Chapter 2: "The First Night"
712 Words
The Hale penthouse was on the 88th floor.
It had more windows than walls.
Aria stood in the middle of the living room with one duffel bag and felt poor.
Floor to ceiling glass. Marble floors. A piano no one played.
And silence. So much silence.
“Mrs. Hale.”
She turned.
A woman in a black suit stood there. The housekeeper, maybe.
“Your room is this way.” She gestured. “Mr. Hale’s room is down the other hall. You are not to enter.”
Aria nodded. “Got it.”
The room was bigger than her whole apartment. King bed. Walk-in closet already filled with dresses with tags still on.
On the bed: a note.
_Gala tonight. 8PM. Wear the red dress. - D_
No "please". No "see you there". Just orders.
---
At 7:55PM, a stylist was curling her hair.
At 8:00PM, the red dress was zipped up. Tight. Expensive.
At 8:01PM, Damian walked in.
He stopped.
Aria had seen him in a suit yesterday. This was different.
Tuxedo. Watch that cost more than a car. Hair perfect. And that look in his eyes...
He recovered fast. “You look acceptable.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
He held out his arm. “We have to go. My family will be there.”
The car ride was quiet.
“Rules for tonight,” Damian said, staring out the window. “Smile. Don’t talk to reporters. If anyone asks, we’ve been dating 6 months. Engaged last month.”
Aria fiddled with the necklace he’d sent up. “And if they ask why it was so fast?”
“Because I wanted you.” His voice was flat. “Say it like you mean it.”
The gala was at the Hale Tower. Crystal chandeliers. Champagne. People who owned companies.
The moment they stepped in, cameras flashed.
“Mr. Hale! Is this your new girlfriend?”
“Any wedding date yet?”
Damian’s hand found the small of Aria’s back. It burned through the dress.
“My fiancée,” he said, voice cutting through the noise. “Aria Hale.”
Mrs. Hale.
The name felt wrong in her mouth.
They made it 10 minutes before she saw her.
Blonde. Perfect. Draped all over another CEO.
Selena Vance. Damian’s ex. The one in all the tabloids with him last year.
Selena’s eyes landed on Aria. Then narrowed.
She walked straight over. “Damian.” She touched his arm. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing a plus one.”
Damian didn’t move his hand from Aria’s back. “Selena. This is my fiancée, Aria.”
Fiancée.
The word made Selena’s smile slip.
“Oh,” Selena purred. She looked Aria up and down. “The new secretary? Cute.”
Aria felt her face heat. “I’m not—”
“She’s not a secretary,” Damian cut in. Cold. Final.
He turned to Aria. His gray eyes were unreadable.
Then he did it.
He leaned down and kissed her.
Right there. In front of 200 people. Cameras flashing.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet.
It was possessive. Claiming.
His hand in her hair. His other arm around her waist.
Aria froze for one second. Then she kissed back. Because that’s what a fiancée would do.
When he pulled away, the room was quiet.
Damian brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Mine,” he murmured. Just loud enough for her to hear.
Selena’s face went red. She turned and walked away.
The whispers started immediately.
#HaleEngagement
#WhoIsAriaHale
In the car home, neither of them spoke.
Aria’s lips still tingled.
Her heart was racing for a reason that had nothing to do with acting.
They got to the penthouse.
Damian loosened his tie. “That was for show.”
“I know.”
“Don’t read into it.”
“I won’t.”
He walked to the other end of the hall. Stopped at his door.
Then he looked back at her.
For a second, she thought he was going to say something else.
He didn’t.
He just went inside and closed the door.
Aria stood in her giant room, in her giant dress, touching her lips.
One year.
Business only.
So why did it feel like she’d just been marked?
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- Writer
