Fake Dating My Boyfriend's Rival For Christmas

[Day 1; December 20th, The Ophelia Cruise Ship] ~Octavia~ “Can’t you at least try to look like you belong here?” Nathan’s voice was a low hiss, but the condescension cut deep. His hand tightened around my arm, guiding me through the glittering crowd with the same sharp, exacting grip he used on junior associates during board meetings. Tonight marked the first night of the Winter Publishing Gala, a twelve-day extravaganza stretching through the holiday season. It was the biggest event of the year. The industry’s elite gathered for awards, networking, and million-dollar deals. To me, it was twelve days of walking on eggshells around Nathan. “I’m trying,” I murmured, forcing a smile even as his words settled like stones in my chest. Eight months together, and I still hadn’t mastered the impossible standard he expected. I still hadn’t erased the feeling that I was an outsider he had reluctantly let into his world. Nathan Sinclair was everything I wasn’t: polished, rich, and ruthless. Standing at six feet, with dark hair slicked into perfection. His navy suit was custom-tailored, his jaw clenched in restrained impatience. I knew that look well. “Stand up straighter,” he ordered, barely sparing me a glance as we stepped onto the main deck. The ballroom stretched before us, a winter wonderland of icy blues, silvers, and gold. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a golden glow, reflecting off champagne glasses and designer gowns. Frosted garlands and wreaths adorned every railing. It should have felt like stepping into a dream. Instead, my stomach twisted. I straightened my shoulders, trying to ignore the judgment in his gaze as he looked me over. My dress—a modest, midnight-blue cocktail dress that reached just below my knees—suddenly felt too plain, too cheap. Next to him, I felt like the poor girl I used to be, the one he’d plucked out of the editorial department at Empire House Publishing, polished up, and then reminded, every day, of my flaws. Nathan's gaze swept over me with thinly veiled dissatisfaction. “Can’t you be more… elegant, Octavia? Look at yourself. You’re not exactly blending in with the crowd here, are you?” I forced myself to nod, even as a painful knot formed in my throat. I couldn’t let him see how much his words hurt. Tonight was important to him, and I had to be the perfect girlfriend. The one everyone envied. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t the truth. My colleagues might envy me for dating the CEO, but they didn’t see the subtle put-downs, the way he chipped away at me piece by piece. “Smile,” he said, his own smile stretching wide as we approached a circle of industry elites. I obeyed, forcing a tight-lipped smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach my eyes. And then, I saw him. Dave Carter. Nathan’s greatest rival. Even among the glittering elite, he stood out. CEO of Vanguard Publishing, the self-made billionaire who dominated the industry. Dave was effortlessly handsome. Broad shoulders, chiseled jawline, tousled dark hair that looked accidentally perfect. His black Italian suit was understated yet unmistakably expensive. He was everything Nathan wished to be—but never would. Beside him stood Ava Gomez, his model girlfriend. She was pure elegance, with sun-kissed skin, sculpted cheekbones, and liquid black hair cascading over one shoulder. Her scarlet dress clung scandalously to her curves. I felt the jealousy creep in. She belonged here. She was made for this world, moving through it with effortless grace. Unlike me. Nathan’s grip on my arm tightened. His jaw twitched as he watched Dave glide through the room, Ava at his side. “Look at him,” Nathan muttered, his voice dripping with resentment. “Thinks he’s better than everyone else.” I said nothing. There was no point. Nathan had spent countless nights ranting about Dave. About how Vanguard Publishing outperformed Empire House. About the awards, the bestsellers, and the authors he should have landed. But his hatred was laced with something worse. Envy. Dave’s gaze flicked our way. Nathan straightened, forcing a strained smile. But Dave kept walking. His sharp blue eyes settled on Nathan for a heartbeat. Then, with barely a glance, he turned away. As if Nathan didn’t exist. Nathan’s face darkened. His fingers dug into my arm. “How dare he snub me?” he seethed, barely keeping his voice low. Before I could react, he yanked me away from the crowd, his grip bruising as he marched me toward the staterooms. His pace was brisk. Almost violent. When we reached the door of our suite, he flung it open and shoved me inside. I stumbled, catching myself against the wall as he ripped off his tie and poured himself a drink with shaking hands. “He’s no better than me,” Nathan spat. “He’s just lucky.” I stayed silent, watching him rant. “And you,” he sneered, turning toward me. My pulse stuttered. “Can’t you be more like Ava?” He gestured toward me with his glass, his eyes filled with disgust. “She’s classy. Beautiful. Perfect. Not… whatever this is.” I flinched. “You’re just so… local.” The words burned. But I wouldn’t let him see it. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. “Sorry,” I whispered, lowering my gaze. He scoffed. “Just… get out of my sight. I need a break from your pathetic attempts.” I didn’t hesitate. I slipped out of the suite, letting the door shut behind me. The hallway was quiet, save for the distant hum of holiday music from the ballroom. The cold December air from the deck hit my skin, but it did nothing to numb the ache in my chest. I told myself he would cool down. He always did. He would pass out from the whiskey, and by morning, he would act as if none of it had happened. I just needed to wait. After some hours of strolling around the decks, I turned back toward the staterooms, dreading it but knowing I had no choice. But then my eyes caught a glimpse of him. Dave Carter. He stepped out of a suite across the hall, his sharp blue eyes scanning the corridor. Up close, he was even more striking. He had the kind of presence that filled a space effortlessly, his confidence quiet but unshakable. When he saw me, he hesitated before moving closer. “Excuse me, miss,” he said, his voice smooth but tense. “Have you seen a woman around here? Tall, dark hair—” “Ava Gomez?”I blinked, cutting him off. He nodded, his jaw tightening. “She was a little drunk earlier. Said she needed to lie down. But she’s not in our room.” Something in his tone made my stomach clench but I forced a polite smile as I turned away. “Sorry, I haven’t seen her.” I reached for the door to my suite and opened it, and in an instant, everything shattered. Nathan and Ava lay tangled in the sheets, their bodies entwined, bare, shameless, completely drunk and asleep. My breath caught as the room spun, and behind me, Dave inhaled sharply before his voice cut through the air like thunder. “What the hell is this?”