RED CARPET. WHITE LIES
261 Words
The gala is like every other billionaire soirée I’ve faked my way through: champagne fountains, cold smiles, and enough backstabbing to power Wall Street.
But tonight, Cassian’s grip on my waist is tighter. His smile, colder. And every photo snapped feels like a flashbulb aimed at a ticking bomb.
“You look radiant, Ms. Carter,” the senator says, shaking my hand.
I smile on cue. “Thank you. It’s Ariella, actually.”
Cassian squeezes my side—a silent warning. Stay in character.
But I’m not a doll on display tonight.
I’m the woman who knows his biggest secret.
Across the ballroom, a blonde in a red dress is watching us. Beautiful. Dangerous. And very, very familiar.
“Who’s that?” I ask, sipping champagne.
He doesn’t answer.
“Cassian.”
He turns. Sees her.
And every muscle in his body tightens like a wire about to snap.
“Vivienne Rowe,” he mutters. “She’s... someone I used to trust.”
Vivienne walks up to us like she owns the air we breathe. “Cassian. Still keeping your fiancée on a leash, I see.”
I bristle. He doesn’t respond.
She turns to me. “You’re the reporter, right? The one who nearly ended his empire?”
I blink. “You know who I am?”
“Oh, darling,” she purrs. “Everyone in this room knows. We’re just waiting to see how long you last.”
She walks away.
Cassian exhales sharply.
“She’s bluffing,” I whisper. “Right?”
But he doesn’t say a word.
- Writer
