The city lights blur past as the black SUV speeds through the night, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. Aiden sits beside me, his profile illuminated by the occasional streetlight, revealing a jaw set in stone and eyes fixed ahead.
The gala's aftermath clings to me, the weight of stares, whispered speculations, and the ever-present tension of being paraded as Aiden's companion. My fingers clutch the hem of my dress, knuckles white.
"Was that necessary?" I finally ask, breaking the silence.
He turns his head slightly, not enough to meet my gaze. "Yes."
"To expose me like that? To your world?"
He exhales, a sound more of frustration than relief. "It's not just my world anymore."
I bite back a retort, choosing instead to stare out the window, the city's glow a stark contrast to the darkness settling in my chest.
Back at the penthouse, the atmosphere is thick with unspoken words. I head straight to the bedroom, peeling off the dress that now feels like a costume, a facade. The mirror reflects a stranger, eyes wide with fear, lips pressed into a thin line.
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts.
"Come in," I say, voice barely above a whisper.
Aiden enters, a folder in hand. He places it on the dresser, his reflection meeting mine in the mirror.
"What's that?" I ask, turning to face him.
"Answers," he replies.
I open the folder, revealing photographs, documents, and news clippings. Names I recognize from headlines, faces associated with power and crime. At the center, a family tree with 'Hernandez' emblazoned at the top.
"You're part of this?" I ask, dread pooling in my stomach.
He nods. "I'm the heir."
The room tilts slightly, the weight of the revelation pressing down on me.
"Why involve me?"
"Because they saw you with me. Now, they think you're important to me."
I step back, needing distance. "Am I?"
He hesitates, the first crack in his armor. "You are now."
The air between us is charged, a mix of fear, anger, and something else, something unspoken.
"What happens next?" I ask, bracing myself.
"We make them believe you're mine. It's the only way to keep you safe."
I nod slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The line between pretense and reality blurs, and I realize that survival in this world comes at a cost.
---
The next morning starts in silence.
I wake to the sound of clinking dishes from the kitchen, it's him. For a man wrapped in so much danger, he moves like he's at peace, like the weight of empires on his shoulders is nothing but routine.
I wrap myself in a robe and step out, the hem brushing my legs like whispers I can't silence.
Aiden stands at the stove, flipping eggs with care, it feels… strange.
"You cook?" I ask, more surprised than I mean to sound.
He doesn't look at me. "I wasn't always rich."
There it is again. That shadow of a man behind the empire. I sit, watching him set a plate down in front of me; eggs, toast, avocado.
"I didn't poison it," he adds dryly.
I smirk. "Good to know."
We eat in silence for a few minutes. Then he speaks.
"Tonight, we visit my father."
I nearly choke on my toast. "You're what?"
Aiden's jaw tightens. "He wants to meet you."
"I'm not really your girlfriend—"
"You are now."
"Aiden—"
He looks at me, voice flat. "If you walk into his house as anything less than someone I'd kill for, you won't walk out."
That shuts me up.
***
The estate is a fortress.
We arrive just past sundown. Golden lights bathe the stone driveway as black cars pull in behind us are guards, no doubt. Men in suits with unreadable faces nod as we pass. I cling to Aiden's arm, trying to match his pace and his poise. Inside, it's all polished marble and antique gold, walls lined with old oil paintings of men who look like ghosts with crowns.
And at the center of it all… his father.
Marco Hernandez.
Throne-like chair. Blood-ringed eyes. Smile like a knife.
"Aiden," he says, voice deep, slow.
"Father."
"And this must be the girl," Marco's gaze settles on me like a microscope, like he's deciding where to cut first.
"Serina," I say, lifting my chin.
His smile grows wider. "Brave."
"She had to be," Aiden replies, coolly, "to be with me."
Marco hums. "You always did pick the dangerous ones."
Dinner is a war in disguise.
Fine wine. Empty pleasantries. But every word exchanged between father and son is a duel. I watch as power moves silently between them, eyelid twitches, fork placements, measured silences.
By the end, I realize something terrifying:
Aiden's not just protecting me from outsiders.
He's protecting me from his own blood.
---
The ballroom sparkles like a dream. Crystal chandeliers hanging like frozen rain, laughter curling through the air like smoke. But to me, it feels like a trap.
Like a hundred eyes are waiting for me to crack.
I don't belong here. Not in this place. Not on Aiden's arm.
Not under the weight of the lie we're now both living.
But here I am.
Wearing a dress I didn't choose, makeup I didn't apply, hair done by a stylist who didn't say a single word to me. Everything about me tonight has been curated, molded, made into someone I'm not.
His girlfriend.
His cover.
His property.
Aiden walks beside me, one hand resting lightly on the small of my back. To the world, it's a protective gesture. But I feel it for what it really is.
A leash.
"You look stunning," he murmurs in my ear, all smooth charm and fake devotion.
I don't respond.
Because if I do, I might scream.
Instead, I let him guide me through the sea of politicians, investors, and men whose smiles don't reach their eyes.
Everyone wants a moment with him. Every woman wants to be me.
If only they knew.
"You're shaking," Aiden says under his breath, his lips barely moving.
"I hate this," I whisper back.
He leans in closer. "Hating it won't keep you alive. Playing your role will."
I clench my jaw and force a smile as another couple approaches. Aiden slips seamlessly into conversation, masking threats with charm, venom with velvet. I stand quietly, a perfect shadow.
Until I hear it.
"Miss Davies," a voice purrs behind me.
I turn.
A woman stands there in red silk, flawless and confident. Her eyes linger on Aiden for a beat too long before returning to me.
"I'm surprised to see you here," she says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Aiden doesn't usually... repeat guests."
The words are polite. The threat beneath them is not.
I don't answer. Just meet her gaze and let my silence speak.
Aiden steps in smoothly. "Serina's not a guest. She's mine."
The woman's smile sharpens.
And for a second, I realize something.
It's not just me who doesn't trust him.
It's everyone.
This world he lives in? It's built on secrets, alliances, and blood.
And tonight, I've been thrown into the middle of it.
Whether I like it or not.