CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Evan’s POV

I shouldn’t have let her see that album.

I paced the length of my room, tugging at my cufflinks like they were suffocating me. She hadn’t said anything yet, but I’d seen the shift in her eyes. She was digging quietly, cleverly, and that wasn’t just curiosity anymore. It was instinct.

And Arianna’s instincts? They were sharp. Too sharp.

I needed to redirect her focus, steer the narrative back into safer waters. Tonight’s charity dinner wasn’t just about appearances anymore. It was damage control. Before she pulled the wrong thread and unraveled everything.

A knock echoed through the room.

“Come in,” I called, knowing who it was.

Arianna stepped in wearing a midnight blue satin dress that curved along her waist like it was stitched from shadows and sin. Her hair was swept to the side, exposing her throat. Vulnerable, untouchable, and infuriatingly captivating.

“Let me guess,” she said, arms folded, eyes narrowed, “you’ve decided that being seen in public with me will improve your brand.”

“If my brand included women who argued with me at every turn and walked like they wanted to stab me, maybe,” I replied dryly. “But tonight’s not about me. It’s about proving a point.”

“To who?” she asked, stepping closer. “Your parents? Or the ghosts you keep pretending don’t exist?”

I stared at her, watching that glint in her eye sharpen.

“You looked through my study,” I said softly.

She didn’t deny it. “You left the door unlocked. Rookie mistake.”

Touché.

I held out my arm. “Come on, darling. Let’s go play house for the crowd. Smile enough and I might just forget you’ve been snooping.”

Her lips quirked. “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll remember exactly what you’re capable of. And start snooping myself.”

Her fingers looped through my arm with mock tenderness, but the tension crackled like static between us. I felt her exhale slowly, as if she were bracing herself.

Though I didn’t tell her that I was doing the same.

****

The venue was extravagant—velvet ropes, champagne fountains, and a crowd draped in silk and secrets. Cameras flashed as we stepped onto the marble stairs, hands linked, the perfect couple built on careful lies.

She leaned in, whispering against my jaw, “I hope I embarrass you tonight.”

“You already do. Breathtakingly,” I replied through a smile for the cameras.

We glided through the crowd with practiced ease. I spoke with politicians, venture capitalists, and fake friends while Arianna charmed them with just enough mystery to keep them guessing. But her hands were never truly relaxed in mine. Not once.

Then I saw her.

Camille.

She moved like a ripple through water, still devastating and dangerous.

And still very much the kind of woman who didn’t let go.

She zeroed in on me like a missile. “Evan Gates,” she purred, crimson lips curling into a smirk. “You clean up nicely. Though I didn’t expect to see you domesticated.”

Arianna stiffened beside me.

“Camille,” I said, tone flat. “Didn’t know you were still on this side of the world.”

“Temporary detour,” she replied, her gaze sliding over Arianna with unsettling precision. “And who is this beautiful creature playing Mrs. Gates?”

Arianna answered before I could speak. “The real one. Not just another visitor.”

Camille’s eyes glittered. “Oh, honey, no one stays ‘real’ for long in his world. Trust me.”

Arianna squeezed my hand so hard I nearly flinched.

Camille turned back to me, tilting her head. “You always did like fire. Just be careful not to get burned, darling. Some women aren’t as easy to extinguish as the others.”

She winked at Arianna and walked away, her perfume trailing like the ghost of old sins.

“What the hell was that?” Arianna hissed.

“Old story but Irrelevant,” I said, jaw clenched.

“She hates you.”

“But she loved me once, and that’s usually how it starts,” I replied, and with that, Arianna didn’t respond, and neither did she let go either.

****

Later, after the speeches and the forced laughter, I stepped away to take a call in the empty corridor behind the banquet hall. The gala noise faded behind me as I pulled my phone from my inner pocket.

Then I saw a message from an unknown number.

“She’s closer than you think. Look to the blood you buried.”

I stared at it, my heart stilling. The message had no name or threats. Just an implication.

Cold dread crawled up my spine.

I reread it three more times before deleting it and slipping the phone back into my jacket.

When I returned to the ballroom, Arianna was on the balcony, staring into the night.

She turned before I could speak. “Another lie delivered? Or a ghost trying to warn you this time?”

She didn’t know how close she was to the truth.

I walked over and stood beside her. “Do you ever stop pushing?”

“Only when someone tells me everything,” she answered, turning to face me. “And you? Do you ever stop hiding?”

Her voice was quiet. But her gaze.... her gaze were sharp and demanding.

“You ever get the feeling someone’s watching us?” I asked suddenly.

She blinked. “All the time. I just thought it was your ego.”

I smiled, despite everything. “Maybe. Or maybe the walls are thinner than we thought.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” I murmured, “that there are people who don’t want us together. People who believe this marriage is more than it seems.”

“It is more than it seems,” she said, softer now. “I saw the picture. The woman who looked like me. I heard your father last night. Something is going on, Evan.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t, at least not yet. Because if I admitted it aloud, if I gave voice to the possibility that Arianna was connected to everything I was trying to forget, then I’d have to confront the one thing I feared most: Which was this marriage wasn’t just a marriage of convenience anymore, it was fate or a curse in disguise.

And someone out there knew it before I did.