His Contract Bride

Chapter 5 Dinner With the Board

Amara stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing herself. The emerald gown hugged her curves and shimmered under the chandelier lights. Her hair was curled to perfection, lips stained with the darkest red she had ever worn. The stylist had transformed her into someone who could stand beside Ethan Blake and not look out of place.

But the anxiety still curled in her stomach.

She stepped out of the room and found Ethan waiting by the stairs. He paused when he saw her.

"You clean up well," he said simply.

"Thanks," she replied, trying not to let her voice shake.

The board dinner was being held at an upscale hotel downtown. The ride there was tense, with Ethan going over names, alliances, and the company’s current position. Amara tried to memorize it all, though it sounded like another language.

When they arrived, flashes from photographers blinded her. Ethan gripped her hand tightly. "Smile. You’re Mrs. Blake now."

They walked in together, and all eyes turned to them.

The dinner was long. Full of handshakes, tight smiles, and champagne. Amara managed to play the part—laughing at jokes, nodding during business talk, and letting Ethan’s hand rest on her lower back like they were truly a couple.

During a brief moment alone, one of the board members leaned in toward her. "I must say, Mrs. Blake, you’re a pleasant surprise. We were expecting someone more... corporate."

Amara smiled politely. "I suppose surprises keep things interesting."

Ethan appeared at her side. "Is everything alright here?"

The man chuckled nervously. "Just complimenting your wife, Ethan. You have good taste."

"I know."

They left shortly after, the mask of perfection still in place. But as soon as they entered the car, Amara sighed loudly.

"How did I do?"

Ethan looked at her. "Better than I expected."

She chuckled. "Wow. High praise."

"Don’t get used to it."

Back at the mansion, she pulled off her heels and tossed them aside.

"I don’t know how you do this every day," she said.

"It’s not about comfort. It’s about control," he replied.

She turned to him. "And you always have to be the one in control?"

He smirked. "Would you rather be?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Maybe."

A beat of silence passed.

"Then we’ll see who controls who, Mrs. Blake."