Chapter 5
692 Words
Lipstick and Lies
Leona hated mirrors, especially when someone else was holding the brush.
“Sit still,” the makeup artist said, dabbing a bit of shimmer near Leona’s cheekbone. “You’re about to be broadcasted to half the city. Can’t have you looking like you’re being held hostage.”
“I am being held hostage,” Leona muttered.
“Smile and no one will notice.”
They were in the green room of Good Morning Manhattan, prepping for the couple’s “first exclusive sit-down.” The show would paint them as New York’s most unexpected love story—an overworked clinic director from Queens and the infamously untouchable Elias Thorne, billionaire, legacy, bachelor no more.
A lie. A good one.
And lies needed makeup too.
Elias stepped in, already camera-ready in his custom navy suit. He barely looked at Leona before pouring himself a black coffee and downing half of it in silence.
“You look…” he started, eyes scanning her slowly. “Like a woman about to throw a chair.”
She rolled her eyes. “Say ‘beautiful,’ Elias. It’s not that hard.”
“You look beautiful,” he said flatly. “And mildly terrifying. Just the right balance.”
The producer knocked. “Three minutes. You’re on after weather and a dog rescue segment.”
Leona stood. “Great. Follow the puppies—try not to disappoint.”
The stage lights were blinding. Cameras, hotter than expected. And the host—some overly cheerful blonde named Savannah—smiled at them like they were actual royalty.
“We are so thrilled to have New York’s hottest couple with us this morning,” Savannah gushed. “Leona, Elias—what a whirlwind romance, huh?”
Leona’s hand was laced in Elias’. It wasn’t her idea. His palm was steady, warm, a little too familiar. And she hated how grounding it felt.
“It’s been fast,” Elias said with a charming grin. “But when you know, you know.”
Ugh.
Savannah turned to Leona. “And you—a total mystery. You’ve never been photographed with him before. In fact, the first public image was your engagement night. How did you two meet?”
Leona smiled. Sweet. Deadly.
“At a benefit gala,” she said. “He mistook me for a server.”
Savannah gasped. “No!”
“Oh yes,” Leona continued. “Then he offered to buy me a drink I was already holding, and tried to impress me with a very boring monologue about investment portfolios.”
Elias cleared his throat. “I was being charming.”
“You were being insufferable.”
The audience laughed. Savannah looked delighted. “Well, clearly it worked!”
Leona turned, looked at him. Really looked. And something in her chest fluttered—dangerous, inconvenient.
He squeezed her hand, gently.
For the camera.
Definitely for the camera.
Backstage, they barely made it behind the curtain before Leona pulled away.
“You’re good at that,” she said, straightening her dress. “Playing the golden fiancé.”
“And you’re good at the banter. Could’ve fooled even me.”
She didn’t like the way he said that.
“You almost sound like you wanted to be fooled.”
“I didn’t say that,” Elias replied. “But maybe I wouldn’t mind forgetting this isn’t real.”
That stopped her cold.
She didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
Because the truth was—just for a second, under those lights, holding his hand—she forgot too.
Her phone buzzed.
MARGO:
Leona. You need to see this. Now.
A link followed. Leona clicked it, heart already pounding.
The headline nearly knocked the wind out of her.
LEONA VALE’S CLINIC UNDER INVESTIGATION: MISSING FUNDS, FALSE RECORDS, AND WHISTLEBLOWERS
Below that, a picture of her standing in front of the clinic. Grim. Alone.
She didn’t speak. Couldn’t.
Elias looked over her shoulder.
And for the first time, he didn’t smirk.
He didn’t joke.
He just said, quietly, “Whoever’s coming for you… they’re not pulling punches.”
Her fingers curled into fists. “Then neither will I.”
- Writer
