Parties And Pretenses

Willa

I’m scanning the price tags of the dresses Icen is choosing. They are draped over his arm like heavy flags, each one shimmering with a price tag that could cover my rent for a year. The silk was slick, the beading bright. My mind immediately did the terrible math, and a strange, cold heaviness drops straight into my stomach. I am not a whore.

The idea of him buying my participation in this sham scratches something painful inside me, digging into that deep, messy fear of being owned. This was supposed to be a chaos partnership, not a transaction.

I grab his wrist, my fingers closing hard around the cold metal of his watch. “Thank you, but we’re looking for something else.”

I pulled him toward the exit. We step out of the shop, and the pressure on my chest finally loosens, replaced by the hot, loud air outside.

“Why? We can look somewhere else. There are more expensive shops down this street.” His dazzling face is framed with panic, his blue eyes wide and confused, making him look less like a sharp rich guy and more like a lost kid.

I place my palm against his cheek, the stubble on his sharp jaw rough against my skin. “You cannot buy me through this.”

“Willa, I’m not buying you. Not at all. I just want you to look the part. I want Edward and Andy to realize what I found—not what I purchased.” He was trying to justify it, but the money was too loud.

A child’s cry slices through our conversation, sharp and immediate. I looked over and saw a little girl on the street with her mother, their bag of fruits split open and rolling everywhere. Red apples and oranges scattered across the hot asphalt.

I didn't hesitate. I drop his wrist and rush forward, picking up everything I can while cars honk like it’s the end of the world.

I glance back—only to see Icen frozen like a malfunctioning robot, standing absolutely still, his arms still loaded with silk. He looked completely out of place, a statue carved from wealth, watching the mess unfold.

“Hey! You better help!” I shout, my voice sharp and loud.

That snaps him out of it. He bends, gathering fallen apples with stiff determination. He moved like his joints hurt, unused to bending.

“Oh, thank you so much,” the mother says, her voice thick with relief.

“Don’t cry. You’re so pretty,” I tell the little girl with a high-five. The girl’s face instantly brightened.

“Here,” the lady says, giving me two crisp, red apples.

I wave as they leave, a feeling of genuine satisfaction settling in my chest. And when I turn back, Icen is gawking at me like I just performed witchcraft.

“What?” I ask, wiping my hands on my loose pants.

His blue eyes light up like stars, softening around the edges. “You’re… something else.”

His stare is too intense. Too focused. It sends dirty, reckless thoughts flooding into my head—thoughts involving him naked, my hands everywhere, and way more than just licking his torso—

“Willa!” he snaps, his voice low and urgent, breaking the connection.

One second I’m teasing him, next my mind is wandering in the gutter with my sinful thoughts in a public place. I must have been staring right back at him with a look of pure horniness.

“Hmm?” My brain is absolutely not functioning.

“I said I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to imagine buying the woman I love something to wear.” He watched my face carefully.

Imagine. Sure. He meant the woman he wishes he loved.

But the only word echoing inside me is love. How unfair life is. How perfect everything would be if he actually loved me.

“Okay,” I breathe. “Let’s go back.”

We did find a dress—a sleek, floor-length black sheath. It clung in all the right places. As I slipped it on, I envy men—their lives don’t require hours transforming themselves into presentable humans.

Hours later, walking up the hotel stairs in these glass shoes feels like torture. My arches were screaming. One wrong step and I’m gone.

I catch a glint on Icen’s handsome face as he watches me carefully.

Does he like what he sees?

“You look…” He struggles, his tongue grazing his lower lip again.

“Like a normal person?” I supplied.

“Mine.” The word was barely a breath, a rough sound. His tongue grazes his lower lip again, and this time the hunger in his ocean-blue eyes was impossible to ignore. It was primal, and it darkened the blue like a storm approaching.

My blood ignites. The air around us became thick and hot. The tension pulls tight between us like a wire ready to snap.

“I’m a pot of nerves,” I admit.

“Just be yourself. You’ll do great.” His hand came up to the small of my back, a solid, grounding weight that both comforted and set my skin on fire.

By the time we reach the ballroom door, my nerves are a mess again, singing with adrenaline. When it opens, the world shifts into lights and music.

I tighten my grip and link my arm through his as we enter the welcome wedding party.

He looks breathtaking in his navy suit—his hair was pushed to the side, and his jawline was sharp enough to kill someone. My prince charming, and I’m… his temporary Cinderella.

Our worlds should never touch. Yet here I am, craving a place in his.

Reality hits like a tidal wave. It crashes, cruel and loud.

I have no fairy godmother. Only myself to get me through this.

It took less than two minutes for the first skirmish.

“Is this Willa?” A tall blonde woman with a perfect, icy smile glided toward us. Her voice was dipped in annoyance.

Icen tightened his grip on my arm. “Andy, this is my fiancée, Willa.”

Andy. The cheating ex. She lifted a brow, her eyes raking over me. I leaned in as if to kiss her cheek and whispered—

“Bitch.”

Icen huffs beside me, a sharp, choked sound.

“What was that, Andy?” Edward, Icen’s smarmy stepbrother, appeared at Andy’s shoulder, pretending he’s the perfect sibling.