Chapter 5 : The Gala Night

Ariana’s POV

The next few days passed in a blur of silence, signatures, and silk dresses.

Since I’d signed the contract, Slade had barely spoken more than a few sentences to me. He moved through the mansion like a ghost always composed and always unreachable. The staff treated him like royalty, and me like a guest who wasn’t supposed to stay too long.

It was easier that way.

Or so I told myself.

But every time I caught his reflection in the glass, every time I heard his voice from another room, something in me twisted as a constant reminder that I’d stepped into a life that wasn’t mine, one built on revenge, not love.

On the fourth evening, his assistant, Evelyn, appeared at my door with a garment bag.

“Mr. Knight asked me to deliver this,” she said. “You’ll need it for the gala tonight.”

“Gala?” I repeated, blinking.

“Yes. The annual Knight Foundation event. It’s his first public appearance in over a year and now, yours too.”

My heart stuttered. “Does the whole city know?”

Evelyn’s smile was professional, but her eyes softened slightly. “By now, yes, Mrs. Knight.”

I didn’t see Slade until later that night.

He was waiting by the car, tuxedo immaculate, his expression unreadable as always. When his gaze landed on me in the black satin gown he’d chosen something flickered behind his eyes.

He didn’t speak for a long moment. Then, quietly, he said, “You look the part.”

“The part?”

“My wife.”

There was no warmth in his tone, just a statement of fact. Yet somehow, it made my pulse race.

As we drove through the city, I watched him from the corner of my eye. His posture, his control, his calmness it was all perfectly crafted. But beneath that, I could feel something else. Something coiled and dangerous.

When we arrived at the Grand Regency Hotel, the noise hit instantly,the cameras flashing, voices shouting, lights everywhere.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for this.”

He gave a small, humorless smile. “Pretend you are. The world believes what it sees.”

Then he stepped out, extending a hand.

And I took it.

The flashes went wild.

Questions were shouted “Mr. Knight! Who’s the woman with you?” “Is she your wife?” “When did you get married?”

Slade ignored them all, guiding me inside with steady composure. His hand rested at my back, light but firm the kind of touch that said, You belong to me, whether you realize it or not.

Inside, the ballroom glowed with soft gold light and murmurs of power. Every person in the room was someone either investors, politicians, the kind of people who could buy and sell lives with a phone call.

And every one of them turned when they saw us.

Slade leaned down slightly. “Smile,” he murmured. “You’re Mrs. Knight now. They need to believe that.”

I forced one, feeling the weight of his words.

That’s when I saw him.

Across the ballroom, holding a glass of whiskey, stood Shawn Black.

My stomach dropped.

His expression froze the second our eyes met shock, disbelief, then something darker. His fiancée at his side looked confused, whispering his name, but he wasn’t listening. His eyes were on me.

Slade’s voice came low, controlled, and sharp as glass. “Don’t look away. Not yet.”

I swallowed hard. “You knew he’d be here.”

“Of course,” he said, lips barely moving. “This is where revenge begins.”

We moved through the crowd like a storm with polite smiles, firm handshakes, conversations I barely heard. When Slade introduced me “My wife, Ariana Knight” the words sounded both surreal and dangerous.

Shawn’s knuckles whitened around his glass.

It shouldn’t have mattered. He’d chosen someone else. He’d thrown me away like I was nothing.

But when I saw the fury in his eyes, a small, bitter part of me felt satisfaction.

Halfway through the night, I slipped away to the terrace. The city stretched below, distant and alive, while I tried to catch my breath.

“Running already?”

I turned sharply. Slade stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, his presence heavy enough to quiet the air.

“I just needed some air,” I said quietly.

He stepped closer, stopping just inches away. “You did well tonight.”

“Is that your way of saying I didn’t embarrass you?”

His mouth curved faintly. “It’s my way of saying you surprised me.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The night wind tugged at my hair, and his gaze followed the movement like it held meaning.

“Shawn saw us,” I whispered.

“I know.”

“You planned that.”

He didn’t deny it. “He took something from me once. Now, I’m simply taking something back.”

I looked at the man who had turned my life upside down in a week and asked, “And what about me, Slade? What am I in all this?”

His eyes softened just slightly. “Collateral. Maybe more.”

Before I could ask what that meant, the music shifted inside slow and haunting. He extended his hand.

“Dance with me.”

“Here?”

“Here.”

When I hesitated, his tone dropped lower. “They’re watching. Let them see how perfectly I’ve replaced him.”

So I placed my hand in his.

And as he led me back inside, cameras turned, whispers grew, and every eye followed us.

His arm slid around my waist, firm, possessive. The world faded until it was just us.

“Why me?” I asked softly.

He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze dipped to my lips, then back to my eyes.

“Because you make him bleed without trying,” he murmured. “And because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

My breath caught. The air felt different, charged and trembling.

When the song ended, he didn’t let go. He leaned in, close enough that only I could hear.

“From tonight onward, Ariana, the world belongs to us. Even if it’s built on lies.”

And for the first time, I realized maybe the real danger wasn’t the lie itself.

Maybe it was how much I wanted to believe it.