5.

Lucien's POV

"What was that supposed to mean?"

I remained composed, my expression the exact look Rafael alongside my PR team had drilled into me for tonight; Part possessive alpha male, part lovesick fool who couldn’t live without his woman. A man reclaiming what was his after being publicly dumped.

If only she would stop looking at me like she wanted to stab me with the nearest champagne flute.

"What don’t you understand, Ms. Sterling?" I talked lowly, aware of the curious glances circling us.

"Why the hell you kissed me, for starters." She spat the words, not attempting to hide her disdain.

I grabbed her hand before she could pull away, bringing it slowly to my face. Her fingers were stiff, but I pressed them against my cheek anyway, planting a kiss on her palm. Her skin smelled faintly of vanilla.

"Is it a crime to kiss my girlfriend in public?" I asked, loud enough for nearby eavesdroppers to hear.

Her green eyes glinted fiercely, and her fingers twitched against my face. I leaned in until my lips brushed the shell of her ear.

"You better play along before I expose who you really are."

Frankly, I didn’t know anything other than the few details my PR head had told me. I hadn’t expected her little cafeteria stunt to blow up like it did.

A masterful gold digger or a strategic plant sent to destroy me; I knew for sure she was one of either.

Rumors of me and Catherine Moretti resurfacing three weeks after we launched our fintech app, my stock dropping eight percent in three days, surprise inspections at my kitchen, and an ordinary kitchen worker boldly claiming to be my girlfriend... all within a week.

Coincidences like that don’t exist in my world. Someone was pulling strings, and I intend to find out who and use it to my advantage, starting with the fiery redhead in front of me.

I pulled back, expecting to see some compliance in her expression. Instead, I was met with the same murderous glare.

"Lucien! Oh my God, you’re loved up again!" A woman in a shimmering gold dress approached us, her voice bubbly across the room. Jessica Bloom, fashion designer and notorious gossip.

Jessica turned to Camila, eyes roving over her dress. "Wow! You are absolutely stunning, dear. Where has Lucien been hiding you?"

"She is beautiful, isn’t she?" I slid my arm around Camila's tensed waist.

"How did you two meet? It must be a wonderful story."

"He was rude to an employee, so I got up from my table and poured my coffee all over him," Camila blurted out before I could stop her.

That wasn’t what had happened, obviously, but the boldness of her words caught me off guard. She was going to be harder to control. Jessica laughed awkwardly, clearly unsure if this was some private joke.

"Well, they say the path to true love never runs smooth. You two are adorable." She eyed me before backing away.

Once she was gone, I leaned close to Camila again.

"Could you just behave for an hour before we talk?

She gave me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "I am behaving."

For the rest of the night, she maintained her frigid demeanor, ignoring my subtle warnings—a gentle squeeze of her hand, an occasional press of my fingers against the bare skin of her back. By the time we were ready to leave, my patience had worn thin.

Holding her wrist, I guided her through the crowd of reporters, ignoring their shouted questions as we entered into the waiting car. The moment the door closed, I loosened my tie with a sharp yank, tossing it aside.

"What the hell?" she snapped, shoving my tie away from her.

"I specifically told you to behave. You spent the entire night acting like you’d rather be anywhere else but with me. That's not an image I want to feed to the public." I ran a hand through my hair, feeling it fall out of its perfect styling.

I needed the pictures to come out in a way the media would find "cute". She didn't smile, not once, since I joined her in the ballroom.

"I would rather be anywhere else but with you," she fired back, crossing her arms. "What, did you expect me to fawn all over you? Over a god-damned abuser?"

My body jerked as if she'd struck me across the face. "What did you just call me?"

"Are you gonna deny it?" Her eyes flared with sharp defiance. "That Catherine Moretti wasn't abused by you?"

I turned to face her fully. So that was what this was about. She believed the rumors about me, and that's why she was so hostile.

Now It's certain; If she was planted to destroy me, then it must be for Catherine Moretti.

Are they sisters? Best friends?

"I know you wanted my attention, Miss Sterling, and now you have it," I changed the topic. "All of it."

"Exactly. And now I’d sue you for kissing me without my consent," she threatened.

"And I’d counter-sue for defamation," I leaned forward.

She went quiet, her throat bobbing a little as she swallowed hard.

"Now, let’s talk. There's a Halo over your head right now… and I need it."

"Straightforward english, no?"

"I'm saying you are going to be my girlfriend."

"And what do I get in exchange?" She raised an eyebrow.

I fell silent, leaning back against the leather seat. My index finger dragged slowly across my lower lip as I studied her. The question wasn’t what I expected. She wasn’t fighting me, not refusing outright. She was negotiating.

"I just figured you out, Camila Sterling." I let a small smile play at the corners of my mouth. "This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it?"

She is just a golddigger. No one would be stupid enough to send an amateur like her to 'destroy' me.

Her defiant mask slipped momentarily as something close to panic danced across her face. Interesting. Then just as quickly, that iron wall came slamming back down.

"And what exactly is it that I want, Mr. Hayes?" she asked, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other.

"Money. Fame. You're a gold digger, plain and simple. The question is whether you're smart enough to recognize when you've won."

"Congratulations," She laughed, the sound lacking any warmth. "You've cracked the code. Gold star for the billionaire."

I studied her face, searching for more tells that would confirm my theory. Most people crumbled under my scrutiny, but she didn't even blink.

"You don't know the kind of mess you created, right? My PR team has been working overtime. Have you seen the hashtags? There are meme compilations of your little cafeteria stunt set to soundtracks mocking me."

"Aw, I'm flattered. That's the exact reaction I was chasing," she said, examining her nails with fake interest. "Public mockery."

The car slowed to a stop at a red light, casting her face in crimson. It suited her, this woman who'd thrown my carefully constructed world into chaos.

"Who are you really?" I pressed, keeping my voice controlled despite my growing irritation.

"Just someone that saw an opportunity and took it." She tilted her head. "Isn't that what you would do, Lucien? Take what you want without asking?"

"You expect me to believe this was all your idea? That you just walked into Hayes Corp and decided to claim you were my girlfriend on a whim?"

"Believe whatever you want," her casual little shrug made my jaw clench. "But here we are. You need my halo, as you put it. And maybe I need something from you."

The fact that she was right irritated me more than anything else. I was supposed to fake-date this cheap opportunity chaser?

I remembered Rafael's words; the media loved Camila's energy when dealing with Greg, they loved that I was dating a "simple" girl, and even more, they praised her for dumping me. We have to publicly get back together to down the news of me abusing that bitch Moretti.

It would be good for my image, my new app, and regain the board's confidence in me before we roll out the new product we've been working on. I have never done something like this in the name of business, but I'd do literally anything if it benefits my business in one way or another.

"Name your price."