THE MASK STARTS TO SLIP
349 Words
The Mask Starts to Slip
Liana spent most of the night staring at the ceiling.
The bed was too soft. The silence too loud. She was used to sirens, a leaky faucet, her roommate’s bad late-night TV habits. Not this stillness. Not this palace full of locked doors and secrets.
And definitely not a man like Darius Blackwood sleeping down the hall.
When morning came, she dressed in jeans and a white blouse—casual, clean, safe. There was no guidebook for how to be a billionaire’s wife, fake or not.
Downstairs, she found him already at the breakfast table, reading the Financial Times, black coffee in hand.
He didn’t look up.
“Good morning,” she said cautiously.
He turned a page. “You have a fitting at eleven. My assistant will meet you.”
“For what?”
“The charity gala next weekend. You’ll be attending as my wife.”
“Of course,” she muttered, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Because fake marriages come with public appearances.”
His lips barely curved, the ghost of a smirk. “You’re quick.”
“Years of waitressing. I’ve mastered sarcasm.”
He finally looked at her—and something unreadable flickered in his expression. Not amusement. Not warmth. But not indifference, either.
“You’ll need to learn how to handle questions,” he said. “About us. How we met. What I like. What you like. People will notice if the chemistry isn’t believable.”
“Right,” she said. “So we fake chemistry.”
He didn’t answer, just sipped his coffee and stood. “My driver will take you to the fitting. I have meetings.”
“Of course you do.”
But before he left, he paused in the doorway.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, without looking at her, “you held your own last night.”
Liana blinked. It wasn’t a compliment. Not quite. But coming from Darius Blackwood, it felt like one.
And for reasons she didn’t understand, it stayed with her long after he was gone.
- Writer
