Abandoned By My Alpha: From Grass To Grace

Los Angeles, California

The flashing lights of paparazzi cameras burned like wildfire, a relentless storm swallowing the entrance of the Grand Riviera Hotel. Celeste Laurent had been to enough premieres and press events to know that nothing good came from a media circus this loud. Yet, here she was, walking straight into one.

Her driver had barely opened the door before reporters lunged forward, shouting her name.

“Celeste! Over here! What do you have to say about the photos?”

“Celeste, is it true you’ve been secretly dating Damien Sinclair?”

“Celeste, what about your engagement?”

The last question nearly made her stumble. Engagement?

Her hands curled into fists inside the pockets of her designer trench coat. The crisp Los Angeles night did nothing to cool the fire of irritation simmering beneath her skin. She had just landed from an overseas film shoot. How the hell could she be engaged if she hadn’t even been in the country for weeks?

The crowd surged as she made her way toward the private entrance. Hotel security tried to push back, but nothing could stop the onslaught of cameras and accusations.

Then, she saw the headline plastered across the screens outside the hotel.

"HOLLYWOOD ROYALTY: CELESTE LAURENT & DAMIEN SINCLAIR ENGAGED IN SECRET!"

Below it, a leaked image of her and Damien. Damien Sinclair, her ex, and the only man who had ever shattered her trust and left her heart in ruins.

Celeste’s breath hitched. The photo plastered wasn’t a recent one, yet it had been manipulated to look like it had only been taken the previous night. A subtle and malicious trap.

Her pulse pounded. She needed to get inside before this escalated.

“Celeste—” A sharp, deep voice cut through the noise.

She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

Damien Sinclair stood at the edge of the chaos like a shadowed king surveying his domain. He was as imposing as ever, dressed in a crisp charcoal suit that only enhanced the sharpness of his frame. His dark, stormy grey eyes locked onto hers, unreadable yet filled with an intensity that made her chest tighten.

The paparazzi went into a frenzy at the sight of them together.

"Damien, is the engagement real?"

"Mr. Sinclair, are you confirming the wedding?"

"Celeste, do you have a comment?"

Celeste kept walking, jaw tight. She wouldn't give them what they wanted, which was a reaction.

But Damien, on the other hand, wasn’t one to ignore chaos. In fact, he embraced it, owned and controlled it.

At that moment, he controlled the entire situation.

When Celeste reached the entrance, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist, firm, yet not forceful.

“Inside, now,” Damien murmured against her ear, his voice silk and steel.

She should have yanked her hand away. She should have told him to go to hell, but instead, she let him lead her through the doors, away from the relentless flashing lights and into the dimly lit luxury of the Grand Riviera’s penthouse elevator.

Inside the Penthous, the moment the doors closed, Celeste spun on him.

“What the hell is this?” she snapped, yanking her wrist free. “An engagement? Are you out of your mind?”

Damien leaned against the elevator wall, unbothered. “That’s not an answer, Celeste.”

“Oh, so you want an answer? Well here’s one for you. This is bullshit!"

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips, but his eyes remained sharp. “You’re going to want to sit down for this.”

Celeste folded her arms. “I’d rather stand, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” He reached into his jacket pocket and handed her a sleek black phone. “Scroll.”

She snatched it, fingers swiping through article after article. The scandal was everywhere. Every major media outlet had picked up the ‘engagement.’ Some even had fabricated sources claiming they had been secretly rekindling their relationship.

Celeste’s stomach turned. “This isn’t a rumour,” she realized. “This was planted.” Her tone had dropped to almost audible.

Damien exhaled slowly, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Exactly.”

The weight of realization hit her. Someone wanted this story out. Someone powerful enough to manipulate headlines and force both of them into the narrative. But who? Why?

She narrowed her eyes. “Did you do this?”

His jaw tightened. “No.”

“Then why the hell are you acting so calm about it?”

“Because panicking doesn’t fix problems.”

She let out a humourless laugh. “Of course you would say that, after all you're Damien Sinclair, the man who never loses control.”

His expression didn’t change, but there was something unreadable in his eyes.

“This isn’t just a tabloid story,” he said after a moment. “Someone is trying to use us. And until we find out who, we need to play along.”

Celeste’s breath caught. “Play along? You mean...?”

“Yes.” His gaze darkened. “We make the engagement real.”

Celeste took a step back, shaking her head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Celeste—”

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to pretend to be engaged to you.”

His expression was unreadable. “Then let the story spiral out of control. Let the media turn this into a mess neither of us can contain.”

Her hands trembled. “This isn’t my problem.”

His voice was razor-sharp. “It is now.”

She turned away, breathing hard. This was too much. The memories, the past, the way he could still make her feel things she had buried years ago.

“Tell me something,” she whispered. “Does this help you? Or just your empire?”

For the first time, he hesitated, and that was all she needed.

She turned back, meeting his gaze head-on. “I don’t owe you anything, Damien. You made sure of that a long time ago.”

He stepped closer, his towering presence swallowing the space between them. “You’re right. But this isn’t about the past. It’s about the present. And if you don’t think someone is trying to control both of us, you’re not seeing the full picture.”

Celeste swallowed hard. He wasn’t wrong, and she hated the fact that he wasn’t wrong.

Her entire career could take a hit if this scandal wasn’t handled correctly. The entertainment industry thrived on perception, and a fabricated engagement to Damien Sinclair could either elevate her or it could destroy her.

She needed time to think. But time was something neither of them had.

She exhaled slowly, lifting her chin. “If I agree to this, there are conditions.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in the faintest trace of amusement. “Of course there are.”

Her eyes burned into his. “This is temporary. We control the story, not the other way around. And when this is over, you walk away Damien and for good this time.”

Something flickered in his gaze. Something dangerous. “I’ll agree to that,” he said.

Celeste, not even for a second, could believe this man, but as she looked at the city lights sprawling beneath them, she realized she had no choice but to play the game.

And Damien Sinclair? Well, he had always known how to win.