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I was really doing this.

I paced back and forth in the anteroom of Rosemont Hotel's ballroom, one of the most luxurious places in the city, trying to convince myself this was a good idea. Hiring a gigolo to pretend to be my fiancé? God forgive me, but I had no choice.

My ex-fiancé was about to get married. And not to just anyone… He was marrying my ex–best friend. Yeah, I got double-betrayed in some "buy one, get one free" package deal I didn't even know I'd signed up for. If there were a loyalty program for idiots, I'd already have enough points to cash in for a slap in the face and a one-way ticket straight to rock bottom.

Ignore the wedding? That was what I wanted. But Elise made a point of calling me personally! Clearly she wanted to laugh at me, to humiliate me. But I couldn't let her win. So I said I'd go. What was worse was I had said I'd go with my insanely hot, super-rich fiancé.

"Rich?" She laughed, like she didn't believe me.

"Heir to one of the biggest companies in the country," I lied.

"I can't wait to meet him."

By the next day, the news had already spread. Not even twenty-four hours had passed since the invitation arrived, and somehow all our mutual friends already knew I was going. And worse: that I'd be bringing my millionaire fiancé.

Now, on top of being forced to show up, they were expecting a show. If there had been any chance of backing out before, there wasn't anymore. I had to go. But if I was going, I couldn't show up alone, humiliated, and defeated. I had to pretend to be someone I wasn't.

Pretending was practically my second job when it came to my ex. I'd been doing it for years. Pretending not to notice when he came home with another woman's perfume clinging to his clothes. Pretending not to catch the lame excuses, the glances between him and Elise when they thought I wasn't looking.

I could still remember the dress I was wearing, the muffled sound of rain outside, the heavy silence in Elise's apartment when I showed up without warning. My heart was already pounding when I pushed open the half-closed door and saw them.

The man who was supposed to be the love of my life, lying on the couch between my best friend's legs.

"Alex?"

They both froze. He just sighed and let out a nasal laugh, without a shred of remorse. "Zoey… This wasn't going to last anyway."

My chest tightened. "What…?"

"Zoey, honestly… you've always been so boring," Elise said.

My head snapped toward her.

She gave me a smug little smile, twirling her hair with disdain. "You've always tried so hard to be perfect. The perfect girlfriend, the perfect friend, the reliable one. But let's face it. You were never anything special."

The blow landed squarely, straight to my soul. My best friend. My fiancé. Both laughing in my face.

"No one's ever going to choose someone like you, Zoey," Elise pressed on, merciless. "You're only good for playing a supporting role in other people's lives."

That was the moment I knew. I had never been the woman Alex wanted. And maybe I'd never be the woman anyone wanted.

So, if I couldn't win at life, at least I would win at appearances.

My phone buzzed, and I quickly grabbed it to read the message. [I'm running late, but I'm on my way.]

I rolled my eyes. For what I had paid, he really shouldn't be making rookie mistakes like this.

"Zoey? Aren't you coming in?"

Amanda, one of my ex–college friends, scanned me from head to toe, like she was expecting my fiancé to magically appear out of thin air any second. "My fiancé's on his way. I'll see you inside."

Crap, where was he?

Before I could send another message, my phone died. I'd been working all day and didn't have time to charge it before coming here. "Oh, great! Now if something goes wrong, I'm completely screwed."

Minutes later, he arrived.

And… Oh. My. God.

The man was sin walking on two legs. He was tall, easily 6'3". His body was sculpted to perfection, wrapped in a perfectly tailored black suit that screamed power. His presence was so intense it felt like the air around him trembled.

His dark brown hair was slightly tousled, that intentional kind of mess only insanely attractive men could pull off without looking sloppy. His beard was neatly trimmed, his features sharp and commanding, and his piercing gray-blue eyes froze me in place for a few seconds.

I'd only seen full-body photos when I picked him. And if those were good, his face was even better.

My brain wiped clean of all other thoughts, and my feet moved on their own. Before he could say a word, I grabbed his arm tight and pulled him close. "You're late!" I snapped.

He frowned, clearly confused, but didn't pull away. "Excuse me?"

"No time!" I pressed on, ignoring the doubt in his tone. "Quick recap: my name is Zoey Bennett, I'm twenty-six, and my ex-fiancé and my ex–best friend are getting married. And I need an absurdly hot man who can pretend to be an insanely rich heir by my side so I don't look like a total failure."

The man blinked, as if processing each word slowly. He was clearly trying not to laugh. "Right… and this hot, rich man would be…?"

"You, obviously." I made a face. "That's what I'm paying you for. And paying you well, by the way."

He tilted his head, now looking more amused than confused.

"So… I'm getting paid?"

I huffed.

"Are you crazy or what? Never mind, I don't need you to be smart. I need you to be hot, smile nicely, and pretend to love me for one night. A few kisses, a little touching, nothing major…"

His mouth curved into a wicked grin, full of mischief. "That, I can do."

My heart skipped a beat. What was this man—and why was he looking at me like that?

"Perfect." I pretended not to be fazed and tugged his hand as we headed toward the ballroom. "Come on, I can't be any later!"

As we walked down the hallway, something occurred to me.

"By the way, we need to settle on your name."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

"Settle on my name?"

"Of course! You need an heir-worthy name…"

I pulled out a little list my sister had made for me with the most important surnames in Auroria.

He let out a genuine laugh—deep, rich, and dangerously attractive.

"Go on then, pick one," I said.

He paused for a moment, and the playful smile returned to his lips. "Christian Kensington."

Before I could reply, the doors swung open—and there was Elise. Her eyes widened slightly as she gasped… "Kensington… from Kensington Wineries?"