Chapter 6 : Fake Smiles with Hidden Knives

Ariana’s POV 

Slade had barely let go of my waist since we stepped off the dance floor. Not possessively or dramatic but protectively.

Although the gala had been overwhelming when we first arrived but it was nothing compared to how it felt after the dance.

Whispers filled the air like a perfume

“I heard she's Mr Knight's Mysterious wife”

“She wasn’t in the picture last year”

“Maybe she forced her way in with his parent”

Everywhere I turned, eyes followed me assessing, speculating, peeling apart my existence like it was a puzzle they wanted to solve.

Slade stayed close to me protectively and presence alone was strong enough to silence the entire conversation 

I was sipping water because my stomach couldn’t handle wine now when I felt a pair of eyes staring at me.

I turned.

Shawn Black was approaching.

And on his arm was the fiancée I’d only ever seen in carefully staged photos:

Isabella Hart. Beautiful and Sharp. The kind of beauty that knew it was sharp and liked cutting people with it,No wonder Shawn wouldn't move on from her.

Slade’s hand slid to the small of my back.

Barely a touch.

But enough.

“Look who found time to greet us,” Slade murmured, voice smooth but edged. “The Blacks.”

Shawn smiled. It wasn’t a warm smile. It was the kind a wolf gives before the bite.

“Ariana,” he said casually “You look… well.”

The pause before well was deliberate.

Like he’d flipped through a dictionary of insults and picked the mildest one now that we had an audience.

I swallowed. “You, too.”

His gaze dropped briefly to my ring then flicked back up, eyes cold.

“Married already,” he said with a low chuckle. “Didn’t waste any time, did you?”

The words hit like a slap.

Isabella squeezed his arm gently, eyes glowing with cruel interest.

“Oh, Shawn, be fair. Some women just… can’t stand being alone. They jump to the next opportunity the moment it appears.”

My fingers tightened around my glass.

Slade’s voice cut through the tension, polite but lethal.

“Careful, Ms. Hart. Insinuations don’t suit you. They highlight your insecurity.”

Her smile froze.

Shawn turned fully to Slade. “You don’t know her like I do.”

Slade’s expression didn’t change. “And whose fault is that?”

The air tightened.

Shawn looked at me again, his eyes flashing with something between accusation and obsession.

“When I heard you got married, I thought it was a joke.” He let his gaze sweep me slowly. “But I guess some people can’t handle heartbreak without… selling themselves to the next bidder.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks.

Not due to shame but out of anger.

Slade didn’t smile. He didn’t blink.

“What you call ‘selling herself,’” Slade said quietly, “I call upgrading.”

Shawn’s jaw twitched.

Isabella leaned in with her voice sweet like poisoned honey.

“I suppose congratulations are in order. Though honestly, Ariana… a little humility would suit you. Showing off so quickly after leaving Shawn”

“I didn’t leave him,” I said before I could stop myself. “He left me.”

Slade’s hand pressed more firmly against my back.

Shawn stiffened. “You didn’t fight. You didn’t even try. You walked away and ran straight into” He gestured around the ballroom, his voice dropping to a hiss. “This circus.”

I opened my mouth, but Slade spoke first.

“She didn’t run anywhere,” he said. “I chose her.”

The simplicity of the sentence stole the breath from the group around us.

Shawn laughed sharply and humorless. “Of course you did. You have money. Influence. A reputation that terrifies half the city.”

He leaned close enough for me to smell the whiskey on his breath.

“Tell me, Ariana… did you even wait a week before climbing into his bed?”

The words sliced me clean open.

Before I could react, Slade moved.

Just one step forward, placing himself between Shawn and me.

A shield of sculpted rage barely wrapped in civility.

“You will not speak to my wife like that,” he said softly.

Every nearby conversation died.

Shawn stared up at him,Slade was obviously taller, broader and colder and something like fear flickered in his eyes before he masked it.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered.

Slade tilted his head. “It never is.”

Isabella tugged Shawn’s sleeve, fake concern painted on her perfect face. “Come, darling.”

Then she eyed me with a subtle smirk. “Enjoy it while it lasts, dear. Men like him don’t stay loyal long.”

Slade’s hand tightened again.

This time it was warm and steady.

“Don’t project,” he said.

Isabella’s face cracked for a split second before she dragged Shawn away.

The moment they were gone, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

Slade turned to me slowly.

His voice dropped, low and controlled.

“Are you alright?”

No one else could’ve heard it.

Only me.

“I’m fine,” I whispered.

“You’re lying.”

I looked up. “So are you.”

We didn’t speak for a few seconds.

“You handled yourself well,” he said. “Better than I expected.”

I let out a broken laugh. “You expected me to cry?”

“No.” His gaze held mine. “I expected you to break.”

My heart stumbled.

“And you didn’t.”

Before I could reply, the lights dimmed and another announcement echoed through the ballroom.

Slade extended his hand again not for a dance, but to guide me deeper into the evening.

“Come,” he said. “This night isn’t done"