11

Evelyn’s POV

He had promised that he would wait until I gave him an answer after he proposed marriage to me a week ago, what the hell had changed?

There was something he wasn’t telling me and I wanted to know the driving force behind this. 

“Zeke, I—“

He dropped to one knee. Forcing me to swallow my words. 

A collective gasp swept through the room like a wave, followed by the most intense flashes of camera I’ve ever been exposed to. The light was blinding, painting the scene in stark white.

Zeke was taking this stunt to the next level and there was nothing I could do about it. 

He dipped his hand into the inner pocket of his suit and my breath hitched. No. No. He couldn’t.

He produced a small velvet box, he opened it and a diamond sat in it, the camera light hit the stone and it refracted into a million sparks. 

It was stunning. It was ludicrous. It was the most shocking moment of my life. 

“Evelyn Banner,” He said, his voice dropping just enough to sound intimate yet still carry over the mic. 

“I know this is far from conventional or perfect but I didn’t want to miss this chance because you’ve shown me that life has no meaning without fighting for what you want and I don’t want to lose you. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

In my head, I knew this was a bad idea. A wrong move born out of desperation. My body refused to move and I was at a loss for words to say. 

Zeke planned this perfectly. It was the ultimate maneuver, a brilliant, brutal checkmate. With the media covering every second, a refusal would be a public spectacle, a scene of rejection that would be spun as me humiliating a beloved actor, billionaire, and philanthropist even though he was trying to marry his brother’s ex-wife. An acceptance would cost me a handful of things I haven’t figured out yet, but it would save my dignity—for now.

“Say yes, Evelyn.” He whispered, loud enough for me to hear. His eyes had hardened and if I didn’t know any better, there was an underlying threat to his words. 

“We don’t need to make a scene here and you know this is the best plan for us.” 

The room had fallen quiet, and everyone held their breath and waited for my answer. The silence stretched, the tension hanging over our heads like the grand chandeliers. 

I could hear my heart pounding against my ribs. I had mere seconds to make up my mind. 

I could see the headline of tomorrow’s papers: Recently divorced Evelyn Banner rejects Zeke Blackwood, turning down the chance to remarry into the Blackwood family.

I took a deep, shaky breath to steady my nerves, and I forced a huge smile on my face—probably the largest fakest smile I’ve ever had to put on. 

“Yes, Zeke. I’ll marry you.” I said, stretching out my trembling left hand. The word tasted like ash on my tongue. It wasn’t an acceptance; it was a battle surrender.

Zeke slipped the diamond ring on my finger. It was light, cold, and beautiful. He stood up proudly, his face radiating with joy. 

The room erupted into a chorus of applause, cheers, and yet another barrage of camera flashes. Zeke swept me into a triumphant, possessive kiss. I stood rigid, passive, an unwilling prop in his masterful play.

He was an actor, it was easy for him to slip in and out of characters at will but it was different for me.

When he finally pulled back, he held me close, smiling for the cameras.

“We’re engaged!” he announced to the world, fist pumping the air.

No, Zeke, I thought, staring over his shoulder at the flashing lights. You just declared war.

——

Zeke didn’t allow me to speak to anyone else for the rest of the night. It wasn't through physical force, but through a suffocating wall of congratulatory well-wishers and his own constant, unwavering presence. 

I also felt like he wanted to protect me from Damien and Genevieve who hadn’t seen this coming. 

Every flash of light, every handshake, every clink of glasses cemented the reality of my present future. For the second time in a week, my life had taken a drastic turn that I had zero control over and I wondered if I was now a full-blown puppet. 

My hand felt alien, weighed down by the blinding diamond that sat pretty on my left hand.

Finally, at half past midnight, the party was over and it was time to head home. 

We were back in the enclosed space of his limousine, speeding away from the Blackwood Hotel and the media circus he had willingly created. The tinted windows offered a much-needed shield from the still paparazzi that were clustered outside the gates yelling at us on top of their lungs.

I instinctively pulled my hand back from his when he tried to touch it, the emerald silk of my dress rustling sharply.

“Don’t touch me, Zeke.” I said, my voice low and trembling with contained fury.

Zeke settled back against the leather seat, looking annoyingly relaxed while I was losing my shit. He even dared to loosen his bow tie, the picture of a man seemingly pleased with himself after he just pulled off a successful hostile takeover.

“Don’t what, Evelyn? Don’t bask in the glow of our future?” Zeke scoffed. “After everything that’s happened to you in the past week, I thought that you’d be happy that things turned out this way.”

“Don’t you dare act like this was some romantic proposal or act like you threw me a lifeline to save me,” I spat, turning to face him fully. “You lied to me. You cornered me. You ambushed me on national television when you knew I would have no other choice. That wasn’t a proposal, Zeke. It was a deliberate attempt to trap me in your plans without asking for my permission and you know it.”