Chapter 10: A Picture That Looked Almost Real
1115 Words
“Reason.”
Lucian’s voice was calm, but Maren recognized the tone.
He had not agreed.
He had merely permitted her to continue arguing.
She lowered her phone and adopted the most serious expression she could manage.
“Your grandmother knows you too well.”
Lucian waited.
“If we spend the entire evening clinging to each other, she’ll know we’re performing. You don’t look affectionate on command.”
“I am not affectionate.”
“Exactly.”
Arthur stood a few feet away, wisely pretending to review the household schedule.
Maren continued, “Grandmothers notice details. Not dramatic displays. If she happens to see the same photograph on both our phones, it will look private. Unplanned.”
“Although it is planned,” Lucian said.
“That is why it is an excellent plan.”
His gaze remained unreadable.
Maren stepped closer, still careful not to touch him.
“We are not trying to convince the entire world that we’re passionately in love. We only need Helena to believe this marriage is not making either of us miserable.”
Arthur finally spoke.
“Mrs. Ravenscroft has a point. Your grandmother would distrust anything that appeared rehearsed.”
Lucian looked at him.
Arthur lowered his eyes to the tablet again.
Maren lifted one finger.
“Low cost. Minimal effort. High emotional return.”
“You are describing a photograph as a business proposal.”
“It is a marriage-management strategy.”
“We are not an affectionate couple.”
“That is exactly why we need details instead of a performance.”
Silence stretched between them.
Lucian studied her as if searching for another motive.
There was none.
Maren did not want an excuse to stand close to him. She wanted to survive an evening under the inspection of a woman who had personally arranged their marriage.
At last, Lucian said, “Fine.”
Maren immediately moved to his side.
“Before you change your mind.”
“I do not change my mind that quickly.”
“Excellent. Then smile.”
“No.”
She raised the phone and took the picture anyway.
The result appeared on the screen.
Maren examined it.
Lucian stood beside her with the expression of a man signing the final paperwork for a hostile acquisition. She looked overly cheerful by comparison.
She turned the phone toward him.
“We look like we just completed a hostile merger.”
“The photograph is clear.”
“That was not the problem.”
“It records both of us.”
“So would security footage.”
Arthur made a suspicious sound that might have been a cough.
Maren deleted the picture.
“Again.”
Lucian’s expression suggested that his agreement had not included multiple attempts.
She moved half a step closer.
Their shoulders almost touched.
Maren lifted the phone, tilted her face toward the light, and smiled naturally.
The camera clicked.
This time, the result was different.
Maren stood slightly in front of Lucian, her eyes bright and her smile unguarded. He remained serious behind her, but the angle softened the severity of his features.
They did not look passionately in love.
They looked familiar.
Like two people who had become accustomed to sharing the same space.
Maren nodded with satisfaction.
“See? We look almost believable.”
Lucian’s gaze rested on the image.
For a second, he said nothing.
His attention lingered not on the composition, but on Maren’s face.
She looked happy.
Not politely pleased. Not carefully grateful.
Happy.
“It works,” he said.
Maren grinned. “That is the closest thing to enthusiasm I’m going to get, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
She set the photograph as her lock screen, then held out her hand.
“Your phone.”
Lucian looked at her palm.
“You intend to alter my device?”
“I intend to complete the mission.”
He handed it over.
His previous background was a nearly black photograph of a city skyline at night. Maren replaced it with their picture.
The change was immediate.
Her smile now occupied the center of his cold, orderly screen.
It looked almost invasive.
Maren gave the phone back.
“Do not change it before tonight.”
“Do you intend to inspect my phone?”
“Only if your grandmother asks me to verify your commitment to the mission.”
Lucian slipped the device into his pocket.
“She will not.”
Maren smiled.
“You underestimate grandmothers.”
Before leaving the sitting room, she checked her own phone.
A new message waited from Chloe.
I found the former house supervisor. Call me.
Maren’s smile faded.
She stepped away from Lucian and Arthur before returning the call.
Chloe answered immediately.
“I’ve been looking into the necklace incident since before you finally asked for proof,” she said. “So don’t get mad that I moved first.”
Maren stopped beside the window.
“Chloe.”
“Later. I have good news and alarming news.”
“Start with the useful one.”
“The woman who handled domestic records at your parents’ house remembers the necklace incident.”
Maren lowered her voice.
“And?”
“Elise asked for one section of security footage to be deleted.”
Maren went still.
“She admitted that?”
“Not exactly. She told the supervisor the camera had captured something private and that the family wanted it removed. The supervisor thought the request was suspicious.”
“So she kept a copy.”
“Yes.”
Maren closed her eyes briefly.
The missing piece had existed all along.
“Can she send it?”
“She already did. I forwarded the encrypted file to you.”
Maren opened the message attachment.
The preview showed a timestamp and a camera number from Skyline House.
“Is it complete?”
“According to her, yes. She kept the original system export because she was afraid she would be blamed later. The metadata is intact.”
“Why did she leave?”
“Elise accused her of disloyalty a few weeks later. She resigned before they could fire her.”
Maren looked toward Lucian.
He was speaking quietly with Arthur, unaware of the conversation.
“Thank her for me.”
“She wants no direct involvement unless lawyers become necessary.”
“That is fair.”
“Maren, what are you going to do with it?”
“Nothing tonight.”
Chloe was silent.
Maren continued, “Helena’s birthday is not the place for a family scandal.”
“And if Elise starts one?”
Maren saved the file to her secure cloud account.
“Then I finish it.”
- Writer
