Chapter 8 – Dinner at the Kings
430 Words
(Celeste’s POV)
The car rolled up the long driveway, and Celeste let her gaze wander. King Manor was breathtaking, cold and precise in a way that made everything else feel small — marble floors that reflected the soft chandelier light, fountains that whispered quietly in the night, hedges trimmed to perfection. Everything about it radiated control and power.
Zach was already at the table when she entered, sitting rigidly, posture immaculate. No smile, no greeting — just those sharp, measuring eyes that always seemed to see more than anyone should.
His father sat at the head of the table, tall, still, and colder than she’d expected. Every movement, every glance, carried authority. Celeste could feel it pressing down on Zach, subtle but unmistakable.
“Miss Winslow,” his father said, voice flat, slicing through the quiet. “Your family has influence. I expect you to behave accordingly.”
“Of course, sir,” she said, keeping her tone calm.
Zach’s jaw tightened. He didn’t look at his father. He barely looked at her, but she caught the flicker — a hesitation in his posture, a softness in the set of his shoulders. She realized, in that moment, that his arrogance was more than just bravado. It was armor.
Dinner passed in silence, broken only by polite questions and the soft clink of cutlery. Celeste answered with precision, careful to reveal nothing more than necessary. But she couldn’t help noticing the small things: the way Zach’s fingers drummed lightly against the table when his father spoke, the quiet exhale he let out when Mr. King’s gaze moved elsewhere.
For a fleeting second, Zach looked almost… human. Vulnerable, weighed down by expectations he couldn’t escape. Celeste’s chest tightened. She hadn’t expected to feel anything for him — not like this.
When dessert arrived, his father finally excused himself, leaving them alone. Zach’s eyes softened, just a little, and he leaned back in his chair, voice low.
“Thanks for coming.”
Celeste blinked. “You’re welcome.”
“Don’t read too much into it,” he added with a smirk, trying to slip back into the familiar mask.
“I won’t,” she said.
Walking back through the marble hall, heels clicking on the floor, Celeste realized something she hadn’t before. Zach King wasn’t just the bad boy of Rosewood. He was complicated. Hard. Dangerous in ways most people couldn’t see. But beneath it all… there was something else. Something quiet. Something only she had glimpsed tonight.
And for the first time, pretending to be his girlfriend wasn’t just about protecting Beth
- Writer
