Chapter 7: Games of Jealousy
781 Words
The grand ballroom glittered under golden chandeliers, filled with laughter, music, and the city’s most powerful figures. Ariana Valdez stood at the entrance, her elegant gown flowing perfectly as she held her posture with quiet confidence. But beneath her calm exterior, her heart beat faster than usual.
Tonight was different.
Tonight, she was not just a CEO—she was Damian Cruz’s wife.
“Relax,” Damian murmured beside her, his voice low and teasing. “You look like you’re about to walk into a war zone.”
Ariana kept her gaze forward. “In this crowd? I just might be.”
Damian smirked. “Then stay close. I’d hate for my wife to get lost.”
She shot him a sharp look. “Don’t get used to saying that.”
“Too late,” he replied smoothly.
Their names were announced, and all eyes turned toward them. Ariana slipped her hand into his arm, her smile flawless as cameras flashed. Together, they walked in—perfect, untouchable, powerful.
But the illusion didn’t last long.
“Well, isn’t this interesting?”
Ariana didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Elena Morales stepped forward, stunning in a crimson gown, her smile sweet but her eyes calculating.
“Elena,” Ariana greeted coolly.
“I must say,” Elena continued, glancing between them, “I didn’t expect this. You always did surprise people, Ariana.”
Damian’s arm tightened slightly around her. “Careful,” he said lightly. “You might sound jealous.”
Elena laughed, but there was no warmth in it. “Jealous? Of a contract marriage?” she said, her words sharp despite her smile.
Ariana’s chest tightened, but she held her ground. “You seem very interested for something that doesn’t concern you.”
“Oh, it concerns me,” Elena replied softly. “Because when emotions get involved, things tend to fall apart.”
Before Ariana could respond, another voice cut through the tension.
“Ariana.”
Her breath caught as she turned.
Lucas stood there, dressed in a sleek black suit, his expression warm yet serious. The familiarity of him hit her instantly—comfort, safety, something steady in the chaos.
“Lucas,” she said softly.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he admitted, his gaze briefly shifting to Damian. “But I guess things change.”
Damian straightened beside her, his presence suddenly more rigid. “They do,” he said coolly.
Lucas met his gaze without hesitation. “Some things shouldn’t.”
The tension between them was immediate. Ariana could feel it in the air, thick and heavy.
“I just wanted to check on you,” Lucas said, his voice gentler now. “Make sure you’re okay.”
“I am,” she replied, though her voice wasn’t as certain as she wanted it to be.
Damian leaned closer to her, his voice low enough for only her to hear. “You look more comfortable with him.”
Ariana’s heart skipped. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything,” he murmured. “I’m just noticing.”
Before she could respond, music filled the ballroom, and couples began moving toward the dance floor.
“Dance with me,” Damian said, his tone firm.
Ariana hesitated—then nodded.
As he led her onto the floor, his hand settled at her waist, steady and warm. They moved together effortlessly, as if they had done this a thousand times before.
“You’re distracted,” Damian said quietly.
“You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” His eyes locked onto hers. “Because from where I stand, you’re torn.”
Her breath caught. “I’m not torn.”
“Between him…” Damian continued softly, “and me.”
Ariana swallowed hard. “This isn’t a competition.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “Everything is a competition when feelings are involved.”
She looked away, trying to steady herself. Lucas represented something safe, something certain. But Damian—he was something else entirely. Something dangerous. Something real.
“Look at me,” Damian said gently.
She did.
For a moment, the world around them faded—the music, the whispers, the watching eyes. It was just the two of them, caught in something neither of them could fully control.
“I’m not going to lose you again,” he said quietly.
The words hit her harder than she expected.
As the music slowed, Ariana realized something she had been trying to deny since the beginning:
This wasn’t just a contract.
This was something deeper. Something complicated.
And whether she was ready or not… her heart was already involved.
- Writer
