Married To My Fiance's Enemy

Chapter 6: The Gala

"Head up, Lila."

The command was a razor-thin whisper against her ear, sharp enough to draw blood. Adrian didn’t look at her; his silver eyes were fixed on the glass-and-steel expanse of the Al-Hamad estate as their armored limousine glided to a halt.

The moment the door hissed open, a wall of white light hit them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sterling! Over here!"

"Adrian, a word on the merger?"

"Lila, who are you wearing tonight?"

The paparazzi were in a frenzy, their shutters clicking like a thousand insects. Adrian swept a proprietary arm around her waist, his touch heavy and certain. "They aren't looking at a scandal," he murmured, his breath a dangerous heat against her skin as they stepped onto the red carpet. "They’re looking at the woman who just shifted the power balance of this coast. Own it."

The oxygen in the room seemed to migrate toward them the moment they crossed the threshold. When Adrian Sterling entered a space, he didn't just walk; he occupied it with a predatory grace that made every other man look like a placeholder. But tonight, he wasn’t the only focal point. Attached to his arm, looking like a deity carved from diamonds, was Lila.

The stakes were lethal. The Al-Hamad conglomerate held the keys to the Mediterranean trade routes, a deal that would catapult Sterling Industries into a global monopoly. But the Al-Hamad family operated on iron-clad principles: they only did business with "men of family and stability." The Sterling board had been blunt. Adrian was too much of a rogue. To secure his position as Chairman, he needed a wife who looked like an obsession and Lila fits the description he needs.

They were immediately swarmed. Elegant heiresses, female CEOs in sharp power suits, and daughters of senators descended on Adrian, their perfumes clashing in a cloud of expensive floral notes.

"Adrian, it’s been far too long," a stunning blonde heiress cooed, leaning in to brush a lingering side-peck against his cheek.

Lila felt a sharp, unexpected prick of jealousy. She watched as these women, who moved through this world with effortless grace, touched his arm and shared whispered inside jokes. She felt like a fraud in a borrowed skin, until the men began to surround her.

"Sterling, you’ve been hiding a masterpiece," a French oil tycoon chuckled, bowing over Lila’s hand with eyes that lingered far too long on her collarbone.

"The most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a decade," another added, his voice thick with admiration that made Lila’s cheeks flush a deep, soft pink.

Across the room, Arthur and Eleanor Vance were preening like peacocks. Eleanor leaned into a circle of ambassadors, her voice carrying with practiced elegance. "Yes, my Lila has always had such a... refined presence. We knew only a man like Adrian could truly match her."

They drifted toward the Sterlings, Eleanor beaming as she reached for Lila’s hand. "Darling, you look divine. Truly, the spotlight suits you."

Linda stood behind them, a pale mask of suppressed rage, her fingers digging into her clutch. She leaned in, her voice a poisonous hiss intended only for her mother. "Control yourself, Mother. You’re acting like she’s the one who saved the family, and not the girl who nearly ruined it. She’s a puppet in a midnight dress, and you're falling for the act."

The pleasantries were cut short as Senator Rawlins stepped into their path. His gaze traveled lecherously down the plunging neckline of Lila’s gown, lingering on her curves with a disgusting, visible hunger.

"Sterling," Rawlins drawled. "I didn't realize you were a collector of such... exquisite art. This must be the runaway bride everyone is losing their minds over."

Adrian’s expression didn't change, but the air turned arctic. He adjusted his cufflink with lethal precision. "She isn't a collection, Senator. And she isn’t 'art' for you to squint at. She is my wife. I suggest you adjust your line of sight before I decide to adjust your committee’s funding."

The Senator blanched and retreated. Adrian’s grip on Lila’s waist tightened, his temper simmering.

"The Sterlings!" the announcer’s voice boomed. "If you would join us for the first dance."

The ballroom went silent as they moved to the center of the floor. Adrian pulled Lila flush against his hard frame, his hand sliding dangerously low on her back. The music swelled, but Adrian’s eyes were dark with a cold, possessive fire.

"Rule three, Lila," he whispered. "Public obsession."

"Adrian.."

"Kiss me. Now"

Lila reached up, her fingers tangling in the cool silk of his hair, and pulled him down. When their lips met, the ballroom exploded. A wall of white light hit them—cameras flashing in a frenzy, capturing the raw, heated claim of the city’s most powerful man. It was a shot that would be on every magazine cover by morning.

In the shadows, Marcus Thorne watched the display, his glass cracking in his hand. Beside him, Linda Vance appeared, her eyes like chips of green ice.

"It’s a disgusting performance, isn't it?" Linda hissed. "She’s a puppet"

Marcus looked at her, a dark understanding passing between them. "I want her back in my bed, broken. I want him ruined."

"Then let's collaborate," Linda whispered. "s

Since we have a common enemy" she smiled and Marcus reciprocated

"You're quite the sister everyone wants.."

Marcus stepped out, intercepting the couple as they moved toward the terrace. "Quite the transformation, Sterling. Does she actually believe the act?. Do you make her scream or do you just have her signing herself away in the boardroom?"

"She screams for no one but me, Marcus," Adrian countered, his voice chillingly calm.

"She should have been mine, in my arms and screaming away on my bed"

Lila breathe hitched. "Mind how you talk Marcus Thorne, or I'll have your tongue cut off"

Lila replied startling both Adrian and Marcus, but Adrian was satisfied.

"Not the quiet one again? what a transformation" Marcus mocked.

Adrian got enraged

he turned Lila away, but his fury was now a visible thing. He led her toward the exit, completely abandoning the Al-Hamad delegates half-way through the event.

The darkness of the limousine swallowed them both as the privacy glass slid up. Adrian didn't say a word; his face was a mask of lethal annoyance. He dragged her onto his lap, his hands devouring the midnight silk of her dress.

"Every male in that room was drooling for what's mine," he rasped, his voice thick with possessive rage.

Without warning, his hand slid up her thigh, his fingers finding the heat of her center. Lila gasped, her head falling back against the leather seat as he inserted two fingers into her, his movements rhythmic and demanding.

"You think you can look that beautiful and not be punished for the attention you bring?" he whispered into the crook of her neck, his thumb rubbing against her as he claimed her again in the silence of the moving car. "The gala is over, Lila. Now, the real disaster begins."