His Love, Her Sin

Damien’s shirt was half-open, and my hands were on his chest when everything froze. The music, the laughter, the glittering lights—everything fell silent. Guests turned to stare, confusion written on their faces. But before the awkwardness could settle too deeply, Damien’s mother raised her glass of wine and spoke with practiced grace. “I am pleased to announce,” she said with a warm smile, “that my son Damien is engaged to Elara.” Whispers erupted like wildfire among the guests. I stood there, stunned, trying to process what I’d just heard. "Your daughter is engaged? "And I didn’t know about this?" a man muttered from the corner, directing his words at my father. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” my father replied, chuckling nervously. “But they couldn’t help themselves.” A chorus of laughter followed. “The children of two industry giants getting married? "Now, that’s a celebration,” someone cheered. The room was glowing with luxury—chandeliers, champagne, soft classical music—but I felt like I was suffocating. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say a word, a hand gripped my wrist and pulled me into the nearest room. “What was that all about?” I hissed, heart pounding. “I was going to tell you soon,” my father said. “But I had no idea you were actually in a relationship with him.” “No, Dad,” I said, my voice shaking. “That was a misunderstanding.” “Misunderstanding or not, you’re getting married,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Then he turned and walked out. Left alone, I took a deep breath, smoothing down my dress and schooling my expression into a flawless smile. Fake, but necessary. When I returned to the party, I kept my chin high, walking with elegant poise. I smiled from the corner of my mouth, flashing just enough teeth to play the role. My eyes searched for Damien, hoping for a clue, a flicker of reaction. But, as always, his expression was unreadable. Cold. Did he know? Was this planned? Or was he just as trapped as I was?