The First Lie
577 Words
Leona stood in front of the full-length mirror in her new apartment, wearing a navy-blue sheath dress that hugged her like it had known her shape for years. She’d never worn anything so expensive before. The tag had said $3,200 before the assistant removed it. She’d nearly choked on her own breath.
Now, hours later, she was rehearsing her smile.
Her reflection blinked back with uncertainty.
Tonight was their first public appearance. A charity gala at the Mirabel Grand, hosted by one of Damian’s close associates. The press would be there. His investors. His enemies.
And she? A waitress in borrowed confidence.
The doorbell rang.
She exhaled, smoothed her palms over her hips, and opened it.
Damian stood there, sharp in a black tux. No tie. Just clean lines and lethal elegance. His gaze swept her once. No smile. No compliment.
Just, “You’ll do.”
Leona arched a brow. “You’re terrible at pep talks.”
He held out his arm. “I’m excellent at appearances. Let’s go.”
The car ride was silent. Tense. Leona stole glances at him. Damian Lawson was unreadable, but now that she was seated this close, she noticed things how he tapped his finger when he was lost in thought, how his jaw tightened every time his phone buzzed.
He hadn’t even looked at her since the door.
“Are you always this cold?” she asked finally.
“Only when I’m paying someone to pretend they like me.”
Ouch.
The gala was held in a crystal ballroom. Golden chandeliers sparkled like frozen stars. Music floated on expensive air. Women in silk gowns turned when Damian entered, men stiffened in acknowledgment. He owned every room he walked into.
Leona clutched his arm tighter than she meant to.
“Smile,” he murmured.
She did. And for the first time, it felt... natural.
The night spun by in a blur of handshakes and fake laughter. Leona remembered her script: how they met, how long they’d been together, how in love they were. Every answer had been memorized, and every detail rehearsed.
But when she caught a flash of red from the corner of the room, everything shifted.
A woman in a crimson dress approached. Tall. Ice-blonde. Eyes like a serpent.
“Damian,” she purred. “You never told me you were dating again.”
“Veronica,” he said flatly. “This is Leona.”
Veronica’s gaze traveled over Leona like a scanning device. “Cute. Where’d you find her?”
Leona forced a smile. “In the clearance bin. Right next to your personality.”
Damian choked. Just slightly.
Veronica blinked, stunned. Then laughed. “Well. This should be fun.”
She slithered away.
Leona turned to Damian, pulse racing. “Was that your ex?”
He nodded once.
“She’s charming.”
“She’s dangerous.”
“You like dangerous?”
“I like... effective.”
He looked at her differently then. For just a second. As if he hadn’t expected her to hold her own.
---
By midnight, they were back in the car.
“Thanks for not fainting,” he said.
“Thanks for not throwing me to the wolves.”
He glanced at her, almost amused. “You lied well tonight.”
She leaned her head back. “Get used to it.”
He didn’t say anything. But his silence wasn’t cold anymore.
It was curious.
And that was more dangerous than anything else.
- Writer
