Raisel – POV

Alaric was cutting the cake. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Soren’s blank look, but there was a hint of amusement because the cake tasted like pure fire. Davina was coughing, and Alaric’s face was red—I knew this happened whenever he ate spicy food; he couldn’t tolerate it. I enjoyed their misery, their faces giving away their discomfort. The crowd looked worried, some even confused, as if thinking it was just another prank after all the other disasters that had happened at their wedding. Davina managed to keep smiling, and Alaric played along, calling it a prank, but no one believed them at all. All eyes were on Hazel’s mother, who looked ashamed and frustrated with how things were going, and I could see Hazel feeling a bit guilty for putting her mother in such a situation.

The champagne opening and the toast went well, but I was sure something else was coming. My eyes scanned the party, seeing people half amused by the drama and half offering sympathetic looks. Some seemed to suspect that we were behind the chaos, but without proof, they couldn’t point fingers.

The music was the only thing working fine, covering the murmurs and gossip. “Are you enjoying yourself, Raisel?” A soft whisper in my ear made me shiver—there was something about Soren’s low voice that felt almost seductive. I must be going crazy.

“Yeah,” I whispered, as his hand brushed against mine, his fingers slowly interlocking with mine. I wanted to ask why we were holding hands, but then I remembered the fake dating agreement. I looked at our intertwined fingers and quickly relaxed, trying to look natural.

“The dance floor is open. Please join us for a dance,” the party’s emcee announced. Soren’s eyes were on me, silently asking if I wanted to dance. I wanted to say no, but I needed to look happy and in love with Soren, selling our act. I could feel Alaric stealing glances at me, and I knew he was pissed about how his wedding was turning into a disaster instead of a fairytale.

“It’s okay if you’re not comfortable,” Soren said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Let’s dance.” He gave me a small smile for a second before his usual stoic look returned as he continued to meet and greet people. But his gaze still held warmth. The dance floor buzzed with soft, ambient lights casting a gentle glow. Even Davina and Alaric were on the dance floor. The romantic music played, and Soren’s eyes were only on me. I felt intimidated by how convincingly he was showing that he was in love with me—he was a good actor, I had to admit. But I only saw Soren as a friend, and it was hard to act like I was in love. Still, I tried my best to smile and dance the waltz, his warm hand on my back and his large hand holding mine.

“Are you alright? You look like you want this to end quickly and go home,” he whispered in my ear, his lips brushing my earlobe. I gasped at the sudden touch, breaking in goosebumps.

“I think you want to do that, so don’t put it on me,” I said. He smirked, and damn, his handsome face…

“Maybe I want to take you away from here because I hate how many men are staring at you,” he whispered. I blinked at him in confusion; no one could hear our conversation, but it felt like I was dating him for real with those jealous words.

“You…” I couldn’t continue because my eyes caught Davina tripping over her wedding gown and falling, with Alaric stumbling down as he tried to help her. A low chuckle escaped Soren’s lips, and I looked at him, seeing his eyes darken—it felt like his personal revenge.

“See something you like?” Soren asked, catching me watching him. I rolled my eyes and looked at Davina, who seemed high rather than just tipsy, cursing loudly while Alaric tried to help her up and stop her from cursing. People around them tried to help, but she only looked frustrated.

“What a change in nature,” I said.

“Because she’s high.” My eyes shot up in shock. She did drugs?

“Get out of my party—it’s ruined thanks to my stepbrother Soren!” Davina screamed as Alaric tried to lead her away while she attempted to attack Soren. I blinked in surprise. I didn’t know Davina was his stepsister, and even Hazel looked shocked. The Dalton family had a big name, but their family ties were secrets many didn’t know.

“Let’s go home, Raisel,” Soren said calmly, unfazed by the surprised looks and glares. I followed him out, and Hazel’s mother grabbed her hand, yelling at her and throwing me a hateful glare before taking Hazel away.

“Why did Davina call you yesterday?” I finally asked.

He sighed. “Let’s go home, Raisel. I’ll explain everything,” he whispered in my ear.