Chapter 3: The First Public Appearance

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Aurora's new bedroom, casting a soft glow over the luxurious space. She stretched, momentarily disoriented, before the reality of her situation settled in. Today was the day she and Damian would debut as a couple at the black-tie charity gala.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, revealing a petite woman with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Miss Lane. I'm Elise, your stylist for today."

Aurora sat up, surprised. "Stylist?"

Elise nodded, wheeling in a rack adorned with exquisite gowns. "Mr. Blackwell insisted on providing options for this evening's event."

Aurora's fingers grazed the fabrics—silk, satin, chiffon—in hues ranging from classic black to deep emerald. Each dress was more stunning than the last.

Hours later, after fittings, makeup, and hair styling, Aurora barely recognized herself. She chose a floor-length, off-the-shoulder emerald gown that complemented her complexion, paired with understated diamond earrings and a matching bracelet. Her hair was styled in soft waves, cascading down her back.

As she descended the grand staircase of Damian's penthouse, her heart pounded like a drum in her chest. She gripped the railing for support, silently cursing her trembling hands.

And then she saw him.

Damian stood at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo that looked like it was made just for him. His dark hair was styled perfectly, his sharp jawline clean-shaven, and those piercing eyes—watching her every step like a predator stalking its prey.

For a moment, Aurora forgot how to breathe.

Damian's eyes darkened as they raked over her body, lingering on the way the emerald dress hugged her curves.

"Stunning," he murmured when she reached the final step, his voice low and rougher than usual.

Aurora swallowed hard, forcing herself to hold his gaze. "You clean up well too."

A smirk curled his lips. "Careful, sweetheart. That almost sounded like a compliment."

She rolled her eyes, trying to mask the flutter in her stomach. "Don’t get used to it."

Damian chuckled, offering his arm. "Ready to play my perfect fiancée?"

Her fingers hesitated before sliding into the crook of his arm. The contact sent a spark through her, and from the smug look on his face, Damian felt it too.

As they rode down the private elevator to the car waiting below, Aurora stared at their reflection in the mirrored walls. They looked perfect together—like the power couple everyone would expect.

But inside, she felt like a fraud.

"Just remember," Damian said softly, leaning close to her ear as the elevator doors slid open, "every eye will be on us tonight. Especially the board members I’m trying to impress. So smile, laugh, and if I kiss you... you kiss me back."

Her heart skipped a beat. "I’m not kissing you."

Damian’s smirk was dangerous, full of challenge. "We’ll see."

---

The charity gala was held in a glittering ballroom filled with the city's elite. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and the soft hum of classical music floated in the air.

As soon as they entered, all heads turned.

Aurora could feel the weight of the stares, the whispers. And then Damian’s hand slipped around her waist, pulling her close.

"You’re doing great," he murmured, his breath brushing her temple.

She stiffened but forced a smile as he led her further into the room.

Within minutes, they were swarmed by businessmen and socialites. Damian was in his element—charming, confident, and commanding. And Aurora? She played her part, laughing softly when needed, smiling sweetly, nodding at introductions.

But every time Damian touched her—whether it was the casual hand at her back or brushing a kiss to her temple—her pulse would race uncontrollably.

As the night wore on, she found herself dragged into conversation with a group of wealthy wives, while Damian disappeared with some of the men.

"So, how long have you and Damian been together?" one woman asked, her eyes sharp and assessing.

Aurora smiled tightly. "Almost six months."

"And you're already engaged?" another chimed in, clearly skeptical.

Aurora’s heart pounded. "When you know, you know," she replied smoothly, though her throat felt dry.

The women exchanged looks, as if silently judging her answer.

Aurora was saved from their scrutiny when Damian suddenly appeared at her side, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her against him.

"Excuse me, ladies. I’m stealing my fiancée for a dance."

Without waiting for a reply, he led her onto the dance floor, turning her to face him as the music swelled into a slow, romantic melody.

"You looked like you needed rescuing," he murmured, his hand sliding to her lower back.

Aurora glared up at him, but her heart was beating so fast she was sure he could feel it. "Don't think that makes you my hero."

He smirked. "Oh, sweetheart, I’m no hero. But right now, I’m the only thing standing between you and their gossip."

As they moved together, bodies swaying in rhythm to the music, Damian leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear.

"You’re playing the role beautifully," he whispered. "Almost makes me believe you like me."

Aurora’s cheeks burned. "You wish."

Damian’s hand tightened slightly on her waist, pulling her closer so that every inch of her was pressed against him.

His eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, the air between them felt charged, electric.

"You’re going to have to do better than that," he murmured, his voice rougher now. "Because if anyone sees through us, this deal falls apart. And I don’t intend to lose."

Aurora swallowed hard, her resolve wavering.

"So what do you want, Damian?" she asked softly, searching his eyes. "What’s really at stake for you in this deal?"

Damian's expression flickered, something unreadable passing through his eyes. But before he could answer, a photographer appeared out of nowhere.

"Mr. Blackwell, Miss Lane! Smile for the camera!"

Damian's hand cupped Aurora’s face as he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

She gasped against his mouth, caught off guard—but the flash of the camera forced her to react.

Her hands slid to his chest as she kissed him back, her mind swirling in a mix of panic and something she couldn’t quite name.

When he finally pulled away, Damian's eyes were dark and searching.

"See, sweetheart?" he whispered. "Not so hard to pretend, is it?"

Aurora's breath caught in her throat as he led her off the dance floor, leaving her wondering what exactly she had gotten herself into—because if every kiss felt like that... she might not be able to tell where the lies ended and the truth began.

Aurora followed Damian off the dance floor, her mind still spinning from the kiss — from the way his lips had claimed hers so convincingly, as though it wasn’t an act at all.

"Are you always that... convincing?" she muttered, trying to sound unaffected, but her voice came out softer, breathier than she intended.

Damian glanced down at her, a small, satisfied smirk curling at the edge of his lips. "I told you we'd have to sell it."

"Right," she said, swallowing hard. "Selling it."

But her lips still tingled from his kiss, and it unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

"Come on," Damian said, placing a steady hand on her lower back. "There are a few more people I need to impress tonight. And since you're my future wife, you're coming with me."

Aurora forced a polite smile as he led her through the crowd, her body hyper-aware of his touch.

They stopped in front of a tall man in a navy suit and a woman dripping in diamonds.

"Ah, Damian," the man greeted warmly, shaking his hand. "And this must be the fiancée we’ve heard so much about."

Damian's hand gently squeezed her waist as he pulled her closer. "Yes, this is Aurora Lane. Aurora, meet Richard Caldwell, one of the board members of Blackwell Enterprises, and his wife, Elaine."

Aurora smiled gracefully, even as her heart pounded. "It's a pleasure to meet you both."

Elaine gave her a once-over, her eyes sharp and evaluating. "Damian has always been such a private man. We were beginning to wonder if he’d ever settle down."

Damian chuckled softly, glancing at Aurora with a look that made her stomach tighten. "Sometimes, the right person comes along when you least expect it."

Aurora blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone — as if, for a moment, he believed his own lie.

"Well," Richard said with a knowing smile, "you certainly make a striking couple. I trust we'll see you both at the company's upcoming charity auction?"

"Of course," Damian replied smoothly. "Aurora wouldn’t miss it."

"Wonderful," Elaine chimed in, though Aurora could still feel her critical gaze. "We’ll be watching."

As they moved on, Aurora exhaled sharply. "We’ll be watching," she mocked under her breath. "Like vultures."

Damian smirked, clearly amused. "Welcome to my world, sweetheart."

She turned to him, her eyes narrowed. "Do they always look at women like that? Like they're inspecting merchandise?"

His jaw ticked slightly, but his expression remained smooth. "They’re judging whether you’re good enough for me. Whether you can play their game."

Aurora bristled. "And what if I can’t?"

Damian stopped, turning to face her fully, his gaze intense. "Then we both lose."

Something in his voice made her pause. It wasn’t just about a company. There was more to this — something he wasn’t telling her.

Before she could press him, Damian reached up to brush a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, the touch far too gentle for the man she thought she knew.

"Smile, sweetheart," he whispered, his fingers lingering near her cheek for a heartbeat longer than necessary. "They're still watching."

Aurora forced a smile, though her mind was anything but calm.

As the night dragged on, the crowd thinned, and soon they were standing near one of the tall windows overlooking the city skyline.

"Why are you really doing this?" she asked suddenly, her voice quiet but sharp enough to cut through the silence between them.

Damian glanced at her, something dark flickering in his eyes. "I told you. It’s business."

Aurora shook her head. "No. There's more. I see it in your eyes, Damian. You need this marriage. But why?"

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, she thought he might actually open up.

But then he smirked, deflecting as always. "Maybe I just enjoy having a beautiful woman on my arm."

Aurora stared at him, her heart pounding, knowing he was hiding something.

"You’re impossible," she muttered, turning away.

Damian reached out, catching her wrist gently but firmly.

"Maybe," he murmured, stepping closer. "But you're tied to me now, Aurora. Whether you like it or not."

Their eyes locked, the tension between them thick and palpable.

Before she could respond, another guest approached, shattering the moment.

"Damian, Aurora," the woman gushed. "You two are the talk of the night!"

Damian’s hand slid around Aurora’s waist again, pulling her tightly to his side, as though she belonged there.

"Good," he said smoothly. "We aim to please."

Aurora forced another smile, but her thoughts were a whirlwind.

As the gala finally wound down, and they walked out to the waiting car, Damian leaned down, his lips brushing her ear.

"You did well tonight," he murmured, a hint of genuine admiration in his voice. "Almost like you were made for this world."

She glanced up at him, her heart conflicted.

"I’m not sure if that’s a compliment," she said quietly.

He smirked, opening the car door for her. "Take it however you want."

As she slid into the car and Damian joined her, the door shutting them into their own little world, Aurora realized one thing:

For all her determination to keep her walls up, Damian Blackwell was chipping away at them far faster than she was ready for.

And if she wasn’t careful, she might not make it out of this fake engagement with her heart intact.