, Scarlett received a text from her father-in-law: *[Just arrived there, are you settling in okay?]*

*[You and Sebastian need to build a relationship. What kind of arrangement is this—married but living in different cities? It’s not proper…]*

Scarlett was born in the south, to a wealthy family, but her marriage partner was Kingshaven’s Sebastian Montgomery. The Montgomery patriarch resided in Kingshaven; she had her own career in Norbury. Thus, they had tacitly begun a long-distance marriage, living on opposite ends of the country.

Aside from visiting each other’s families, most of their meetups involved Sebastian flying down to Norbury. Coupled with Scarlett’s busy schedule and a months-long training program abroad, they saw each other even less.

The gifts he sent for every holiday far outnumbered the times they had actually met.

When Scarlett arrived in Kingshaven the day before yesterday, she hadn’t even told Sebastian—he was abroad at the time. Up until now, they still hadn’t laid eyes on each other.

Just as she was thinking this, a call came from Leanne’s younger brother, Leo Hart. “Scarlett, are you off work yet?”

Scarlett glanced at the caller ID. “What’s up?”

“You came to Kingshaven and didn’t say a word?” Leo clicked his tongue on the other end. “If I hadn’t seen you on the news, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

Scarlett said, “Didn’t your sister tell you? What, not welcoming?”

Leo hurriedly replied, “I wouldn’t dare! It’s just this—my grandma wants to organize a charity exhibition and auction for her antique collection. I was struggling to pick an MC, and you showing up is perfect. I want to hire you. You know the people I know are all…”

Scarlett cut in, “I’d rather be the one placing the winning bids.”

Leo didn’t mind at all. “You can keep whatever you like. You can’t possibly want it all, right?”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“Even if you want it all, fine by me. Saves me the trouble of an auction. I’m catching a midnight flight to Seabridge, won’t be back for a week. Wanna meet up in a bit? I’ll give you the details. Let’s go to The Haven, try some Kingshaven cuisine?”

“Sure.”

Ending the call, Scarlett thought for a moment, then scrolled to the bottom of her WeChat and opened a conversation that had been dormant for ages, typing a single sentence:

*[I’m eating out tonight. I’ll be back late.]*

Just as she was leaving the office, the phone on her desk lit up.

Sebastian Montgomery: *[What time?]*

After giving Teagan a few final instructions, Scarlett returned to her office. Without checking her unread messages, she grabbed her purse and clocked out.

Leo was perceptive enough to pick her up personally. “Having you as the MC is going to add so much prestige.”

Outsiders didn’t know Scarlett’s true identity, but as her best friend’s brother, he was well aware. The Ashford family of Norbury was top-tier. Especially her cousin, Jonathan Ashford—a household name.

Scarlett asked, “Are many people attending?”

“For now, we’ve only notified close friends.”

“Not open to the public?”

“I’m still deciding. If there’s enough interest, we’ll throw a massive gala.”

“It won’t be short of attendees,” Scarlett mused. “You know your grandmother’s reputation. Her fans will come crawling out of the woodwork.”

“Exactly why I need you to hold the fort.”

“Keep your eyes on the road.”

Scarlett’s words proved prophetic. Just as they were nearing The Haven, an arrogant sports car tore out from the opposite lane, sideswiping their car.

She stepped out of the car, frowning.

Leo was startled, but thankfully no one was hurt. After confirming they were safe, he said, “Scarlett, why don’t you go up to the private room and wait for me?”

Scarlett wasn’t heartless. “I’ll wait.”

When the rich kid in the sports car saw the stunning beauty step out, his eyes lit up. He completely forgot about his girlfriend in the passenger seat and got out to hit on Scarlett.

Leo didn’t exactly have a temper for this. He blocked the guy. “Where the hell are you looking? Keep your eyes in your head.”

By the time Scarlett was sipping tea in the private room, news of the two rich kids’ fender bender was already making waves in their social circles.

Simultaneously, a photo was leaked—Scarlett standing by the car, looking indifferent. The wind had blown her long hair across her face, and she was casually tucking a strand behind her ear, her red lips looking bewitching.

Countless people were privately asking who she was.

Leo hadn’t even taken a bite of food before his car was towed away, leaving him in a foul mood. “Why am I so unlucky? I just convinced my dad to let me buy this car.”

“Out with the old, in with the new.”

“I wish there’d actually be a new one.”

“I’ll just grab a cab back later,” Scarlett said leisurely, eating a canapé. “You should take a cab too.”

Leo bared his teeth. “No way. You just got to Kingshaven. If I let you take a cab home, Leanne would flay me alive.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I just spotted an acquaintance. I can borrow a car.”

Scarlett assumed it was one of his trust-fund buddies. It wasn’t until she heard a commotion and looked up out of curiosity that she realized who the “acquaintance” was.

The man’s left hand, wearing a distinctive watch, hung by his side. His long legs were particularly striking.

He stood opposite Leo, towering half a head taller, exuding an aristocratic aura that Leo couldn’t hold a candle to.

The watch looked familiar; the man wearing it looked even more familiar.

Scarlett looked up, her gaze crashing directly into the man’s eyes.

Sebastian Montgomery’s gaze swept past Leo, landing squarely on her. He studied her for a moment, then raised an eyebrow, his voice unhurried as he uttered two words.

“Not lending.”

Leo was dumbfounded. “Huh?”

This wasn’t how the script was supposed to go!

Among the named old-money princes of Kingshaven’s elite circle, Sebastian Montgomery ranked second in age, and the title “Second Brother” was only used by a select few. Leo, riding on his own older brother’s coattails, had just enough of a connection to use the moniker.

He lowered his voice. “Second Brother, I have to drive a lady home. Please, I’m begging you.”

“Still no.” Sebastian’s expression was indifferent as he drawled slowly, “I don’t want to get a call from traffic cops at midnight.”

Leo scratched his head. The connection was tenuous to begin with, mostly riding on his brother’s coattails. Had his brother p*ss*d Sebastian off somehow?

He watched in disbelief as the man pulled out his phone, thumbs moving as if texting. “Are you seriously snitching to my brother right now?”

“Mhm.”

His long fingers resting on the screen, Sebastian’s voice was lazy.

At that exact moment, Scarlett, who was leaning against the wall enjoying the show, heard the distinct chime of a new message from the phone in her purse.

Sebastian Montgomery: *[Where to?]*

Scarlett Ashford glanced at the chat interface, then looked up at the languid man standing a few yards away. His eyelids were lowered; she couldn’t tell if he was even listening to Leo Hart’s babbling.

She typed back: *[Home.]*

Sebastian tiltedted his head, his gaze landing squarely on her face.

Scarlett met his eyes. He had the kind of bedroom eyes that promised trouble, yet his features were starkly aristocratic. The nonchalance in his expression carried an unexpectedly wicked, seductive edge.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable under his scrutiny, she lowered her head and added: *[Hawthorne Manor.]*

Hawthorne Manor was the estate she had slept in last night. When their arranged marriage was finalized, since they lived in different cities, the families had prepared two marital homes—one in Norbury, one in Kingshaven.

“Second Brother, have a heart! Just let me borrow it, I swear, nothing like tonight will ever ha