The lights were blinding.
Elina stepped out of the black car into a storm of flashing cameras. Damon was already out, waiting with that unreadable, signature Sinclair look—half ice, half sin. He extended his hand like a gentleman.
She hesitated only a second, then took it.
Their fingers locked, not out of love, but out of strategy. It didn't stop the burn.
"Smile," he said under his breath as they started up the red carpet. "They're watching."
Elina smiled.
Not because he told her to—but because every camera flash reminded her that this was her performance, too. And she would be damn good at it.
---
Inside the ballroom, the buzz was electric. Journalists, celebrities, and business moguls floated around, whispering and glancing their way. Every pair of eyes tracked their movements like hawks.
"You look stunning," Damon whispered beside her, his hand gently resting on the small of her back.
She turned her head just enough to reply, her smile still camera-ready. "Keep your compliments. They don't work on me anymore."
"Then I guess I'll have to try harder."
She shot him a look, but before she could answer, a familiar voice broke in.
"Elina? My God, is that you?"
It was Amara Rowe, a fashion influencer Elina used to intern under back when she was trying to break into the industry. Her eyes widened, flicking from Elina to Damon with gleeful curiosity.
"I didn't know you two were back together!"
Elina forced a calm laugh. "We're… catching up."
Damon added smoothly, "Some things are worth finding again."
The words made her chest tighten. She hated how naturally he played the role—how convincing he sounded. And worse, how much her body reacted to it.
Amara gushed and moved on, but the damage lingered.
"You really enjoy this, don't you?" Elina said once they were alone again, sipping from her champagne.
"I enjoy seeing you beside me," Damon said without missing a beat. "Even if you're pretending to hate it."
She turned to him, expression hard. "Don't forget why I'm here, Damon. This is pretend. And I'm only doing it because it benefits me too."
"And yet," he said softly, "you're still here."
---
Flashback – The Rooftop Summer
They had sat on a rooftop overlooking the city, sharing a half-eaten strawberry tart and dreams too big for the world below.
"I want to be someone who matters," she whispered.
"You already do," he said. "To me."
He'd leaned in and kissed her then, slow and soft, like she was fragile glass.
She didn't know that kiss would be the last honest thing between them.
---
Now
They danced.
A slow, orchestrated waltz under the golden chandeliers. Eyes watched. Phones recorded. But all Elina could focus on was the man holding her waist, staring down at her with eyes that still knew her too well.
"This is dangerous," she whispered.
"What is?"
"Letting you this close."
Damon didn't smile this time. "Then push me away."
She didn't.
Not yet.