Desired by you

CHAPTER 4: THE GRAND ENGAGEMENT PARTY

Jaxon’s POV

The ballroom is a f*****g spectacle. I’m talking crystal chandeliers so big they could crush a small car, golden filigree accents everywhere, and walls lined with mirrors reflecting every movement, every fake smile. Classical music is playing softly in the background, but all I can hear are the whispers of the vultures circling around us—reporters, business tycoons, socialites. They’re all here to witness the merger of the century—the engagement of Jaxon Wolfe, billionaire heir, and Celeste Laurent, business magnate and heir to Laurent Enterprises.

I stand at the edge of the room, leaning against a marble column, swirling my champagne in my glass. The irony isn’t lost on me—the people here, the smiles, the endless congratulations—it’s all just a f*****g show. And we’re the stars of it.

I’m pretending to give a s**t, but really, I’m counting down the seconds until this charade is over.

And then I see her.

Celeste Laurent.

She’s standing near the grand staircase, looking like she stepped straight out of a magazine cover. Red dress, tight in all the right places, the kind of dress that could make a grown man drop to his knees if she just batted those lashes. Her dark hair flows in waves down her back, and when she turns her head, those lips of hers curl into that perfect smirk—the one that’s both a challenge and an invitation.

I can’t help but smirk back.

She doesn’t see me at first, too busy dazzling the room with her icy beauty. But as soon as her eyes find me, that familiar tension fills the space between us. It’s the same tension that’s been there since the first time we met. The kind that crackles in the air, thick and heavy, as if the universe itself is waiting for us to snap.

I push off from the column and make my way toward her, every step deliberate, slow.

When I reach her, I lean in close, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off her body, and my voice drops low, dripping with mock sweetness.

“Ah, there’s my lovely fiancée,” I drawl, taking in the way her chest rises and falls with every breath.

She turns, her smile that trademark Celeste smirk. “Jaxon. Darling,” she says with just the right amount of sarcasm.

My grin widens. "Try not to look so thrilled."

She lifts her champagne glass with a lazy flick of her wrist, her lips curving up in an exaggeratedly sweet smile. “Oh, I’m ecstatic. Can’t you tell?”

I lean in, just enough for her to feel the brush of my lips against her ear, my breath warm on her skin. "You should be. After all, you get to be my wife."

The words should sting her, but I know them for what they are—just a reminder of the game we’re playing.

Her lips twitch with a hint of a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Then, she digs her nails into my wrist—just enough to make me feel it, but not enough to hurt. “Keep dreaming, Wolfe.”

I can’t help but laugh, the sound rich with amusement. It’s a sound that doesn’t belong in this glittering, polished room full of champagne and fake smiles. But it’s mine, and I wear it like a badge of honor.

The tension between us is thick, crackling like static electricity. It's always been like this. She can’t stand me, but she can’t seem to stay away. And I f*****g thrive on it.

But as the conversation goes on, I can't help but notice the way her body shifts slightly when I move closer. How her breath catches just a little when our fingers brush.

There’s a spark in the air.

I’ll f*****g take it.

Before I can say anything else, someone taps a glass. The sound rings out across the room, and a voice calls, “Speech! Kiss your fiancée!”

I glance down at her, my fingers still wrapped around the stem of my glass, and I can feel her stiffen beside me, the tension in her posture so obvious even the vultures notice.

Her eyes narrow at me. "No. Absolutely not."

I smirk, fully aware that the cameras are all on us now. “Why, princess? Afraid you’ll like it?”

Her jaw clenches, and she turns toward me, her lips curling into a dangerous smile. “I’d rather kiss a—"

I don’t let her finish.

Before she can say anything else, I grab her by the jaw, tilting her face up toward mine.

And then I kiss her.

It should be quick, just for the cameras. A shallow, public kiss. Something for the papers, the tabloids, the cameras. But as soon as our lips meet, something shifts between us.

Her breath hitches, and I take full advantage of it. I pull her closer, my hand sliding to the small of her back, pressing her body against mine. Her softness melts into me, and for one goddamn second, it’s not a game.

She tastes like wine—rich, and fire, the kind that burns slow and dangerous.

The second my tongue meets hers, I feel her body respond—her hands gripping my shirt, her nails scratching at the fabric like she’s desperate for something.

Fuck.

For that split second, I forget this is all a show. Forget the cameras, the contracts, the deals that are supposed to bind us.

But then—just as quickly as it began—she pulls back, her chest rising and falling, her eyes wide with something that looks dangerously close to desire.

The room erupts in applause, but Celeste?

She looks f*****g shaken. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and her gaze is locked on mine, burning with something I can't quite place.

I swipe my thumb across my mouth, a smirk spreading across my face. “Good girl.”

Her eyes snap to mine, blazing. “I hate you.”

I lean in, my voice dropping into a whisper, just loud enough for her to hear. “Relax, princess. If you wanted more, all you had to do was ask.”

Celeste's retort, "If that’s the best you’ve got, I see why your last girlfriend ran,”

I chuckle, low and deep, like she didn’t just land a hit. Like her words didn’t scrape right down my spine.

“Harsh, princess,” I murmur, stepping even closer, invading her space. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking about me.”

Her lips press together, but I catch it—that tiny flicker in her gaze. She’s fighting this. Fighting me.

And losing.

She glares at me, but I see the way her pulse quickens, the way her breathing grows heavier.

The spark is there, between us.

And I’ll f*****g fan it into flames.

As the applause dies down, I feel her start to pull away from me, but I don’t let her.

I’m not done with her yet.

The night continues in a haze of champagne and laughter, but it’s all just noise. The real game is between us.

As we move from the ballroom to the private terrace, I keep my eyes on Celeste. She’s talking to a group of investors, her smile bright but her eyes distant. She’s playing her role, just like I am.

But I can see through her.

I always have.

I’m about to step forward when her assistant, Lila, steps into the room, her face tight with tension. “Celeste,” she says, her voice urgent. “We need to go. Now.”

Celeste glances at her, and for a moment, I see the crack in her cool exterior. She’s rattled, and I know exactly why.

It’s not the engagement party. It’s me.

I lean in, my voice low. “Leaving already, princess?”

Her eyes meet mine, and there’s something sharp in her gaze. “Not yet. But soon.”

“Good,” I say, my grin widening. “I’ll be waiting.”

The game is just getting started. And I’m ready for every single round.

END OF CHAPTER 4