Chapter four: The Charity Illusion
701 Words
The grand ballroom of the Montel Estate glowed with warm lights, soft classical music floating through the air. Guests in glittering gowns and tailored suits moved about, champagne glasses in hand, laughter and murmurs of high society echoing across the marbled floors.
Alina stood near the entrance beside Damian, her hand resting awkwardly on his arm. She wore a simple but elegant gown Damian’s had bought for her. She looked beautiful, but she felt like a shadow in the room overshadowed, overlooked, and out of place.
Damian, on the other hand, looked like he belonged. His black tuxedo was sharp, his jaw set, his expression cold as usual.
“This way,” he muttered, guiding her toward his parents who were speaking with a few prominent donors.
Alina's heart sank when she spotted her own family nearby. Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore, stood with pride beside her older sisters Amelia and Anita. The two wore matching burgundy gowns, laughing softly with other guests, who appeared particularly taken by Amelia’s charm.
Alina shifted uncomfortably, Her parents barely acknowledged her when she walked past. Amelia gave her a curt nod, and Anita didn’t even glance her way.
Damian’s mother, Vivienne Montel turned with a bright smile though it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Alina, darling. I’m so pleased you could make it,” she said smoothly, then turned back to the donor without waiting for a reply.
Alina smiled politely, keeping her posture straight. She wasn’t sure what was worse the cold shoulder from her in-laws or the icy indifference from her own blood.
Damian remained silent beside her.
As they mingled, Alina noticed Lucas approaching her.
“Alina,” he said gently. “You look lovely tonight.”
She smiled, surprised. “Thank you, Lucas.”
“You’ve always had this quiet glow about you,” he added, his voice low. “I noticed it even before the switch.”
Alina’s eyes widened, and Lucas chuckled softly.
“I mean before the wedding. Don’t worry I’m not here to start drama. Just… wanted to say you deserve you deserve someone who love you better than being a stand-in.”
Her throat tightened. Before she could reply, Damian appeared at her side.
“Lucas,” Damian said coolly. “Don’t you have someone else to charm tonight?”
Lucas raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just being polite.”
As Lucas walked away, Alina saw Damian’s jaw twitch.
“Don’t talk to him,” he said under his breath.
“Why?” she asked, genuinely confused. “He was just—”
“He talks too much,” Damian cut in.
Later that evening, a speech was given. Alina stood beside Damian, barely listening. All she could feel was the suffocating presence of judgment—from her family, from strangers, from herself.
When the dancing began, Damian disappeared with an excuse. Alina stood awkwardly at the edge of the ballroom.
That’s when Amelia walked up to her.
“So… how’s married life with Mr. Iceberg?” she asked with a sly smirk.
Alina swallowed. “It’s fine.”
Amelia leaned in. “You know it was supposed to be me, right?”
Alina’s voice trembled slightly. “Yes.”
“And yet here you are,” Amelia said softly, then added with a grin, enjoy it now because very soon I will take him back from you sister, because you're just a standin for me okay she said with a smirk and walked towards Lucas.
Before Alina could reply, Amelia turned and walked away, arm-in-arm with Lucas.
Alina blinked back the sting in her eyes and turned toward the balcony, needing air.
She didn’t see Damian watching her from across the room his gaze unreadable, his jaw clenched, a war behind his cold eyes.
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