NINE

Two weeks had passed since the papers were signed. Wesley and I were engaged, but nothing had truly changed. It wasn’t a real engagement—it was a deal. He had leverage over Marco, and I got protection. That was all it was, and it always would be.

I sat in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of my dress, still trying to get used to the ring on my finger. It felt heavier every time I looked at it—like a constant reminder that my life was no longer mine to control. It wasn’t a symbol of love, it wasn’t a promise of a future. It was just a piece of jewelry, a shiny piece of metal with a diamond that sparkled brightly in the light. Nothing more.

Wesley was downstairs, already dressed in his dark suit. He looked exactly like the man he was: cold, distant, ruthless. He walked in, barely sparing me a glance. His eyes weren’t soft. They were sharp, calculating. He was always calculating.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice clipped.

I nodded, not bothering to speak. There was no need for words between us anymore. We both knew exactly why we were here.

We arrived at the gala, and the moment we stepped inside, I felt the weight of the room hit me. The air was thick with power. The rich, the elite, the ones who owned everything. They moved through the crowd with the kind of grace that came from knowing you were untouchable. I wasn’t like them. I never would be.

Despite everything Marco had done, integrating me into this world, I knew I was still an outsider. And now that Marco was gone, I was alone. An outsider without a purpose. It was like all those years I’d spent learning their rules didn’t matter anymore. I was just a stranger now.

Wesley moved through the crowd with the ease of someone who had always belonged here. He knew everyone—shook hands, exchanged smiles, nodded with the kind of authority that demanded attention. People parted for him, not out of fear, but because they respected him. He wasn’t just wealthy; he commanded respect.

I stayed close to him, just close enough so people could see we were together. But I wasn’t here for the show. I was here because Marco wouldn’t dare make a move while Wesley stood beside me. That was the only reason.

The whispers started almost immediately. People looked us up and down, studying, judging, wondering what kind of relationship we really had. They probably thought we were in love. It was easy to assume, with the ring on my finger, the way we stood together, how he had kissed me in front of everyone earlier. But we weren’t in love. We were using each other. I was a pawn in his game, and he was just a tool in mine.

Wesley didn’t talk to me much during the event. He was too busy. He greeted people, made deals, spoke with such power that I couldn’t help but feel the stark contrast between him and me. He didn’t need me to navigate this world. I was just a prop, a shield against Marco’s influence. But I wasn’t here for the pomp and circumstance. I wasn’t interested in playing along. I was here for survival.

Hours passed. Wesley barely looked at me. He was too preoccupied, lost in the world he was made for. And then, just as I thought I might finally slip into the background, he turned to me.

The look on his face was different this time—still cold, still calculating, but there was something else in his eyes. It was the kind of look that made my stomach churn.

“Make them watch,” he said, his voice low, demanding.

Before I could even process what he meant, his lips were on mine. The kiss was sudden, forceful, and uninvited. There was no gentleness in it, no hint of care. It wasn’t for me. It was for everyone else. A show. A way for him to prove to the crowd that I was his. That this engagement was real.

I stood frozen for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of it. The world around us seemed to go still. People had stopped talking, their gazes focused solely on us. But I didn’t pull away. There was no point. This wasn’t about me. It was about the power he wanted to display. The dominance he needed to reinforce. I kissed him back, mechanically, even though every fiber of my being wanted to recoil.

When he finally pulled away, there was no softness in his eyes, no affection, nothing that resembled what people thought love might look like. His eyes were as cold as ever, distant. He didn’t say a word, just turned back to the crowd, blending into the sea of rich faces as if nothing had happened. As if the kiss had meant nothing.

I stood there, my chest tight, my heart pounding, but I couldn’t move. I was numb, but also painfully aware of the truth. This wasn’t a mistake. This wasn’t something he’d done out of affection or a momentary lapse. This was a calculated move, a way to solidify his power, to remind everyone that I belonged to him.

The weight of it hit me all at once. There was no going back. Not for either of us.

I wasn’t in love with him, and he wasn’t in love with me. This was just a business transaction, a way for both of us to survive. There was no romance here. No affection. Just a contract and a kiss to seal the deal.

There was no escape from this. And there was no going back. Not anymore.