Just for the camera

Yvette's pov

I was in trouble.

And now it was starting to look like that was the only thing I was good at.

The news had spread like a wildfire, every blog, every headline screamed my name as I watched the TV from the interrogation room through the window.

I tried to pretend like it was fine but my stomach dropped.

Tessa Miller didn't want to talk out of court, she'd been granting interviews and now my life is a mess. My career, my image — everything was in the balance, shaking on the edge of a precipice. I just needed a way out of all this. But after that I would continue. This was business and I guess being a paparazzo paid way better.

I took a deep breath,

“ Yvette Moreno ”

I groaned inwardly and looked up and I froze.

Joachim Knight.

Manhattan’s renowned lawyer?

Of all people?

I sat there staring at him. He looked arrogant and effortlessly handsome, he'd had the kind of face that looked like it made for headlines, a handsome, white-as-a-sheet face— and a voice that made you listen, even though you had no interest in what he was about to say.

I frowned, clutching my purse tight, hoping he had just got this over with.

He took a seat facing me as he adjusted his charcoal black tailored suit.

“So I'm going to jail?”

“If that's your dying wish, yes.”

I managed not to roll my eyes.

“You leaked —”

“ I don't care.” I shot back.

Seems like orange is your favorite color. You might be wearing it for sixty years if you prove stubborn.

He said as he leaned back on his chair. “You have been charged with invasion of privacy, harassment, defamation and, if convicted, you'll face felony charges carrying a prison sentence of up to five years. “

“What?”

“So you better cooperate with me.”

I looked up at him and pouted, maybe I should play the game I'm good at.

“I don't want to go to jail,” I said in a small voice. “I have some savings, and I'll pay you whatever if you let me off the hook and I swear on my parents' grave that I'll be clean as a slate.” I pleaded, giving him puppy eyes.

“It's not as easy as you think —”

He sounded unbothered, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Then do something.”

“ I have a proposal,” he said after thirty minutes of watching me wipe fake tears and looking like I was about to have a cardiac arrest.

The door opened and one of the officers brought in two cups of cappuccino, placing one in front of each of us. I grabbed mine and gulped it down, desperate for the caffeine. Joachim’s cup sat untouched on the table, a prop he had no intention of using.

“ And what’s it? I asked, my heart hammering.

He smiled, but there was something colder in his expression now. “ A deal.”

I scoffed. “ A deal?”

He leaned back, his face growing seriously, the usual casual edge gone. “ I’m offering you a way out." A way to fix this mess and walk away from the action without any consequences.

I stared at him, incredulous. “ Really?” I said after a brief silence. “And what do you get out of it? ”

“ I need a favor,” he said simply.

I shrugged and took a sip from the cup of cappuccino.“ What kind of favor? ”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. ”

I almost spilled the brown liquid from my mouth and began to cough. “Excuse me?”

You pretend to be my girlfriend for a little while, and in return, I’ll make sure this whole mess blows over. No more press, no further headlines. I’ll clear your name, Yvette, and you’ll walk down from all of this unscathed. Simple. ”

“ Why me? ” I demanded. “ You could hire anyone." You could find a dozen women to play that part. Why me? ”

He smirked, his expression expressionless for a moment. “ Because you’re the one who can make this work." You have the right kind of personality. And honestly, you don’t have a lot of options.

I gasped.

“ You think I’m that hopeless? ”

He didn’t blink. “ You’re hopeless enough to be here." Don’t pretend you’re not.

His words hit harder than I’d thought. He was right though, even though I hated to admit it.

“ You’re out of your mind,” I murmured, almost to myself.

He smiled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “ Maybe. But I’m offering you a way out. You take it, or you don’t. Your choice.

The weight of the decision pressing down on me. And it seemed like with every passing second I was losing it.

The truth was, I had no way out.

I’d be drowning in the press, in legal battles I couldn't afford.

On the other hand, agreeing to his plan meant pretending to be something I wasn’t — pretending to be with a man I didn’t trust, a man who had made it clear in the past that he didn’t give a damn about me.

But the deal. It was tempting. Too tempting. It was a way out. It was the only way out. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that Joachim wasn’t offering this out of the goodness of his heart. He wanted something. I just didn’t know what yet.

I stared at him.” What would you gain?”

“ Nothing,” he said, almost immediately. “ It’s simple." We pretend for a little while, every day for 100 days. The press believes it all, you get your clean slate, and I get to redeem my image. No strings attached. You keep your distance. I keep mine.

“ Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “You suppose I’m buying that?” No strings attached indeed.

Did I really say that?

He sighed nonchalantly. “ It’s up to you." But you can’t keep dodging the mess you’re in. I’m offering you a way out. What do you have to lose?

I exhaled, taking a step back, my mind a huge mess. Everything about this felt wrong. And yet, the longer I stood there, the further I realized that I didn’t have any better options. He was a playboy and I couldn't trust him.

What was I going to do? Let the whole world tear me to pieces? Let this mess

Drag on till forever?

I stared out of the window and I could see the journalists outside, probably waiting for me.

I turned back to him, suddenly frustrated.

“ So, you just expect me to pretend we’re this happy couple for the cameras, and that’ll be enough to make everything go down? ”

His expression softened slightly, but there was still that sharp edge to his voice. “ It’s not about being a happy couple." It’s about controlling the narrative. We sell the story to the press, and we make them believe it. That’s all. It doesn’t have to be real, Yvette.

I met his eyes, feeling the pressure in the air between us. For a moment, I wanted to refuse, to walk down and tell him to get lost. But I knew I couldn’t. Not now. Not with everything on the line. Not when I was so broke to pursue a law case.

“ Fine,” I said, my voice rough. “ I’ll do it." But this is a one-time thing. You don’t get to pull any other tricks on me. The moment I smell something questionable, I’m out.

Joachim’s lips quivered into a faint smile, though his eyes didn't soften. “ Agreed.”

I frowned, and I held out my hand, and he took it, the grip hard and firm, and I stupidly wanted him to keep holding my hand.

There was something about that handshake that made my breathing slow. His hands—they were insanely cold, as if he had kept them inside a fridge all through the night.

“A pleasure to bond with you," Joachim said to me with a sly smile, withdrawing his hand abruptly.

I nod at him, sensing the awkwardness in his expression, yet cannot figure out what it is.