Beneath A Billionaire's Cold Eyes

ChapterThree

Sydney's POV

Two weeks later

The sky sparkled, in addition to the grandeur of the night. It was the type of night I had always dreamed about. But tonight, I wasn't dreaming. I was here as Nicholas Zaffari's wife.

The Zaffari charity gala was one of the most talked-about events in the state.

With the number of Rolls-Royces and Bentleys outside, I was sure only the rich and powerful were here. It looked like a whole new world. The glittering lights and sparkly decor were a reminder that I was stepping into a danger zone, an unfamiliar territory, and one that could swallow me whole.

Tonight was the first time I would be seen publicly with Nicholas since our fake wedding, which happened a week ago. He had said it was time to introduce me to the real world, and the gala would be the perfect time.

We stood at the entrance of the very shiny party. My heart was thudding as I fought the urge to wipe my sweaty palm on the very expensive dress I was wearing.

He offered his elbows to me, and I slid well-manicured fingers into them. "You look beautiful," he complimented, and I blushed a deep red.

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and he leaned in. "Madame Soléne must have outdone herself with you."

I rolled my eyes at the mention of the dreadful madame. "Don't get me started on that, the woman was a pain up my arse," I whispered the last part in case people were lurking around. I didn't want anyone to think I was a street urchin. Though I was a street urchin, no one should find out, especially since I was supposedly married to a billionaire.

Nicholas' eyes twinkled with laughter, and I gave him a witty smile. "I'm so nervous. Everyone will know that I am a fraud."

He put a hand beneath my chin, so I looked up at his blue eyes, and my heart lurched forward. "I think you would do just fine."

His face was suddenly serious, his lips in a small pout, and I noticed the little lines around them.

"Are you ready?" Nicholas asked, his blue eyes focused on my face, studying it intently, and I nodded quickly.

I took a large gulp of air. "Yes, I am."

The moment we stepped into the large hall, I felt out of place. My fingers tightened around Nicholas's arm, but he didn't flinch. He carried himself with such grace and authority. Anyone looking would know that I didn't belong in this room, let alone on Nicholas's arm.

He was suddenly engrossed in a deep conversation with some men. I was forgotten, and my timidity almost made me bolt for the door.

You have to keep your head high, Sydney. I reprimanded myself.

My eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on them. Colton and Lily.

Lily was laughing at something Colton was whispering into her ear. It wasn't a surprise that they were here. Colton's parents were very rich, and he was the heir to a stockbrokering company. Lily, too, came from money; her parents owned a textile company.

I, too, had grown up in luxury, but tragedy struck. My dad lost everything he owned, and one day, he disappeared, leaving my mum and me alone to suffer in penury.

Lily's eyes landed on mine, and her smile dropped. She tapped Colton, and his eyes widened immediately when he saw me. His glass froze midair.

The pain returned sharply to my chest, but I refused to let it show. I lifted my eyes and stared down at them.

A slow smile appeared on Lily's face. I knew that smile. It was the type she gave when she had something mischievous up her sleeve. She approached me slowly, her wine glass in hand.

“Well, look who decided to climb out of the gutter.

She tilted her head, her fake blonde waves cascading over her shoulders. “Did someone mistake you for a waitress, Sydney?”

My stomach turned, but I didn’t flinch. This was my opportunity to show her that she couldn't toy with me and get away scot-free.

“No,” I said coolly, “but I’d be careful not to choke on that wine, Lily. Karma tends to serve itself.”

Jason stepped forward, brows furrowed. “Sydney… what the hell are you doing here?”

Before I could speak, Nicholas did.

“She’s here with me.”

He snuck a hand behind my waist and held me against his side, like a safety cocoon. I blinked up at him, surprised that he was standing up for me.

Colton frowned, "What does that mean?"

"It means," Nicholas answered, raising his voice slightly," that Sydney is my wife."

There was a sudden silence in the hall. Even the piano players had stopped their performance. All eyes turned toward us.

Lily gasped, one manicured hand over her mouth. Colton just stared at me like he’d been slapped.

Before I could completely process all that had happened, Nicholas leaned and captured my lips in a passionate kiss. I gasped into his mouth, and he took it as an opportunity to push his tongue into my mouth.

He cupped my cheeks, and I pressed deeper into his body. His warmth shielded me from the cold stares of the crème de la crème of society.

My breath caught in my throat when he pulled back, his lips pressed close to my ear.

“Play your role, sweetheart,” he whispered so only I could hear. “We’re just getting started,” and a shiver of desire coursed through my body.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. The people had quickly recovered from their shock and were now swimming toward us to offer their congratulations and ask the whens. Just the typical convo after a secret wedding. There were lots of 'isn't she too young for him' and 'she should be in college' as well as 'I'm very sure she's a gold digger' flying around.

Colton watched from a distance, jaw clenched, clearly trying to understand how the woman he had discarded ended up in the arms of New York’s most powerful man.

I prayed he choked on it.

Later that night, back in Nicholas’s penthouse, I stood barefoot in his marble kitchen, still wearing the expensive gown and drinking water like it was holy.

I had moved in with him a few days before our contract marriage. Though I had my own room, Nicholas had told me the marriage had to be as real as possible, at least to an outsider.

He walked in, the first two buttons of his shirt undone, looking relaxed.

"You did well tonight."

I turned slowly. “So did you," I said, thinking back to the kiss we had shared. He did more than good.

He leaned against the counter, eyes darker than usual, while he studied me quietly.

“You didn't ask why I did it?" I looked at him confused.

"The kiss," he clarified.

I felt blood rush to my cheeks, and I looked away. Focusing on the clear liquid in my glass.

“Does it matter?” I whispered barely audibly. I enjoyed the kiss a bit more than I should and wanted to leave it at that.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer.

Then he kissed me again.

Slower this time.

I responded before I could stop myself, wrapping my arms around his neck, letting him pull me into his world, his heat wrapping around me like a warm blanket.

His hands roamed my back, trailing over my skin and igniting fire in their wake.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless, I looked up at him, confused and a little dazed, afraid of what this meant. My heart was thudding, and my desire for him was buzzing in my skin. But I threw caution to the wind. It wasn't every day I got to sleep with the hottest and richest bachelor in New York.

That night, I didn’t sleep on the guest bed. We spent the night in the throes of passion.

And though I knew this was all pretend. I knew I was already falling for him, and I couldn't stop the speed it was going.