15

Adrienne's nails dug into her palm beneath the table, every muscle screaming to shove him away. But she couldn't—not here, not now, not when Chloe's wide eyes were glued to them like a spectator at her own execution.

​My first kiss, it's gone under a mask, Adrian froze.

​Alexander finally pulled back, lips a breath away from hers. His thumb lingered at the corner of Adrienne's mouth, wiping away the ghost of the kiss as if he owned it. His gaze never wavered, blue eyes burning with a storm that twisted something deep inside Adrian's chest.

​Chloe's voice cracked like glass. "You… you bastard. This isn't over." She staggered backward, heels clicking frantically as she bolted out of the café. Heads turned, whispers stirred—but no one dared interfere.

​Adrienne tried to pull her hand free from Alexander's iron grip, but his fingers only tightened around hers, possessive and unrelenting.

​"You didn't need to do that," Adrienne whispered, her voice trembling despite the sharpness she forced into it.

​Adrian had died and resurrected a hundred times over from shock. He was in a sharp panic and in utter collapse of his emotional firewall. That kiss was an ultimate collision of his two worlds. It was Adrian's lifelong crush fulfilled by Adrienne's professional contract. He achieved the very thing he desired, but under the worst possible circumstances.

​Alexander leaned in, so close his breath warmed the shell of her ear. "Yes, I did. It had to be real."

​Alexander was no one to be caught off guard. His moves were always calculated and impartial. Chloe had him cornered, and the only way to stop Chloe's public threat from escalating was a final, undeniable act of commitment.

​He didn't deny the accusation; instead, he overrode it with an action. The decision to publicly kiss Adrienne confirmed his priorities: the contract and the business lie were more important than his repulsion to intimacy.

​He could spare a few kisses to keep his plan rolling.

​"Do not think anything of it, Adrienne," his voice returned to its icy, detached edge, and so did his eyes.

​"Next time, you'd do well to kiss back. No wife freezes like a robot when being kissed by her husband," he told her and stood from his chair, adjusting his suit.

​Adrienne's heart thudded painfully. He was just acting.

​She balled her fists, eyes blinking away the shock that still rammed her body. Actually, she liked this; Alexander might be acting now, but by the time she was done with her charms, he'd be groveling for her kiss, her love, and she would simply vanish.

​Still, she couldn't let Alexander see through her plans. She would keep acting as she should.

​Adrienne forced a smile, standing beside him. "But... we agreed never to do this... intimacy. You breached—"

​"I made the contract. And I'm telling you that we shall be kissing whenever the need arises." Alexander cut her off by holding up her chin, his eyes frowning down at her delicate face.

​His hand slid from her chin, only to curl around the back of her neck—firm, commanding. He tilted her face up to his, forcing her to look at him. The café melted away, the polished walls and curious eyes forgotten.

​"It's just a kiss. The money I pay you is enough to cover," his voice lowered as he moved his mouth to her ear, "even if I wanted to fuck, Adrienne, you have no say. I paid for it." He gently stepped away from her like a husband who had just whispered sweet things into his wife's ear.

​Adrienne balled her fists. Oh, Alexander, I can't wait to teach you a lesson. You will know how it feels to be used like a toy, she fumed quietly.

​"But you don't ever have to worry about that. You don't quite fall into the class of people who turn me on," Alexander touched her cheek. "You were just a cheaper and available option. Follow me, we're leaving." He said and turned away, walking away without waiting for his "wife."

​"He's not only a narcissist, he's also a misogynist," Adrienne murmured, walking behind Alexander.

​She paused in front of the door as she saw a young man walking out of a fancy car and toward Alexander.

​"Sir, the car is ready," a young chauffeur bowed his head beside a fancy black car as Alexander walked out of the expensive café.

​He paused and turned to Adrienne behind him. "Ladies first, my lady." Alexander held out his hand to Adrienne, a tender look in his eyes.

​It was a mask, and Adrienne knew it.

​Slowly, she walked over and placed her hand on his, and that damn shiver ran down her spine as Alexander closed his arm around hers.

​She allowed him to lead her to the car, and like a gentleman, he opened the car door for her.

​"Get in, sweetheart," he said softly.

​Devil! Adrian screamed internally.

​"Thank you, handsome," she smiled, lowering herself into the car.

​She released a long sigh as the door was gently shut beside her, allowing her a second of quick reflection.

​She stared at the expensive interior and realized that she had never ridden in such an expensive car in her entire life.

​It confirmed Alexander's wealth, and it opened her eyes to the huge status difference between them.

​She was reminded that the man she was dealing with was a powerful billionaire who could make her disappear in the blink of an eye. But she already knew all this; she already knew that she was playing a dangerous game the moment she signed to be his wife.

​Alexander moved in beside her, and the whole place chilled with his presence, shutting down her loud thoughts.

​"Drive, Lawrence," Alexander ordered the driver.

​"Yes, sir," Lawrence said, and the car gently drove away from the café, moving along the highway.

​Alexander glanced beside him and saw Adrienne staring down at her lap, seat belt unfixed.

​Adrienne's head snapped up as she sensed Alexander moving closer to her.

​"Alexander," Adrienne's breath hitched as Alexander loomed over her, her lashes fluttering as heat and fear tangled in her chest.

​"Your seat belt, my darling wife," Alexander whispered as the seat belt clicked into place.

​"Oh, thank you," Adrienne murmured, smiling.

​Alexander nodded. He was about to move back to his seat when his nostrils picked up a whiff of a familiar scent from Adrienne.

​He froze, his eyes narrowing in disbelief, confusion, and doubt.

​He leaned in again, and this time, he buried his nose in Adrienne's neck.

​Adrienne gasped, pressing her back against the leather behind her, her hand immediately going up to Alexander's chest to push him off her.

​"A-Alexander... what are you doing?" she whispered breathlessly, her cheeks flushing as she glanced at the quiet driver in front of the car.

​Alexander lifted his face from her neck, gazing into her green eyes.

​"Adrian?" His voice was low, extremely doubtful, yet his eyes held a hint of conviction.

​Adrienne froze.

​Her heart flipped and shook, her extremities turning cold as ice. Her whole body was like a molten jelly, unable to move a single muscle.

​She must have heard wrong.

​"Alexander," she smirked, caressing his cheek. "My name is Adrienne... not Adrian. Do I remind you of your ex? Did you date men in secret?" she whispered, her face moving closer to his. "Tell me, I won't tell, I promise." She slid her hand to his neck, pulling him closer.

​Alexander immediately pulled away from Adrienne, frowning as he kept his eyes pinned on Adrienne's face.

​He could swear he got a whiff of Adrian's warm perfume.

​"Don't spew nonsense. I don't like men," Alexander murmured, clearing his throat.

​"Adrian... he's my secretary. Not my boyfriend," he frowned.

​Alexander leaned back in his seat, the subtle motion dragging Adrienne's hand from his neck. His face was a mask of calculated neutrality, but the intensity in his blue eyes didn't diminish.

​The car, moving smoothly down the road, felt suddenly like a sterile interrogation room.

​"It's not about reminding me of anyone," Alexander's voice was low, his gaze still fixed on her. "It's about context, Adrienne. You just left a café, not the administrative office. My secretary's perfume has a distinctive sandalwood base—a scent he's worn for months. You smell exactly like him."

​Adrienne's internal panic flared, but she forced a smile that felt brittle on her lips. She needed a lie that was simple, plausible, and put him on the defensive.

​"Oh, that," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, the movement quick and confident. "You think I have a secret boyfriend? Don't be ridiculous, Alexander. It's called corporate espionage... of the scent variety."

​She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially, yet making sure the chauffeur, Lawrence, couldn't miss the dramatic intimacy.

​"Don't worry, Mr. Husband. I'm a perfume lover. I love to douse myself with them. Your boyfriend... secretary's perfume happened to be amongst them. Don't overthink," she kissed her hand and placed it on Alexander's cheeks, smiling seductively.