The first flash nearly blinded me.

And then his lips touched mine.

The noise, the cameras, the glittering hall everything went quiet. It was as if the world froze, holding its breath. My mind screamed, but my body didn’t move. Damien’s hand pressed against the small of my back, and the kiss deepened.

For a second, I forgot it was all a show.

Then the crowd exploded, cheering, clapping, flashing lights like a storm of fireflies. I pulled back, breathless. My heart was a drum, slamming against my ribs.

“What was that?” I whispered.

Damien’s lips brushed my ear. “It worked. Now they believe it.”

“That wasn’t in the script.”

His eyes flickered with something sharp. “It is now.”

He didn’t smile. He didn’t need to. The room already believed the lie.

He stood tall beside me as we faced the reporters, his arm coiled around my waist like property disguised as security. I tried to look relaxed, graceful even, but every nerve in me screamed to run.

One reporter shouted, “Miss West, how does it feel to be engaged to the city’s most powerful man?”

Before I could think, Damien answered for me, voice smooth as ice. “She’s right where she belongs.”

That tone was too dark, too final. It made me shiver.

The crowd laughed, thinking it was a charm. But I saw the truth in his eyes.

He meant it.

I forced a polite smile, hiding the shaking in my hands.

My phone buzzed again in my bag. I glanced down, pretending to fix my band.

Unknown Number: He’s lying to you.

Unknown Number: Find out about Lucas.

Unknown Number: Leave while you still can.

My throat dried. I quickly locked the screen before Damien could see.

And then, I froze.

Because she walked in.

Cassandra.

Every word in the room seemed to follow her red dress. Her beauty was a weaponcold, intentional, unforgettable. The way she looked at Damien told me one thing: history.

Damien’s grip on me tightened. His voice was low. “Don’t react. She wants you to.”

“It’s too late,” I whispered.

She was already walking toward us, heels slicing the quiet.

“Damien,” she said sweetly. “I see you’ve upgraded.” Her eyes slid over me. “How long do you plan to keep this one?”

I felt Damien’s body tense beside me. His jaw moved. “Nice to see you too, Cassandra.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “And you must be Aria West. I’ve read about you. The contract fiancée. How romantic.”

My chest tightened. “You seem well-informed.”

“Oh, darling,” she said, tilting her head. “When it comes to Damien, everyone tries to stay informed. It’s safer that way.”

“Enough,” Damien snapped. “Not here.”

Her smirk grew. “Oh, but here is perfect. You always did like playing for an audience.”

I stepped forward slightly, my smile brittle. “It’s a lovely evening, Miss Vale. Let’s not ruin it.”

“Of course,” she purred, her eyes glinting. “Enjoy it while you can.”

And just like that, she turned and melted into the crowd, leaving behind the faint trace of danger and perfume.

I turned sharply to Damien. “What the hell was that?”

“She doesn’t matter.”

“She looked like she mattered.” I looked at him. “Who is she, really?”

His face didn’t change. “She’s part of a past I buried.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he took my hand and led me toward the stage.

“This wasn’t in the plan,” I hissed. “Why are we going up there?”

“To make it official.”

My stomach dropped. “You said we were just making an announcement.”

He gave me a quick, sharp look. “Smile, Aria. This is the part where everyone thinks we love each other.”

The host’s words boomed through the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Damien Hawthorne and his fiancée, Aria West!”

Applause rippled. Cameras flashed.

Damien took the microphone and began his speech about business, charity, and the future. I didn’t hear any of it. My eyes darted across the crowd, searching for Cassandra. She was gone.

But I could feel her still. Watching. Waiting.

When Damien’s voice dropped low, I turned to him. His eyes caught mine. “And tonight,” he said, “I want to show the world how much I love her.”

Before I could respond, he kissed me again.

Longer this time. Harder.

The crowd gasped, then erupted in cheers. His fingers twisted in my hair, his breath mixed with mine, his lips claimed me like a statement.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t fake.

It was chaos.

And the worst part? I kissed him back.

For a heartbeat, everything else disappeared. The noise, the lights, the lies. It was just mouth, his warmth, his hunger. I felt my shields break, my breath catch, my knees weaken.

And then he pulled away, his voice low enough for only me. “Now they believe it.”

I swallowed hard. “You kissed me to make them believe?”

He smiled weakly. “I kissed you because it worked.”

By the time we reached the car, I could barely breathe.

I slammed the door behind me and looked at him. “That kiss! That wasn’t part of the agreement!”

Damien didn’t even move. “It made the story convincing.”

“Who exactly are you trying to convince the crowd or yourself?”

His eyes turned sharp. “Does it matter?”

“It does to me,” I said quietly. “Because for a second, I almost believed it.”

He turned toward me, his jaw tightening. “Maybe it wasn’t fake after all.”

The air froze between us. I opened my mouth to speak, but my phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number: He’s not telling you the truth.

I looked at Damien. “Who the hell is Lucas?”

He went still.

“What?”

“You heard me,” I said, my voice shaking. “Someone keeps messaging me. They say you’re lying. They say Cassandra knew Lucas. Who is he?”

Damien didn’t answer instantly. His knuckles whitened against the seat.

“Damien?”

Finally, he said, “No one you need to worry about.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He turned to face the window. “Drop it, Aria.”

I stared at him, my heart racing. “You’re hiding something.”

He exhaled quickly. “I’m protecting you.”

“From what?”

He didn’t answer.

I leaned closer. “Or from who?”

He looked at me thenhis eyes were cold but full of something deeper. Guilt.

“Cassandra wasn’t just my ex,” he said quietly. “She was my enemy. And Lucas was her brother.”

I went cold. “Her brother?”

He nodded. “He died three years ago. She blames me for it.”

My head spun. “And are you guilty?”

His quiet was the only answer I needed.

I felt my throat tighten. “So all of this… the fake engagement, the gala, everything it's about her, isn’t it? You’re using me to get to her.”

His jaw clenched. “You don’t understand.”

"Then explain it to me!" I shouted. “Because I don’t know who to believe anymore.”

He looked away. “Neither should you.”

Before I could speak again, the car stopped.

He reached into his pocket and gave me a small envelope. “You’ll need this.”

“What is it?”

“Proof,” he said softly. “But don’t open it until I tell you.”

My hand trembled as I took it. “What happens if I do?”

His eyes met mine. “You’ll regret it.”

And then, before I could question him again, his phone rang. He looked at the screen, frowned, and stepped out of the car.

I could only hear snippets of his talk. His tone was low, dangerous.

When he got back in, his face was pale.

“What is it?” I asked.

He stared straight ahead. “Cassandra’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“She left the country an hour ago. But she took something.”

“What did she take?”

His voice was barely a whisper. “The file.”

“What file?”

“The one about Lucas.”

My heart stopped.

“Damien,” I mumbled. “What was in that file?”

He didn’t answer.

And then my phone buzzed again. One closing message.

Unknown Number: She’s not gone. She’s coming for you both.

I looked up, my pulse beating. “Damien…”

But before I could say another word, a red light blinked on the dashboardsmall, quiet, steady.

Damien’s eyes widened. “Get out of the car.”

“What? why?”

“Now, Aria!” he shouted, grabbing my wrist.

The blast ripped through the night.

As the smoke filled the air, Damien pulled me into the darkness, his voice breaking through the roar.

“She’s not trying to kill me,” he whispered hoarsely. “She’s trying to take you.”