The Proposal No One Saw Coming

Chapter 3:

The velvet box rested silently in Cassian Wolfe’s hand, like a threat disguised as a promise.

Eden Blake stared at it from across the penthouse’s sleek living room, her breath tangled somewhere between curiosity and dread. Sunlight sliced through the towering glass windows behind him, casting gold shadows across the marble floor. It should have felt romantic—elegant, even. But it didn’t.

It felt like a setup.

“Are you serious?” she asked, her voice low.

Cassian lifted one brow. “Do I look like a joker?”

“No. But you look like the kind of man who does whatever he wants without asking twice.”she said

His lips curved in a smirk, slow and deliberate. “Then you understand me.”

He walked toward her, closing the space between them with quiet confidence. He opened the box. Inside, a diamond glittered like ice under pressure. Too big. Too sharp.

“Wear it,” he said. “Tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“The gala.”

Eden swallowed. “You’re introducing me as your fiancée tonight?”

Cassian’s gaze didn’t waver. “Correct.”

“That wasn’t part of the plan.”

He took her hand—warm, firm, and surprisingly gentle. “Plans change.”

She snatched her hand back. “People don’t just ‘become’ engaged in twenty-four hours.”

“In this city, they do.”

Eden folded her arms across her chest. “This is too fast. Too risky.”

Cassian stepped closer. “So back out. No one’s forcing you.”

But that wasn’t true.

Rent. Hospital bills. Her mom’s experimental treatment plan hanging by a thread. Eden didn’t have choices. Just fewer bad options.

She glanced down at the ring again, then back at him. “Why tonight?”

A flicker of something unreadable passed through Cassian’s eyes. “Because Verena will be there. And because if we don’t sell this—convincingly—she’ll bury me.”

Eden hesitated, heart pounding. Then slowly, she reached into the box and picked up the ring.

“I want hazard pay,” she said.

Cassian laughed, low and warm. “We’ll talk numbers later.”

The gala was being held at The Viridian, a sprawling ballroom suspended thirty floors above Madison Avenue. The kind of place that smelled like wealth and ambition. Eden had never been anywhere like it.

By 6 PM, she stood in front of the penthouse’s mirror, barely recognizing herself.

The dress Cassian had picked for her was black silk, open at the back, with delicate beading along the bodice. Her hair fell in soft waves. Diamond earrings sparkled beneath the soft curls. A makeup artist named Renee had done her face so flawlessly Eden feared blinking too hard.

When Cassian entered the room, he stopped short.

For once, he had no words. Just the flicker of something dangerous in his eyes.

“Say it,” Eden said.

“You look...” he cleared his throat. “...expensive.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s it?”

His lips twitched. “You want compliments or credibility?”

She stared at him. Then slowly, a smile broke through. “Both.”

He extended his arm. “Ready?”

“Not even a little.”

The entrance to The Viridian was chaos. Paparazzi clustered around the black car like sharks in designer sunglasses. Flashes exploded from every angle. Eden’s heart hammered.

Cassian leaned in as the driver slowed. “Once the door opens, we’re a couple. You love me. You trust me. And you’re proud to be mine. Understand?”

She looked at him. “You’re very full of yourself.”

“I’m very convincing.”

The car stopped. A valet yanked the door open.

Cassian stepped out first, towering and calm. Then, with practiced ease, he turned and offered his hand.

Eden took it.

The crowd exploded. Cameras snapped. Voices shouted. “Cassian! Cassian, who’s the mystery woman?” “Is that Eden Blake?” “Are you engaged?”

Cassian pulled her close, his arm around her waist. She felt the tension in his body, the way his hand settled with just enough pressure to feel real. He leaned toward her and whispered in her ear, “Smile like you’re in love.”

She looked up at him. “What does that even look like?”

He didn’t answer.

He kissed her.

It was sudden—soft and deep and utterly believable. His mouth moved over hers with a practiced ease that shocked her. It wasn’t passionate, not yet, but it was warm. Assured. Designed to be seen.

And the world saw.

Eden barely registered walking through the glass doors, past the velvet ropes and into the marble atrium. Her brain was still spinning from the kiss.

Cassian held her hand all the way to the ballroom, where chandeliers glittered above polished mahogany and a string quartet played something rich and timeless.

Dozens of socialites turned to watch them. Whispers rippled. Faces she’d only seen in magazines glanced at her, then at the ring.

Cassian nodded at a hostess. “Cassian Wolfe and fiancée.”

The hostess smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. Wolfe.”

Eden tried not to let the floor fall out beneath her.

The evening blurred.

Eden danced with Cassian once, twice, three times. He never let her get far from his side. He introduced her to senators, tech moguls, old-money heiresses, and media executives.

She smiled, laughed, and lied like her life depended on it.

And maybe it did.

Then she saw her.

Verena Sterling.

Tall. Blonde. Beautiful. A red dress that hugged her like sin. She glided across the ballroom like a queen entering her court.

Cassian stiffened.

“Let me guess,” Eden whispered. “That’s her.”

He nodded. “Play it cool.”

Verena approached them like a lioness. Her smile was razor-sharp.

“Cassian. I see you’ve traded up.”

“Verena.” His voice was cold. “This is Eden. My fiancée.”

Verena turned to Eden. “You poor thing. You must be exhausted. Performing is hard work.”

Eden smiled sweetly. “Luckily, I’ve had years of experience pretending to like women like you.”

Cassian choked on a laugh.

Verena’s eyes narrowed. “Enjoy your night.”

“Oh, I am,” Eden said. “He’s a great kisser.”

Cassian didn’t speak, but later, when they were alone on the balcony, he leaned close and said, “I didn’t expect you to go toe-to-toe with her.”

“You underestimated me.”

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

The gala ended late. The city lights stretched below them like constellations trapped in glass. Cassian stood at the penthouse’s bar, pouring scotch into a tumbler.

Eden kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the couch. “So? Did we sell it?”

He turned to her, eyes shadowed. “They believed it. For now.”

“For now?”

Cassian sat beside her. “Verena isn’t done. She’ll dig. She always does.”

Eden tilted her head. “What exactly did she do to you?”

He took a sip of his drink. “She ruined someone I cared about.”

“Who?”

He hesitated. “My brother.”

Eden blinked. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“I don’t. Not anymore.”

A long silence followed.

“You think she’ll come for me?” Eden asked.

“She already is.”

Cassian reached into his jacket and pulled out a phone. He showed her the screen. A headline flashed across it:

“Who Is Eden Blake? Wolfe’s Mystery Fiancée Raises Eyebrows”

Below it were photos from that night—her stepping out of the car, the kiss, the ring.

“She’s leaking it to the press?” Eden asked.

Cassian’s jaw flexed. “Of course she is.”

“What do we do?”

He looked at her, eyes dark and unreadable.

“We go deeper,” he said. “We make them believe this is real.”

Eden narrowed her eyes. “How?”

He stood and walked to her slowly.

“We live together. We sleep in the same room. We hold hands when no one’s watching. And when she sends someone to spy on us—and she will—we give them a show they won’t forget.”

Eden stood too, chest rising.

“This wasn’t the deal.”

He met her gaze. “You said hazard pay. I’m upping the hazard.”

“What if I say no?”

“Then you walk away. But if you do, she wins.”

Eden stared at him. Her fingers clenched around the edge of the sofa.

Then, slowly, she said:

“Fine. But from now on, you don’t make decisions for me.”

Cassian stepped closer. “Deal.”

And just like that, the line between fake and real started to blur.