Public Humiliation

Amara had never felt so nervous in her life.

Lucian had informed her that morning that she would accompany him to a business dinner. No request. No option. Just a command.

“Remember your role,” he said while adjusting his tie, not sparing her a glance. “Smile when I say smile. Stay silent unless spoken to. Don’t embarrass me.”

Her chest tightened at his coldness, but she nodded anyway. She had no choice.

That evening, she followed him into the glittering banquet hall of an upscale hotel. The chandeliers sparkled above, and the air buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses. Powerful businessmen and their wives filled the tables, all eyes drawn to Lucian Hale the moment he entered.

He was magnetic, untouchable, every inch the ruthless billionaire they admired. And beside him was Amara—his plain, timid bride.

Whispers rose immediately.

“Is that his wife?”

“She looks so ordinary…”

“She won’t last long.”

The words stung, but Amara kept her head down, gripping her clutch tightly as Lucian led her to their seats.

Across the table sat her. The woman in crimson. The ex. Her smile was sharp as a blade, her gaze locked onto Amara like a predator sizing up prey.

“Well, Lucian,” she purred, her fingers toying with her wine glass. “You never fail to surprise me. This is your wife?”

Amara’s stomach twisted.

Lucian didn’t blink. “Yes,” he said coolly, slipping his arm around Amara’s shoulders for show. “This is Mrs. Hale.”

The ex tilted her head, her smile widening. “How… quaint. I didn’t know you liked strays.”

Laughter rippled around the table. Amara’s cheeks burned. She wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor.

Lucian’s grip on her shoulder tightened slightly, a silent warning: Don’t react.

But something inside Amara snapped.

Her heart pounded, her palms sweaty, but she lifted her chin. Her voice was soft but steady as she said, “Better a stray than a snake.”

The table went silent.

Gasps echoed. Wine glasses froze in midair.

The ex’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

Lucian’s gaze flicked down at Amara, surprise flashing in his dark eyes. For a brief second, the corner of his lips curved—almost a smirk.

The rest of the dinner passed in tense silence. Amara barely tasted the food, her heart racing from the courage that had slipped out of her.

When it was finally over, Lucian led her back to the car. His face was unreadable, his silence suffocating.

The moment they stepped inside the mansion, he closed the door with a sharp click.

Amara turned, startled, only to find him inches away, his tall frame caging her against the wall.

His eyes burned into hers, dark and intense.

“Who gave you the courage to speak like that?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Amara’s breath caught. Her heart raced as his face hovered close, his scent intoxicating, his presence overwhelming.

She opened her mouth to answer, but no words came.