Chapter 2: The Wrong Man

I don’t attend weddings. Not unless there is a very good reason.

Tonight, unfortunately, there was one.

The Rosewood ballroom was filled with everything I usually avoided—too much perfume, heavy makeup, loud laughter, and fake smiles that barely hid people’s true intentions. Crystal chandeliers glowed above the crowd, reflecting light across polished marble floors and gold-trimmed walls.

To most people, the place probably looked beautiful.

To me, it looked excessive.

Money trying too hard to prove itself.

I adjusted the cuff of my suit and glanced around the room again, already calculating how long I needed to stay before I could leave without offending anyone important.

Five minutes. Ten at most.

Just as I decided to step toward the outer hallway to escape the conversations forming around me, someone grabbed my arm.

There was no greeting. No hesitation.

Just slim fingers curling around my sleeve as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re late.”

I looked down.

She was beautiful—but not in the way most women at events like this tried to be.

Her makeup was minimal, her hair pulled back loosely, and there was a sharpness in her eyes that made it clear she wasn’t interested in playing polite. She looked furious.

At me.

Which was strange, considering I had never seen her before in my life.

“I’m supposed to deduct from your balance,” she continued, already pulling me toward the ballroom entrance, “but seeing how much you invested in your appearance to look the part, I’ll forgive you. If you perform well tonight and I’m satisfied, I might even increase your pay.”

I stopped walking.

She took two more steps before realizing I wasn’t moving.

Then she turned around and frowned at me.

“Excuse me?” I asked calmly.

For a brief second her expression faltered, like she had just realized something might be wrong. But it disappeared almost immediately.

“Don’t worry,” she said impatiently. “I’m the one who hired you.”

I stared at her for a moment.

Behind her, near the ballroom doors, a welcome board displayed the names of the couple getting married tonight.

Mark Lawson and Lucia Hart.

Mark Lawson.

My soon-to-be business partner.

Or at least, that had been the plan before tonight.

A small smile slowly formed on my lips.

This was becoming interesting.

“So just to be safe,” she continued, clearly thinking I needed instructions, “I’m Ariana. I’m twenty-five. The couple getting married today is my ex-boyfriend and my ex-best friend.”

That explained the anger.

“I told them I have a hot boyfriend now,” she added quickly. “So don’t embarrass me inside. We just need to act like a couple for the night. A few pecks maybe, nothing too intimate.”

She said all of this as if it was the most normal arrangement in the world.

“You hired me,” I repeated slowly.

She gave me an exasperated look.

“Yes. And I already paid half your f*e.”

Ah.

So somewhere in this hotel there was a man being paid to do exactly what I was about to do.

I found the idea strangely amusing.

What made it even more amusing was the way Ariana was staring at me, as if I were the confused one.

I wondered what her reaction would be if she ever discovered who I actually was.

The thought alone was entertaining enough.

“Sure,” I said lightly. “Let’s go.”

Her expression immediately brightened.

“Perfect.”

She slipped her arm through mine and began walking toward the ballroom again.

For a moment, I noticed the faint scent around her—something light and natural. Not the overwhelming perfume most people here were wearing.

It suited her.

We stepped inside the ballroom together.

Ariana looked around the room with visible disapproval.

“So tacky,” she muttered under her breath. “Extra tacky.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You’re very honest about your opinions.”

She shrugged.

“Someone has to be.”

Then she paused suddenly.

“Oh right,” she said. “We didn’t talk about you.”

She looked up at me curiously.

“What’s your name?”

I smiled slightly.

“Well, since you hired me,” I said, “why don’t you pick one?”

She actually considered it.

Then she pulled her phone out of her purse.

From the corner of my eye, I watched her open the G****e app and type something.

Most eligible man in Ford City.

I almost laughed.

She clearly hadn’t planned this very well.

Not that it mattered. My name rarely appeared in public searches, and most people wouldn’t recognize my face anyway.

Ariana scanned the results for a moment before nodding proudly.

“For tonight,” she declared, “you’ll be Adrian Sterling.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her confidence.

“Thank you,” I said playfully. “That’s a wonderful name.”

She waved her hand dismissively.

“It makes sense,” she said. “Ariana and Adrian. Sounds like a perfect match.”

Before I could respond, a voice interrupted us.

“Ariana?”

We both turned.

A woman in an elegant white gown stood a few steps away, surrounded by several bridesmaids.

Lucia.

The bride.

Her smile was warm and polite, but her eyes quickly moved to Ariana’s arm linked with mine.

“Ariana,” she repeated. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” Ariana replied smoothly.

Lucia’s gaze shifted toward me.

“And this must be the mysterious boyfriend.”

“Yes,” Ariana said. “This is Adrian.”

Lucia extended her hand.

“Lucia.”

“Congratulations,” I said.

She studied my face for a second longer than necessary, as if trying to remember something.

Then she turned back to Ariana.

“We weren’t sure you would actually show up,” she said lightly.

Ariana smiled sweetly.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this.”

Lucia’s bridesmaids exchanged curious looks.

“You didn’t tell us he was this handsome,” one of them said.

Another laughed. “Seriously, Ariana, where were you hiding him?”

“Work keeps him busy,” Ariana replied calmly.

Lucia nodded slowly.

“Well,” she said, “I hope you enjoy the ceremony.”

She turned and walked away with the bridesmaids.

Ariana exhaled quietly.

“She’s still the same,” she muttered.

Across the ballroom, a man stood near the front row speaking with guests.

Mark Lawson.

Ariana followed my gaze.

Her expression hardened.

“So that’s him,” I said.

“Yes.”

She straightened her shoulders.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s do this.”

Before we could move, another voice called out.

“Ariana?”

A woman named Cassy approached us with two other guests.

“Well,” she said, looking me up and down, “I see the boyfriend finally arrived.”

Ariana smiled.

“I told you he would.”

Cassy folded her arms.

“You also said he was hot,” she said. “I thought you were exaggerating.”

Ariana tugged my arm gently.

“We should sit,” she said.

As we walked toward the seats, I noticed someone standing near the ballroom entrance.

A tall man in a suit.

He looked around the room anxiously before his eyes landed on Ariana.

Then on me.

Shock spread across his face.

Ah.

The real actor.

Ariana leaned closer to me and whispered, “Remember, act natural.”

I glanced at the man again before smiling slightly.

“Oh,” I said quietly.

“I will.”