Chapter 7

Three days into their cohabitation, Sophia learned that Ethan Cross was a creature of rigid habits. He woke at 5:30 AM precisely, worked out for exactly one hour, showered with military efficiency, and consumed his breakfast always the same protein shake and fruit—while reading financial reports on his tablet.

She discovered this because she'd been awake since 4 AM, too nervous about their first public appearance to sleep.

Tonight was the Pemberton Foundation Gala, a charity event that would serve as their debut as Manhattan's newest power couple. According to the briefing materials Ethan had given her, everyone who mattered would be there including several business associates who might report back to Harrison Blackwell and Isabella.

"You're up early," Ethan said, appearing in the kitchen doorway at 6:45. His hair was still damp from his shower, and he wore the kind of perfectly tailored suit that made her mouth go dry.

"Couldn't sleep." Sophia clutched her coffee mug like a lifeline. "I keep thinking about tonight."

"Second thoughts?"

"Third and fourth thoughts." She turned to face him fully, noting the way his gaze traveled appreciatively over her silk pajamas another gift from Victoria. "What if I mess this up? What if people see right through me?"

Ethan moved closer, his expression serious. "They won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you're not pretending to be someone else, Sophia. You're just being the best version of yourself." He reached out, his fingers grazing her wrist in a touch so light she might have imagined it. "Besides, I'll be right there with you."

The simple reassurance shouldn't have affected her so much, but it did. Something in his voice, the steady certainty of his presence, made her breathing easier.

"What's our story?" she asked. "How did we meet? How long have we been dating?"

"We met at a charity auction six months ago. You were there representing your event planning company, I was a reluctant attendee. You bid on a weekend in the Hamptons that I wanted, we got into a bidding war, and I was so impressed by your determination that I asked you to dinner."

"And then?"

His smile was slow, devastating. "And then I fell hard for a woman who wasn't impressed by my money or intimidated by my reputation. A woman who saw through all my carefully constructed walls to the man underneath."

The way he said it, with such conviction and tenderness, made Sophia's heart skip. For a moment, she could almost believe it was real.

"That's... a good story," she managed.

"The best lies are mostly truth." His eyes held hers for a long moment before he stepped back. "Victoria will be here at four to help you get ready. I'll pick you up at seven."

"Pick me up? We live in the same apartment."

"Tonight, I'm courting you. That means I arrive at your door with flowers, escort you to the car, and treat you like you're the most precious thing in my world." His voice dropped to that intimate whisper that made her pulse race. "Can you handle that?"

Looking into his gray eyes, seeing the challenge and something deeper that he was trying to hide, Sophia lifted her chin. "Can you?"

His laugh was rich with appreciation. "I guess we'll find out."

At precisely seven o'clock, there was a knock on her bedroom door. Sophia took one last look in the mirror, barely recognizing herself. Victoria had worked magic, transforming her into someone who belonged in the pages of Vogue. The midnight blue gown hugged her curves like it had been made for her body alone, the sapphire jewelry at her throat and ears catching the light with every movement.

She opened the door to find Ethan holding a bouquet of white roses, his expression freezing when he saw her.

"Jesus," he breathed, his gaze traveling slowly from her perfectly styled hair to her silver heels and back again. "You're..."

"What?"

"Perfect." The word came out rough, honest, and completely unguarded. "You're absolutely perfect."

Heat bloomed in her cheeks as he handed her the flowers, his fingers lingering over hers. He looked devastating in his black tuxedo, every inch the powerful billionaire who graced magazine covers and boardroom negotiations.

"You clean up pretty well yourself," she said.

"These are for your mother," he said, producing a second, smaller bouquet of pink roses. "I thought she might like to see you off."

The thoughtfulness caught Sophia off guard. Elena was having a good day, alert and eager to see them dressed for their big night. When Ethan presented her with the flowers and told her how beautiful her daughter looked, Elena's eyes filled with tears.

"You take care of my girl," she said, gripping his hand with surprising strength.

"I will," he promised, and something in his voice made Sophia believe he meant it.

The drive to the Metropolitan Museum was a blur of city lights and nervous energy. Ethan sat beside her in the back of the limousine, close enough that she could smell his cologne, far enough that they weren't touching. The space between them crackled with tension.

"Remember," he said as they approached the museum, "we're madly in love. You can't keep your hands off me, and I'm completely besotted with you."

"Right. Madly in love." She smoothed her skirt with trembling hands. "Any other acting tips?"

"Don't act. Just... be yourself. The woman who cooked for me the other night, who challenges me and surprises me and makes me laugh." His hand covered hers, warm and steady. "That woman could make any man fall in love with her."

Before she could process the implications of that statement, they were pulling up to the red carpet. Photographers lined the steps of the museum, their cameras flashing like lightning as celebrities and socialites posed for pictures.

"Ready?" Ethan asked.

No. Absolutely not. "Yes."

The moment they stepped out of the car, the cameras went wild. Ethan's arm came around her waist, pulling her close against his side, and Sophia was grateful for the solid warmth of him as they navigated the chaos.

"Ethan! Who's your date?" a photographer called out.

"Ethan! Is this the new girlfriend?"

"What's your name, miss?"

Ethan stopped halfway up the steps, turning slightly so the cameras could capture them together. His arm tightened around her waist as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Smile like you're madly in love with me," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin.

It wasn't hard. With his arm around her, his body pressed against hers, his scent surrounding her, smiling came naturally. What was hard was remembering that this was all an act.

"Mr. Cross!" A reporter pushed forward. "Can you tell us about your beautiful companion?"

Ethan's smile was radiant as he looked down at Sophia. "This is Sophia Martinez, the woman who's turned my entire world upside down."

"How long have you been dating?"

"Six months," Sophia said, finding her voice. "Though it feels like I've been waiting for him my whole life."

The words came out more honestly than she'd intended, and she saw something flicker in Ethan's eyes surprise, maybe, or something deeper.

"Are you planning to make it official?" another reporter called out.

Ethan's gaze never left Sophia's face. "When you find someone this extraordinary, you don't let them get away."

Inside the museum, the gala was in full swing. The Temple of Dendur had been transformed into an elegant dining space, with round tables draped in white linen and centerpieces of cascading orchids. The guest list read like a who's who of Manhattan society politicians, celebrities, titans of industry, and old money families whose names graced buildings throughout the city.

"You're doing beautifully," Ethan murmured as they made their way through the crowd, stopping to greet acquaintances and business associates.

Everyone wanted to meet the woman who'd captured Ethan Cross's attention. Sophia found herself shaking hands with hedge fund managers, art collectors, and society wives who looked at her with barely concealed curiosity. Through it all, Ethan stayed close, his hand resting possessively on her lower back, his attention focused on her as if she were the only person in the room.

"Ethan Cross, as I live and breathe."

The voice made Ethan's entire body tense. Sophia turned to see a tall, elegant woman approaching with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She was beautiful in the way that money could buy perfect features, flawless skin, and clothing that cost more than most people's cars.

Isabella Whitmore.

"Isabella." Ethan's voice was carefully neutral. "I heard congratulations are in order."

"Thank you." Isabella's gaze shifted to Sophia, and the assessment was immediate and thorough. "And who is this lovely creature?"

"Sophia Martinez," Ethan said, his arm sliding around Sophia's waist. "My fiancée."

The word hit the crowd around them like a bombshell. Sophia felt eyes turning their way, conversations pausing, and she realized that Ethan had just made their fake engagement very publicly real.

Isabella's composure slipped for just a moment, her smile faltering before snapping back into place. "How wonderful. I had no idea you were engaged."

"It's recent," Sophia said, finding her voice and her courage. "Very recent."

"Well." Isabella's laugh was like ice. "How romantic. And where did you two meet?"

As Ethan launched into their rehearsed story, Sophia studied the woman who'd broken his heart. Isabella was undeniably beautiful, but there was something cold about her, something calculating in the way she listened and responded. When she looked at Ethan, there was no warmth, no affection only the assessing gaze of someone evaluating a lost opportunity.

"You'll have to come to my engagement party next week," Isabella said when Ethan finished their story. "I'd love for Harrison to meet you both."

"We wouldn't miss it," Ethan replied smoothly.

After Isabella glided away, Sophia leaned close to Ethan. "You called me your fiancée."

"Was that a problem?"

"You could have warned me."

"Where's the fun in that?" His smile was wicked. "Besides, did you see her face? That was worth the price of admission alone."

As the evening progressed, Sophia found herself relaxing into the role. Ethan was an attentive partner, bringing her champagne, introducing her to interesting people, and making her feel like she truly belonged in this rarefied world. When the band began playing and couples moved to the dance floor, he held out his hand.

"Shall we?"

Dancing with Ethan was like floating on air. He moved with the same controlled grace he brought to everything else, his hand warm and steady on her back as he guided her through the steps. Other couples swirled around them, but Sophia felt like they were alone, lost in their own private world.

"You're a good dancer," she said.

"Mandatory boarding school lessons. Along with proper table etiquette and which fork to use for the fish course."

"Sounds terrible."

"It was. But useful for occasions like this." He spun her out and back into his arms, the movement bringing her closer against his chest. "What about you? Where did you learn to dance?"

"YouTube videos and wedding receptions. I'm making this up as I go along."

His laugh rumbled through his chest. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Is that good or bad?"

"Dangerous." His voice was soft, intimate, meant only for her ears. "Everything about you is dangerous."

The song ended, but Ethan didn't release her immediately. They stood there on the dance floor, swaying slightly, lost in each other's eyes. For a moment, Sophia forgot about the cameras, the contracts, the revenge plot that had brought them together. For a moment, it felt real.

"We should" she started.

"I know." But he still didn't let her go.

It was only when another couple bumped into them that the spell broke. They made their way back to their table, where Sophia found herself fielding questions from the other guests about wedding plans, honeymoon destinations, and how she'd managed to capture the heart of Manhattan's most eligible bachelor.

"He makes it easy," she said, catching Ethan's eye across the table. "When someone looks at you like you're the most important thing in their world, falling in love is inevitable."

Later, as they said their goodbyes and made their way toward the exit, Ethan caught her hand.

"That was perfect," he said. "You were perfect."

"So were you. Very convincing performance."

"Was it a performance?"

The question caught her off guard. Before she could answer, they were outside, the cool night air a welcome relief after the warmth of the museum. The ride home was quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

It wasn't until they were back in the penthouse, standing in the hallway between their bedrooms, that the weight of the evening hit her. They'd done it. They'd convinced Manhattan society that they were madly in love, and tomorrow the pictures would be in every gossip column in the city.

"Thank you," Ethan said softly. "Tonight was... more than I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"A good performance. What I got was..." He paused, searching for words. "Something else entirely."

They stood there in the soft light of the hallway, still dressed in their formal wear, the air between them charged with everything they weren't saying. Sophia's heart hammered against her ribs as Ethan stepped closer.

"Sophia"

"Good night, Ethan," she said quickly, before he could say something that would change everything between them. "Sweet dreams."

She escaped into her room before she could do something foolish, like ask him to stay, like admit that tonight hadn't felt like acting at all.

But as she changed out of her gown and prepared for bed, she couldn't stop thinking about the way he'd looked at her on the dance floor, the way his voice had sounded when he called her dangerous.

Because if tonight was any indication, the most dangerous thing about their arrangement wasn't falling in love with Ethan Cross.

It was the growing suspicion that he might be falling for her too.