Chapter Three

  The engagement party is a nightmare in designer clothing.

  

  Glittering chandeliers hang like jeweled traps from the ceiling, their golden light reflecting off the champagne flutes clinking in celebration. The air is thick with expensive perfume, murmured conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter.

  

  I stand at Ethan’s side, my champagne untouched, my fingers curled tightly around the delicate stem of the glass. My grip is the only thing keeping me steady.

  

  I force myself to smile, to act the part of the devoted fiancée. Because in this room—where wealth and power weave together like an unbreakable net, one misstep could ruin everything.

  

  Beside me, Ethan thrives in the attention. He shakes hands, trades smirks, and commands the room with the ease of a man born to rule. His hand rests low on my waist, possessive, like a brand.

  

  I feel his gaze flicker toward me every now and then. Testing me. Pushing me.

  

  I don’t react.

  

  Not yet.

  

  But he’s playing a game, and I have no idea what the rules are.

  

  His breath warms my skin as he leans in, his lips barely grazing my ear.

  

  “Smile.”

  

  The word is soft, but it’s a command.

  

  I stiffen. “Don’t push me.”

  

  Ethan chuckles, the sound rich and knowing. “You agreed to this, sweetheart.”

  

  I turn my head, meeting his gaze with a forced smile. “For a price.”

  

  His fingers tighten slightly on my waist. “Everything has a price. Including your obedience.”

  

  I hate the way his voice makes my skin prickle. Like it’s not just a warning but a promise.

  

  Before I can fire back, a voice cuts through the noise.

  

  “Ethan! Isabella!”

  

  A well-dressed woman strides toward us, a microphone in hand, cameras trailing her like a pack of wolves. A reporter.

  

  I swallow hard.

  

  This is what I signed up for. The spotlight. The scrutiny. The constant eyes on me.

  

  But it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

  

  She flashes a dazzling smile. “Tell us, how did you two fall in love?”

  

  Ethan doesn’t hesitate.

  

  “The moment I saw her, I knew.”

  

  I almost choke on my champagne. Liar.

  

  He turns to me, his expression unreadable. “Right, darling?”

  

  I meet his gaze, pulse hammering. He’s daring me to mess up.

  

  I force out a soft laugh, tilting my head as if the memory is sweet and not a carefully orchestrated lie.

  

  “Of course. It was… unexpected. But when it’s right, you just know.”

  

  The reporter sighs dreamily. “That’s beautiful! And that kiss from earlier, so passionate! Will we see another?”

  

  My stomach drops.

  

  Oh, hell no.

  

  Ethan’s smirk is lazy, but there’s something sharp beneath it. He already knows my answer doesn’t matter. The crowd is watching. Expecting.

  

  And Ethan Sinclair never disappoints.

  

  His fingers slide around my waist, pulling me flush against him before I can react.

  

  Then his mouth crashes onto mine.

  

  Gasps ripple through the party.

  

  Camera flashes explode like fireworks.

  

  I freeze.

  

  His lips are firm, demanding. He kisses me like he owns me, like the ring on my finger isn’t fake, like this isn’t a contract.

  

  I hate that my body hesitates. That for a fraction of a second, heat curls low in my stomach, my fingers twitching against his chest.

  

  No.

  

  I shove him away, my breath ragged.

  

  The crowd cheers.

  

  Laughter. Whispers. The clinking of glasses.

  

  None of it matters.

  

  Because when I meet Ethan’s gaze, I see something dangerous flickering beneath his cool mask.

  

  Something real.

  

  That kiss wasn’t just for show.

  

  And that terrifies me.

  

  The Warning

  

  I escape the ballroom the first chance I get.

  

  Slipping past guests. Dodging curious stares.

  

  My heels click against the marble floors as I slip down a quiet hallway, my pulse still unsteady.

  

  I need air. Space. Distance from Ethan.

  

  I press my fingers to my lips, my mind racing.

  

  Why did it feel so ?

  

  No.

  

  I won’t go there.

  

  I push the thought away and yank my phone out of my clutch.

  

  More headlines.

  

  More pictures of us.

  

  More lies.

  

  But one notification stands out.

  

  New Message: UNKNOWN NUMBER

  

  My stomach tightens.

  

  I click it open.

  

  Get out before it’s too late.

  

  What?

  

  A chill skates down my spine.

  

  Before I can process it, a voice drifts from the room ahead.

  

  Ethan’s voice.

  

  I freeze.

  

  “…She’s not a problem.”

  

  His tone is low, clipped.

  

  “She’s exactly where I want her.”

  

  A pause.

  

  A cold chuckle.

  

  “She has no idea what’s coming.”

  

  My breath catches.

  

  My fingers tighten around my phone.

  

  I don’t move.

  

  I don’t breathe.

  

  I just listen.

  

  “She’s easy to control,” Ethan continues, his voice sharp, unreadable. “She thinks she has choices. But in the end, she’ll do exactly what I want.”

  

  Ice floods my veins.

  

  He’s talking about me.

  

  The sound of clinking glass. A muffled response.

  

  Then Ethan again, quieter this time. Darker.

  

  “She signed the contract. She belongs to me now.”

  

  I stumble back, my heart pounding.

  

  No.

  

  No, no, no.

  

  I turn on my heel, moving as fast as I can without making a sound.

  

  I need to get out of here.

  

  I don’t know what Ethan is planning.

  

  But I know one thing for sure.

  

  I can’t trust him.