Chapter 17 – Cameras Never Blink

By the next morning, the paper bag Jace had given me sat empty on my desk, but the knot in my stomach hadn't gone anywhere.

I had slept badly, waking every couple of hours only to remember the photos, the comments, and the way people had looked at me on campus. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw strangers laughing at a younger version of myself—a lonely little girl who had once believed the boy she admired might someday notice her.

Now the entire university knew she had.

My phone buzzed just as I finished tying my hair into a low ponytail.

Jace: Be downstairs in fifteen minutes.

I frowned and typed back.

Why?

His reply came almost instantly.

Media Day. Richard already told the athletic department you're coming.

I stared at the screen in disbelief.

Without asking me.

Again.

A second message appeared.

Wear something elegant. Cameras will be there.

I tossed my phone onto the bed with more force than necessary.

"Unbelievable."

Breakfast was unusually quiet. Richard sat at the head of the dining table, reading through financial reports while sipping coffee as though the world around him didn't exist. My mother looked exhausted, though she tried to hide it behind polite smiles. Jace arrived a few minutes later wearing black athletic gear with the university logo embroidered across his jacket.

He glanced at me once before taking the empty chair opposite mine. "You look like you're planning my funeral. " I buttered a slice of toast without looking up. "I'm deciding whether prison would be less exhausting." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'll take that as a compliment." "It wasn't one."

Richard lowered his newspaper. "Enough." The single word silenced the room.

"This afternoon is important," he continued. "Sponsors will be present, along with members of the athletic board and several major donors. I expect both of you to behave accordingly." His gaze lingered on Jace. "No unnecessary arguments." Then it shifted to me. "And not disappearing halfway through the event." "I've never disappeared from an event." "You tried at the fundraiser." I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again.

Unfortunately, he wasn't wrong.

Halden University's athletic center looked nothing like the campus buildings I attended every day.

The entrance alone was lined with banners featuring the basketball team, while television crews moved between interview stations carrying cameras and lighting equipment. Students crowded behind security barriers hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite players, and volunteers rushed back and forth with clipboards in their hands.

The entire place buzzed with controlled chaos.

I slowed instinctively as we stepped inside. "This is... a lot." Jace glanced at me. "You'll get used to it." "I'd rather not." His mouth twitched, but before he could answer, a woman wearing a headset hurried toward us.

"There you are," she said, sounding equal parts relieved and exhausted. "We're already behind schedule." She introduced herself as Sandra, the team's media coordinator, before handing us both a printed itinerary.

Couple photographs, sponsor meet-and-greets, player interviews, social media content, and promotional videos.

The list seemed endless.

"You've got to be kidding," I muttered. Sandra laughed sympathetically. "I wish I were."

The first photo session turned out to be far more uncomfortable than I expected. The photographer positioned us in front of a university backdrop before studying us through the camera lens.

"Closer." Jace stepped half an inch toward me. The photographer sighed dramatically. "I said closer, not socially acceptable." Heat rushed into my cheeks. Jace looked just as unimpressed as I felt.

"We're standing together." "You look like coworkers." A few people nearby laughed.

The photographer lowered his camera and gestured impatiently. "Mr. Calloway, put your arm around your fiancée." Jace looked at me first. It was subtle, so subtle that no one else would have noticed, but I did.

"I'm going to touch you," he murmured quietly enough that only I could hear. One of my rules. Don't touch me without warning. I gave the smallest nod.

Only then did his hand settle carefully against my waist. The contact was light, almost hesitant, but it still sent an unexpected rush of awareness through me. My shoulders stiffened before I consciously forced myself to relax.

"Breathe," he said under his breath without moving his smile. I hadn't realized I was holding it.

The camera flashed repeatedly as the photographer circled us.

"Perfect. Now look at each other." I turned my head. So did Jace. For a brief second, the noise around us faded. His gray eyes held mine with an intensity that made my heartbeat stumble. There was no mockery in his expression, no arrogance, none of the superiority I'd grown used to over the years.

It looked almost...

No.

I forced the thought away before it could finish itself.

"Excellent!" the photographer exclaimed. "Those are the ones." Jace stepped back immediately, creating enough distance to remind me that the moment had only been part of the performance. I hated how disappointed I felt.

By early afternoon, I was mentally exhausted. Smiling on command was surprisingly difficult, especially when every conversation revolved around the same questions.

How did you meet?

When did you know you were in love?

Have you started planning the wedding?

Each lie came easier than the last, and that realization bothered me more than the questions themselves.

Needing a few minutes alone, I slipped out of the main arena and wandered into one of the quieter corridors behind the media rooms. The silence lasted less than a minute.

"Escaping already?" I turned to find Aiden walking toward me with a press badge hanging around his neck and a camera slung over one shoulder. "You too?" I asked. He smiled. "The student newspaper volunteered to cover Media Day." "I should've guessed." He studied my face for a moment before asking, "Rough day?" I laughed softly. "That's one way of putting it."

We talked for a while, mostly about harmless things. Our upcoming group project, professors we both disliked, and the overwhelming atmosphere inside the arena. It was ordinary conversation, the kind I hadn't realized I missed until I was having it.

For a few precious minutes, I almost forgot the cameras waiting inside. "What are you smiling about?" The familiar voice made me turn. Jace stood at the end of the hallway. His expression was calm. Too calm.

"I was talking." "I can see that." His eyes shifted briefly toward Aiden before returning to me. Aiden seemed to sense the sudden change in atmosphere because he adjusted the strap of his camera bag and smiled politely. "I'll let you two get back to work. I'll see you tomorrow, Elena." "See you." The hallway fell quiet after he walked away.

Jace didn't speak immediately. Instead, he watched Aiden disappear around the corner before looking back at me. "You seem comfortable with him. "I folded my arms. "We're working on a project together." "I didn't ask why you know him."

There was something different in his tone. Not anger. Something sharper. Something far more personal.

Before I could answer, Sandra hurried around the corner looking flustered. "There you are!" she said. "We've been looking everywhere." She stopped when she noticed the tension between us. "Everything okay?" "We're fine," Jace answered before I could.

Sandra nodded distractedly.

"Good. Because the athletic director wants the two of you in the VIP lounge." She handed Jace a sealed envelope. "It just arrived for you," Jace frowned. "I wasn't expecting anything." Neither was I.

He tore it open as we walked back toward the arena. The moment he unfolded the contents, all the color drained from his face. I had never seen Jace Calloway look frightened. Not once. Until now.

Slowly, he turned the photograph around so I could see it. My heart stopped.

It wasn't just a picture.

It was a photograph of us inside the Calloway house. Taken through a window.

Someone had been watching us. And scrawled across the bottom in black marker were five chilling words.

I know your engagement is fake.