The Billionaire’s Substitute Bride

Chapter 5

Amara

I didn’t like the way she looked at him.

I noticed it before I realized I was paying attention.

The way her eyes lingered just a second too long, the way her smile shifted when he spoke, softer, more familiar than anything I had seen from anyone else in the room.

She knew him.

Not casually.

Not professionally.

In a way that made something uncomfortable settle in my chest.

“Adrian,” she said as she approached, her voice warm, practiced, like she had said his name a hundred times before. “You disappeared.”

His attention shifted to her, calm, composed, like nothing had changed, like I wasn’t standing right beside him wearing a ring that had already caused too many questions.

“Camille,” he replied.

Her gaze flicked to me then.

Not surprised.

Not confused.

Just… assessing.

“And this must be her,” she said.

Her.

The word settled in a way I didn’t like.

I straightened slightly, forcing myself to meet her gaze, to hold it, even though there was something about her that made it feel like a challenge.

“Amara,” I said.

Her smile widened just slightly.

“Of course,” she replied. “I’ve heard so much.”

That was a lie.

We both knew it.

Adrian didn’t react.

Didn’t correct her.

Didn’t acknowledge it at all.

Camille’s attention returned to him, her expression softening again, like I had already been dismissed.

“You’ve been very quiet lately,” she said. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

That answer was flat.

Final.

It didn’t seem to bother her.

If anything, it made her lean in slightly, closer than she needed to be.

“I doubt that’s the real reason,” she said lightly.

Something in my chest tightened.

I didn’t like the way she was standing.

I didn’t like the way she was looking at him.

And I definitely didn’t like the fact that he wasn’t moving away.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

It did.

Before I could stop myself, I shifted closer to him, just enough for my shoulder to brush his arm.

A small movement.

Barely noticeable.

Except he noticed.

Of course he did.

His hand came to rest at my back immediately, firm, steady, like the contact was intentional, like he was acknowledging the shift without drawing attention to it.

My breath caught slightly.

Camille noticed that too.

Her eyes dropped to his hand, then back up to my face, her smile tightening just a fraction.

“Interesting,” she murmured.

I didn’t respond.

I didn’t trust myself to.

Instead, I focused on keeping my expression neutral, steady, even though my thoughts were anything but.

“You didn’t mention her,” Camille continued, her tone still light, but sharper now, more pointed.

“I don’t discuss my personal life,” Adrian said.

“That’s never stopped you before.”

His hand pressed slightly more firmly against my back.

Not enough for anyone else to notice.

Just enough for me to feel it.

For me to understand it.

Stay.

The message was clear.

Camille’s gaze lingered on me again.

“And yet here she is,” she said.

I tilted my head slightly.

“And here I am,” I replied.

Her smile didn’t falter.

But something in it changed.

“You’re new,” she said.

“Yes.”

“That’s obvious.”

The implication was clear.

Temporary.

Replaceable.

Something in me reacted before I could stop it.

I turned slightly toward Adrian, my hand lifting to rest against his chest, fingers curling lightly into the fabric of his shirt.

The same way I had earlier.

The same way this had started.

His breath shifted.

Just slightly.

Just enough for me to feel it.

“Is that a problem,” I asked, my voice quieter now, steadier than I felt.

Camille watched the movement closely.

Every detail.

“No,” she said slowly. “Just… unexpected.”

“That seems to be a theme tonight.”

Her eyes flicked to Adrian again, searching, questioning.

He didn’t give her anything.

Not a reaction.

Not an explanation.

Nothing.

And for some reason…

That felt like a win.

Camille exhaled softly.

“Well,” she said, stepping back slightly, her composure slipping just enough to show something underneath. “I suppose I’ll have to adjust.”

“Do that,” Adrian replied.

The dismissal was subtle.

But it was there.

And she heard it.

Of course she did.

Her gaze lingered on him for a second longer before shifting back to me.

“Take care of him,” she said.

It wasn’t a suggestion.

It wasn’t kind.

It was something else.

Something sharper.

Then she turned and walked away.

I didn’t move until she disappeared into the crowd.

Then I exhaled.

Slow.

Controlled.

Even though nothing about this felt controlled.

“What was that,” I asked.

My hand was still on his chest.

I hadn’t realized it until now.

I should have pulled it away.

I didn’t.

“That,” he said, his voice lower now, closer, “was you making a decision.”

I frowned slightly.

“I didn’t make anything.”

“You did,” he replied. “You stepped in.”

My fingers tightened slightly against his shirt before I forced them to relax.

“She was too close.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Before I could think about what they meant.

His gaze dropped to my mouth again.

Slow.

Deliberate.

“Is that what bothered you,” he asked.

My breath caught.

“No.”

The lie came too quickly.

Too easily.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

“You’re reacting,” he said quietly.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

His hand moved slightly at my back, not pulling me closer, but not letting me step away either.

“Why does that matter,” I asked.

“It doesn’t,” he said. “Not to me.”

That shouldn’t have affected me.

It did.

“Then why bring it up.”

“Because you don’t like it.”

My chest tightened again.

“You’re reading too much into it.”

“No,” he said. “I’m reading it exactly right.”

I shook my head.

“This isn’t real.”

“No,” he agreed. “It’s not.”

“Then stop acting like it is.”

His gaze held mine.

Steady.

Unmoving.

“Then stop reacting like it matters.”

That hit harder than anything else he had said.

Because I didn’t have an answer for it.

Because part of me knew he was right.

And I hated that.

I stepped back finally, creating space, even though it didn’t feel like enough.

“This still ends tonight,” I said.

“Yes.”

The answer came easily.

Too easily.

I didn’t believe him.

Not anymore.