The next morning felt surreal. By noon, I was standing in the mirrored fitting room of Maison du Étoile, surrounded by elegant fabrics and soft lighting. The seamstress pinned the lace on my waist while tutting approvingly.
"You're lucky," she said absently. "Most women would kill to marry Damien Hale."
I gave a polite smile, not trusting myself to respond.
Lucky?
I was wearing a wedding dress, but I didn't feel like a bride. I felt like a piece being positioned on a chessboard.
When I stepped out of the fitting room, I wasn't expecting an audience, but they were there: Daniel, Damien's assistant, speaking with another man around Damien's age. He was slightly younger, warm-eyed, and noticeably more relaxed than any executive I'd ever seen. His suit wasn't stiff or aggressive; it was stylish and light, like he didn't need to prove anything.
Daniel noticed me first. "Miss Hayes." He nodded politely. "You look lovely."
The other man turned to look at me, and for a moment, his expression genuinely shifted — he looked caught off guard.
"Lovely is too mild," he said. "She looks stunning."
Daniel gave him a warning glance, but he continued anyway, stepping forward and offering his hand.
"I'm Leon Maddox. I work closely with Damien."
I shook his hand. "Zara Hayes."
His palm was warm, his smile softer than anything I had experienced in days.
"So," he said lightly, "you're the future Mrs. Hale. Congratulations."
I tried to keep my tone neutral. "Thank you. I appreciate that."
Leon's eyes were perceptive. Curious, even. Not in a predatory way, but in a searching one.
"Has anyone warned you yet?" he asked with a hint of mischief.
"Warned me about what?"
"That Damien's greatest skill is pretending he has no emotions." He smiled gently, like it was half-joke, half-truth.
I blinked, unsure how to respond. Daniel cleared his throat.
"Leon, maybe don't… philosophize. Not now."
Leon just shrugged. "I'm just saying she should know the terrain."
Before I could ask more, the door opened.
The room stilled.
Damien Hale walked in.
His presence hit like a cold gust of wind. His eyes scanned the room and landed on me in the dress.
For a heartbeat, something flickered in his gaze. Something unreadable.
Then it was gone.
He nodded briskly. "It fits."
That was his commentary on my wedding gown.
Not beautiful.
Not elegant.
Just efficient.
Leon chuckled quietly under his breath. "Always poetic, Damien."
Damien ignored him and stepped closer to me. "We have to leave soon. The press is already setting up at the venue."
My heart started pounding again. I suddenly remembered that this would all be public. Pictures. Interviews. Glossy headlines with captions I didn't choose.
As we walked out to the waiting car, Damien walked beside me, but not with me. It felt like accompanying a dignitary rather than a husband.
Once inside the car, silence followed us like a shadow. I stared out of the window until Damien finally spoke.
"You were talking to Leon."
It wasn't a question.
"Yes," I said casually.
"He can be… overly friendly."
I turned my head to look at him. "Is that a problem?"
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "No." He paused. "Just remember the terms of our arrangement."
My brows drew together. "Which part of the terms does that violate?"
He didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
We arrived at the wedding venue shortly after. Cameramen gathered outside the entrance, lights flashing, lenses aimed.
Daniel opened the car door and helped me out. The moment my feet touched the ground, the crowd surged forward.
"Miss Hayes, how did you meet Mr. Hale?"
"Is this a love match or a business alliance?"
"Damien, are you happy to be marrying today?"
"Zara, what attracted you to him?"
Damien slid his hand into mine. Instantly the flashes intensified.
He leaned toward me, smiling for the cameras, his voice barely audible.
"Smile. We are perfect today."
So I smiled.
Not for joy.
Not for romance.
But because the world expected me to.
And beside me, Damien Hale played the role of the devoted groom.
But only one man in the crowd, watching from a distance, saw the truth.
Leon Maddox.
And he did not look fooled.