Chapter 4: The Public Wife
318 Words
Amara stared at her reflection, barely recognizing the woman looking back at her.
The elegant red dress hugged her body perfectly. Her hair was styled, her makeup flawless. She looked like she belonged in Adrian Wolfe’s world.
But inside… she felt completely out of place.
“Mr. Wolfe is waiting,” the stylist said softly.
Amara nodded and stood, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she walked out.
Adrian was already downstairs.
The moment his eyes landed on her, he paused.
Just for a second.
Something unreadable crossed his face before it disappeared.
“You clean up well,” he said flatly.
Amara crossed her arms. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
He ignored that. “We’re attending a dinner tonight. Important people will be there. You will stay close to me, smile when necessary, and say nothing unnecessary.”
She frowned. “I’m not a doll, Adrian.”
His gaze hardened. “Then don’t act like a problem.”
The words stung.
Before she could respond, he stepped closer, adjusting a loose strand of her hair. His fingers brushed her cheek—brief, but enough to send an unexpected shiver down her spine.
“Remember,” he murmured, “they’re watching.”
Amara swallowed hard.
The car ride was silent, tension thick between them.
When they arrived, cameras flashed instantly.
Voices shouted.
“Mr. Wolfe! Who is she?”
“Is this your wife?”
“Why the secret wedding?”
Amara froze.
Adrian’s hand suddenly wrapped around hers.
Firm. Possessive.
He pulled her closer, his lips brushing her ear.
“Smile,” he whispered.
Her heart pounded as she forced a smile, flashes blinding her vision.
To the world, they looked perfect.
Powerful.
Untouchable.
But as Amara glanced up at Adrian…
She couldn’t ignore the strange feeling growing inside her.
Because for the first time—
This fake marriage didn’t feel completely fake anymore.
- Writer
