Chapter Five
1059 Words
The evening has come and my nerves have returned. A stylist came to help me prepare for the gala. I let her do my hair, paint my face, zip my dress. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself.
When Leo came to pick me up, he stopped for a moment. His eyes softened, then his expression shifted back to cold control.
Ready, he said.
As ready as I’ll ever be, I whispered.
He offered his arm. I took it.
We stepped out together into the night, two strangers pretending to be in love, walking toward a crowd that would soon decide if they believed our story.
The car slowed before the grand entrance of the Kings’ Charity Gala. Flashing lights reflected against the windows. Photographers lined the walkway, calling out names and waiting for their perfect shot. My palms were damp. My heart felt like it was beating against my throat.
Leo sat beside me, calm as stone. His face was unreadable, the kind of face that had been trained to show nothing. The air inside the car was thick with silence until he finally said, Stay close.
The door opened. The moment my feet touched the carpet, the sound hit me all at once. Cameras clicked. Voices rose. Someone shouted his name. The bright lights felt like heat against my skin.
Leo took my hand, his grip firm. We walked together through the crowd. His stride was confident, his head high. I tried to mirror him, but my knees were weak. I could feel eyes on me, sharp and curious. People were whispering already.
Inside, the ballroom shimmered with gold and white. Music played softly under the hum of conversation. Waiters moved between guests with glasses of champagne. Every corner of the room spoke of wealth and power.
Leo guided me toward a group near the center. His parents stood there along with several people who looked important. As we approached, the crowd shifted, eyes moving from him to me.
So this is the mysterious fiancée, someone said with a small laugh.
The group chuckled lightly. My cheeks burned. I forced a polite smile and tried to focus on breathing.
She’s beautiful, another woman said, though her tone carried more curiosity than kindness.
Leo placed his hand on my lower back, subtle but firm. She is, he said. His voice carried enough weight to end the whispers.
For a moment, I felt a strange sense of safety.
As the evening moved on, I tried to blend in. I smiled, nodded, laughed when needed. But I could feel the scrutiny everywhere. Some guests were kind. Others weren’t. I overheard one woman whisper, She’s the runaway bride from the news. I saw her face online.
My chest tightened. I turned away quickly, pretending to sip from my glass.
When I caught Leo’s eyes from across the room, he was already watching me. His expression shifted. Within seconds, he was beside me again.
Ignore them, he said quietly. They feed on gossip.
It’s easy for you to say, I whispered back. You belong here.
He looked at me for a long moment. Then he said, You belong here now too.
Something in his tone made my stomach twist. I wanted to believe him, but the air around us felt fragile.
A reporter approached, smiling too brightly. Mr. King, a quick photo of you and your fiancée for the society page
Leo didn’t hesitate. He pulled me closer. The photographer raised his camera, and for a brief second, I forgot everything.
His hand rested against my waist. I could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of my dress. When I looked up at him, his eyes met mine. There was no coldness this time, no wall. Just silence that felt heavier than the music around us.
The flash went off. We blinked, but neither of us moved away. The moment stretched longer than it should have. My heart thudded against my ribs.
Then he stepped back. His expression closed again, the softness gone.
Excuse me, he said curtly to the photographer, and walked away.
I stood there frozen, unsure if I had imagined the shift in his eyes or if it had been real. Around me, the noise returned. People laughed and talked as if nothing had happened.
I wandered toward the balcony to breathe. The air outside was cool and quiet. The city lights shimmered below, endless and distant.
I gripped the railing and let out a slow breath. My head spun with questions I couldn’t ask. Why did he look at me that way? Why did it feel like something real, even when everything between us was built on lies?
I heard footsteps behind me. I didn’t have to turn to know it was him.
You shouldn’t stand out here alone, he said.
I forced a small smile. I needed air.
He stepped closer, his reflection appearing beside mine in the glass door. For a while, he said nothing. Then, softly, he added, They won’t stop talking about you.
I kept my eyes on the lights below. I’m used to it.
You shouldn’t have to be.
The words were simple, but they hit harder than I expected. I looked up at him. For the first time, his face wasn’t unreadable. His eyes had softened.
I don’t belong here, I said.
He turned to face me fully. You think I do?
You’re Leo King. This world was built for you.
He gave a faint smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. You think wealth makes it easier. It doesn’t. It only hides the loneliness better.
The way he said it made something inside me ache. I saw a side of him that wasn’t cold or proud. Just tired.
I wanted to ask why he hid behind that silence. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to. But before I could speak, someone called his name from inside.
He looked toward the sound, then back at me. His expression changed again, that invisible wall returning.
Stay out here for a while, he said. I’ll handle the rest.
And just like that, he turned and walked away.
I stood there, watching the door close behind him. The noise of the party drifted faintly through the glass, but the space he left beside me felt louder.
- Writer
