THE FIRST PUBLIC LIE
847 Words
The charity gala was held at the Astoria Grand—a palace in disguise, wrapped in marble, crystal chandeliers, and the scent of wealth. Liana stepped out of the town car and immediately felt every camera turn toward her.
They weren’t here for her.
They were here for Darius Blackwood.
She stood tall anyway.
He appeared at her side like he’d been conjured—tall, immaculate in a tailored black tux, jaw clenched, presence commanding. The cameras clicked like gunfire.
Darius extended a hand. “Shall we?”
His fingers brushed hers—not possessive, not tender. Practiced.
Liana laced their fingers together and let him guide her up the steps, onto the red carpet, and into a world she didn’t belong in.
Inside, it was worse. Socialites, CEOs, legacy families with last names that carried weight. The women sparkled. The men smirked. Everyone smiled with their teeth.
Darius nodded at people she couldn’t name. She recognized a few faces from magazines—actors, politicians, one tech mogul who had once been voted “Most Likely to Start a Cult.”
And every single one of them looked at her like she was a puzzle that didn’t quite fit.
Liana leaned in toward Darius. “I feel like I’m wearing a costume.”
“You are,” he murmured back. “We both are.”
⸻
They played the part well.
He held her hand during introductions. Smiled when she laughed. Whispered comments in her ear that made her smile, even when they were dry observations like “That’s the fifth person tonight who’s tried to pitch me a blockchain startup.”
People loved it.
“You two are stunning together,” one woman gushed. “How did you meet?”
Darius answered smoothly. “At a friend’s party. She insulted my tie. I knew she was the one.”
Everyone laughed. Liana smiled through it, impressed and alarmed by how easily the lie came to him.
Later, when they were standing by the bar, she whispered, “Do you always lie like that?”
Darius took a sip of scotch. “Only when it’s useful.”
She arched an eyebrow. “So basically always.”
His lips curved slightly. “You’re adapting quickly.”
“I’m a waitress,” she said. “You learn how to lie with your face if you want tips.”
He glanced at her then—longer than usual. There was something like… approval? Respect? It was gone before she could name it.
Then someone new approached. A man in his early forties. Clean-shaven. Blue suit. The kind of confidence that came from old money.
“Darius,” the man said with a nod. “And this must be your mystery bride.”
Liana offered her hand. “Liana.”
“Trevor Langston,” the man said, shaking it. “We went to boarding school together. I never thought I’d see the day Darius Blackwood settled down.”
“Neither did I,” Darius said dryly.
Trevor’s smile turned sharp. “Funny how quickly things change. Especially when board votes are involved, right?”
Liana stiffened. She glanced at Darius, but his expression didn’t change.
“I didn’t marry her for business,” he said evenly.
“Of course not.” Trevor’s grin widened. “Still, it’s convenient.”
He turned back to Liana. “Well, if you ever get bored of corporate armor and cold dinners, I know a few places that serve actual conversation.”
Darius’s arm moved—casual, but firm—slipping around Liana’s waist.
“She’s not bored,” he said. “And she’s not available.”
Trevor raised both hands in mock surrender. “Just making conversation.”
When he walked away, Liana let out a breath. “Wow. Charming guy.”
“Langston is a vulture,” Darius muttered. “He’s been circling my company for years.”
“Is that why you brought me here? To prove something to men like him?”
Darius met her gaze. “I brought you here because I needed a wife. Not a mannequin.”
Liana’s brows rose. “Was that… a compliment?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
⸻
Later that night, after hours of pretending to be something she wasn’t, Liana peeled off her gown and sat in the oversized marble bathtub in the guest wing. Hot water. Silence. No cameras. No contracts.
But the echo of Darius’s hand on her back, the warmth of it when he touched her at the gala, stayed with her.
He didn’t want connection. Didn’t trust emotion. Made that perfectly clear.
So why had his grip on her waist felt like protection?
Why had he said, She’s not bored. She’s not available like it meant something?
Liana closed her eyes and leaned back in the water, her head resting on the edge of the tub.
She was getting too good at pretending.
And the more she learned about Darius Blackwood, the more dangerous it felt to wonder who he was when no one was watching.
- Writer
