THE KING'S MUSE

An unexpected delivery

The Next Morning Lancaster Enterprises

Lily adjusted her fitted white blouse and navy pencil skirt as she stepped into Lancaster Enterprises. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, exuding confidence, but internally, she was still reeling from last night’s engagement dinner and the letter Christian had given her.

She was about to become his wife.

Not just that, but she was now balancing two demanding roles: his assistant and a rising model under Lancaster Entertainment.

Emma had practically tackled her this morning, buzzing about their new living arrangements. Lancaster Entertainment had given them a fully furnished apartment, far more spacious than their cramped studio.

It was overwhelming but also a massive upgrade from the struggles they’d faced before.

She took a deep breath as she walked into her office, just outside Christian’s. Her desk was sleek, minimalistic, and pristine exactly how she imagined Christian liked things.

Professional. Perfect. No room for mistakes.

Before she could even sit, the intercom on her desk buzzed.

“Lily, in my office. Now.”

Christian’s deep voice filled the space, sending a shiver down her spine.

The Meeting with Christian

Lily walked into Christian’s office, finding him behind his massive desk, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit. His sharp blue eyes lifted to her the moment she stepped inside.

“Sit,” he instructed.

She complied, crossing her legs. “Good morning to you too.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he handed her a document.

She glanced down. Marriage Contract.

Lily’s stomach tightened, but she forced herself to remain composed.

“You’ll sign this after reviewing it,” Christian said, watching her carefully. “Everything is straightforward. Our marriage remains private. To the public, you’re my assistant and a Lancaster model. You’ll continue working in both capacities.”

Lily nodded, flipping through the pages. “And where will I be staying?”

Christian leaned back in his chair. “With me.”

Lily’s head snapped up. “What?”

Christian’s expression was unreadable. “You’re going to be my wife, Lily. Even if it’s not a public marriage, you’ll still live with me. It makes things easier.”

She swallowed. “I”

“I’ve already arranged everything. Emma will be moving into a new apartment under Lancaster Entertainment. It’s fully furnished, secure, and close to the company.”

Lily blinked. “You… already made arrangements?”

Christian’s gaze didn’t waver. “I like things done efficiently.”

Lily exhaled. “So, just like that, my whole life changes?”

Christian tilted his head. “You agreed to this.”

She had no argument for that.

After a moment, she nodded. “Fine. When do I move in?”

Christian’s lips curled slightly. Tonight

Lily took a deep breath, steadying her nerves as she prepared to step onto the runway. The bright overhead lights illuminated the grand stage, casting a soft glow over the polished floor.

The champagne-colored gown she wore clung to her in all the right places, flowing down in delicate folds that accentuated her every movement.

This was it. Another opportunity to prove herself, another chance to remind everyone that she wasn’t just Christian Lancaster’s assistant she was a model, and a damn good one.

She took her first step, her heels clicking against the runway as she moved with effortless grace. The murmurs from the audience barely registered in her mind, but she could still hear them.

"Isn't that Christian Lancaster’s assistant?”

"I heard she got this spot because of him."

"Well, she better prove she deserves it.”

Lily clenched her jaw, forcing herself to focus. She had earned this. No one handed it to her.

Step. Step. Step.

Her strides were calculated, her expression poised. She kept her chin lifted, her gaze straight ahead. Every movement was deliberate, each sway of her hips meant to captivate.

Then it happened.

CRACK!

A sharp snap echoed through the room.

Lily barely had time to register what had happened before her ankle twisted. The world tilted. Her balance wavered.

Panic surged in her chest as she braced herself for the inevitable fall

Only to be caught.

Strong arms wrapped around her, steady, firm. The scent of expensive cologne filled her senses warm, woodsy, with a hint of something darker.

Her breath hitched.

Christian.

She was pressed against his chest, her fingers gripping the smooth fabric of his charcoal suit. The murmurs in the room grew louder, but all she could focus on was the man holding her.

He was close. Too close.

She tilted her head up, meeting his piercing blue gaze. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes something intense, like he was assessing her.

His lips twitched slightly. "Always making an entrance, aren’t you?"

Lily's cheeks burned. "I what are you doing here?"

Christian arched a brow, his arms still secure around her. "Checking on my investment."

She frowned. "Investment?"

He smirked. "You. My model. My assistant. My responsibility." His eyes flickered down to her broken heel. "Unless falling is part of your new routine."

Lily’s embarrassment quickly turned into irritation. She straightened, pushing lightly against his chest to put some space between them. He didn’t let go right away. Instead, his grip lingered just a second longer than necessary before he finally released her.

Just then, a sharp giggle echoed from the side of the stage.

Lily turned her head and there she was.

Camille.

Her stepsister stood near the curtains, arms crossed, her expression smug and satisfied. Beside her, Marco, the agency’s casting manager, whispered something under his breath, his lips curling into a knowing smirk.

Lily’s stomach twisted.

They did this.

The realization was instant.

The heel wasn’t just a coincidence. It had been tampered with.

Lily clenched her fists, but before she could take a step, Christian’s voice stopped her.

“You’re hurt,” he said, his tone quieter now.

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

Christian's gaze darkened slightly, like he didn’t believe her. “Right. Because almost face-planting in front of half the industry is totally fine.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t almost face-plant.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Lily exhaled sharply, barely resisting the urge to argue further. She didn’t need this right now. Not in front of Camille, not in front of Marco, and definitely not in front of a room full of people who already doubted her.

She took a careful step back, testing her weight on her ankle. It was slightly sore, but she could walk.

Christian, however, didn’t move.

Instead, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Be careful who you let get close, Lily.”

Her breath caught.

It wasn’t just a warning. It was a statement.

She glanced at Camille and Marco again. They were still watching, still whispering.

Lily lifted her chin. “I can handle myself.”

Christian studied her for a moment, then nodded slightly. "We'll see about that."

And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there with her heart pounding, her mind racing frustrated, flustered, and far more affected than she wanted to admit.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Lily sighed as she stepped into the dressing room, rolling the tension out of her shoulders. The fashion show had gone better than expected, despite the unfortunate mishap with her heel. Her ankle was still slightly sore, but she refused to let it slow her down. She was a model setbacks like this were part of the industry.

Emma was already waiting inside, sorting through Lily’s skincare essentials. “Okay, babe, let’s get that makeup off before your skin starts screaming at you.”

Lily chuckled, plopping down onto the stool in front of the vanity mirror. “You sound more dramatic than usual today.”

Emma gave her a mock glare. “And you look more exhausted than usual. Let’s fix that.”

She handed Lily a freshly dampened towel, folded neatly for her to wipe her face. Without hesitation, Lily reached for it, but before she could press it against her skin

A firm hand grabbed her wrist.

Lily’s head snapped up, startled.

Christian.

He stood behind her, his grip gentle but unwavering, his blue eyes locked onto the towel in her hand. His gaze flickered, sharp and assessing, before shifting toward Camille, who was standing by the opposite side of the room with a satisfied smirk.

Lily frowned. “Boss, what are you”

Before she could finish, he took the towel from her, his movements swift and controlled. Without breaking eye contact, he walked straight toward Camille.

Her smirk faltered.

“Since you’re so helpful, Camille,” Christian said smoothly, his voice laced with something unreadable, “I assume you wouldn’t mind using this yourself.”

Camille stiffened. “What?”

Christian held out the towel to her. “Go on.”

For the first time, Camille looked uncertain.

Lily’s stomach twisted. Something wasn’t right.

“I” Camille hesitated, glancing at Marco, who stood a few steps behind her. Marco shifted uncomfortably, but he didn’t say anything.

Christian didn’t move. He simply raised a brow, his expression unreadable. “You don’t want to? That’s strange. You were so eager to give Lily this towel a moment ago.”

Camille’s fingers curled into fists. “I don’t see why this is necessary.”

Christian smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Then I’ll make it easier.”

Before Camille could react, he reached forward and, with precise control, swiped the towel across the side of her cheek.

A sharp gasp filled the room.

Camille recoiled instantly, her eyes wide with horror. Within seconds, red blotches began to form on her flawless skin. She let out a strangled yelp, frantically touching her face.

“My skin!” she shrieked. “What did you do?!”

Christian remained completely calm. “That’s an interesting question. Maybe you should ask yourself that.”

Camille turned to Marco in desperation, but he was already taking a step back, clearly wanting no part in this.

Meanwhile, Lily was still frozen in shock.

She hadn’t even realized it, but Christian had just saved her.

He knew.

He must have noticed something was off with the towel, and instead of confronting Camille outright, he had turned her own plan against her.

Lily swallowed hard, unsure how to feel about this.

Christian finally turned to her, his voice softer now. “I suggest you be more careful, Lily.”

His gaze lingered for a moment before he turned and walked out of the dressing room, leaving Camille in full panic mode and Lily completely speechless.

Emma finally broke the silence.

“Okay,” she whispered, eyes wide, “That was hot.”

Lily wasn’t sure whether to laugh or completely lose her mind.

By evening, Lily found herself standing outside Christian’s penthouse with her suitcase.

The driver had taken Emma to her new apartment first, and her best friend had practically screamed when she saw how luxurious it was.

Now, it was Lily’s turn to adjust.

The penthouse was massive floor-to-ceiling windows, a breathtaking view of the city, sleek modern furniture, and an open-plan design that made it feel even more spacious.

Christian was already inside, sipping a glass of whiskey as he watched her.

“Welcome home,” he said smoothly.

Lily exhaled, setting her suitcase down. “This is… a lot.”

Christian smirked. “You’ll get used to it.”

She glanced at him. “So, we’re just going to pretend this is normal?”

Christian took a slow sip of his drink. “It will be.”

Lily crossed her arms. “And what are the rules of this arrangement?”

Christian raised a brow. “Rules?”

“You know,” she said, tilting her head. “Do I have to check in with you before going out? Do we eat dinner together? Will there be an official married couple routine?”

Christian chuckled. “You’re my wife, not my prisoner.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Good to know.”

She moved past him, heading toward what she assumed was her room.

“Oh, and Lily?”

She stopped, glancing back.

Christian smirked. “Don’t get too comfortable. You never know when things will change.”