Chapter 5
880 Words
Chapter Five: The Gala Game
The Wolfe Foundation Annual Gala was held at The Marlowe, a luxury hotel that looked like it had been carved from marble and old money. The guest list read like a Forbes article—CEOs, celebrities, diplomats—and now… Lina Evans.
Correction. Lina Wolfe.
She stared at her reflection in the dressing mirror, the gown shimmering like liquid gold over her skin. It was backless, fitted, and daringly elegant. The makeup artist had kept her look soft but sharp—smoky eyes, nude lips, and just enough highlighter to glow under the chandeliers.
“You look like you belong,” Camilla said behind her, voice cool and clipped.
Lina managed a half-smile. “That’s the goal, right?”
“Correction. That’s the illusion.” Camilla stepped forward, adjusting Lina’s diamond earrings. “Your job tonight is simple: smile, say nothing controversial, and stay near Mr. Wolfe. Let the camera see you. Let the world talk.”
Easy enough.
Until you’re the poor girl playing billionaire’s bride in a ballroom full of sharks.
⸻
The moment they stepped out of the black car, cameras exploded like fireworks.
Alexander, flawless in a black tuxedo, didn’t flinch. He wrapped a hand around Lina’s waist and leaned in close enough to make the photographers purr.
“Smile,” he murmured under his breath.
“I am.”
“Not like you’re at gunpoint.”
“I am,” she muttered.
He smirked—just barely—and they walked the carpet like royalty.
Lina felt eyes on her everywhere. The whispers. The fake smiles. The silent judgments behind champagne flutes and glittering gowns.
Who is she?
Where did Wolfe find her?
Definitely not one of us.
The ballroom was dazzling—towering ceilings, crystal chandeliers, violins humming from a corner. Waiters floated past with trays of champagne and caviar. But all Lina saw were masks—beautiful people with teeth too white and eyes too empty.
“You alright?” Alexander asked quietly, his hand still at her back.
“I’m fine.”
He looked at her. “You’re about to be eaten alive by society’s finest liars. Stick to me.”
“Wasn’t planning on letting go.”
⸻
But sticking to him didn’t mean she was invisible.
They hadn’t been in the room for five minutes before a tall, icy woman in a navy silk gown slinked toward them with the grace of a trained predator.
“Alex,” she purred, air-kissing his cheek. “I almost thought you were a myth these days.”
Alexander’s expression cooled further. “Vanessa.”
Vanessa’s eyes slid to Lina, slow and assessing. “And this must be… your wife.”
Lina extended her hand politely. “Lina Wolfe.”
Vanessa didn’t take it. Instead, she smiled—wide and false. “So brave of you to wear gold. Risky color for someone still earning her place.”
Lina blinked.
Alexander cut in smoothly. “Vanessa used to date my brother. She’s still recovering.”
Vanessa laughed—a brittle, glassy sound. “Oh Alex, always so protective of your… investments.”
Lina felt the sting, but she held her ground. “Well, someone’s got to protect what others clearly regret losing.”
For the first time, Vanessa’s smile slipped. “Touché.”
She walked off with a tight twitch of her lips, and Alexander turned to Lina with a strange look in his eyes.
“That was bold,” he murmured.
“She was rude.”
“She’s always rude. You didn’t have to defend me.”
“I wasn’t defending you,” Lina said, reaching for a champagne flute. “I was defending myself.”
⸻
Later that night, Alexander made a short speech, elegant and strategic. Lina stood beside him, smiling on cue, saying little, her hand resting lightly on his arm.
But something changed.
Every time she looked at him, she saw not just the cold billionaire, but the control behind the charm. The loneliness hidden beneath perfectly tailored suits. The man who didn’t believe in love, yet offered her a home.
Not because he cared. But because he needed her.
And yet, when he glanced at her once during the applause—eyes briefly soft—something in her chest shifted.
Confused.
Hopeful.
Dangerous.
⸻
Back in the penthouse, the silence between them wasn’t tense—it was heavy.
Lina stepped out of her heels, letting them drop with a thud. Her feet ached. Her shoulders were sore. Her heart was tangled in things she wasn’t supposed to feel.
Alexander poured himself a drink, loosened his tie, and leaned against the window.
“You handled yourself well tonight.”
“Thanks.” She unpinned her earrings. “Vanessa’s delightful.”
“She’s a viper. You’re not the first she’s tried to shake.”
“Won’t be the last.”
A pause.
Then: “You’re learning.”
“Learning what?”
“That everything has layers. People. Words. Applause. Even marriages.”
Lina turned toward him, crossing her arms. “And which layer of ours are we in tonight?”
He met her eyes, quiet.
“I don’t know.”
Neither did she.
But something inside whispered: This was never just a contract.
Not anymore.
- Writer
