The charity gala glittered like a dream I didn't belong in.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, reflecting light off champagne glasses and diamonds. Every woman wore a gown that probably cost more than my father's old car.
And I stood among them—Alexander Blackwood's wife.
His hand rested lightly on my lower back as we walked inside, the touch careful and controlled. To anyone watching, it looked intimate.
To me, it felt like a warning.
"Smile," he murmured without looking at me. "You're nervous."
"I am nervous," I whispered back.
"Then pretend better."
Cameras flashed the moment we stepped onto the carpet.
"Mr. Blackwood! Is this your wife?"
Alexander's grip tightened for half a second before he answered smoothly. "Yes. Elara Blackwood."
The name hit me harder than I expected.
Someone pushed a microphone toward me. "Mrs. Blackwood, how long have you been married?"
Alexander didn't hesitate. "Long enough to know I made the right choice."
I looked up at him, startled.
His expression didn't change—but his thumb brushed my hand, grounding me.
We moved deeper into the hall, surrounded by whispers.
*That's her?*
*She looks so… ordinary.*
*Where did he find her?*
I kept my head high, just like he had instructed.
"You're doing fine," Alexander said quietly. "Remember—close, not clingy."
"I feel like a prop," I muttered.
"Yes," he replied calmly. "A very valuable one."
I shot him a glare, but before I could reply, the atmosphere around us shifted.
Conversations softened. Eyes turned.
A woman approached.
She was stunning—tall, elegant, wearing a red gown that fit her like it was designed for only her body. Her smile was practiced, confident, and dangerous.
"Alexander," she said smoothly. "It's been a while."
I felt his body stiffen.
"Vivian," he replied coolly.
So this was her.
The woman from his past.
Her gaze flicked to me, lingering just long enough to dissect every flaw. "And you must be the wife."
"Elara," I said before Alexander could answer. "Nice to meet you."
Her smile widened. "I'm sure it is."
She turned back to Alexander. "I didn't know you'd finally settled down."
"I didn't announce it publicly," he replied. "On purpose."
Vivian's eyes sharpened. "And yet here she is. Bold."
Alexander's hand tightened at my waist. "Careful."
Vivian laughed softly. "Relax. I'm just surprised. You always said marriage wasn't for you."
"That was before," he said.
"And now?" she asked. "You marry a stranger?"
My chest tightened.
"She's not a stranger," Alexander said firmly. "She's my wife."
For the first time, something real flickered across Vivian's face—annoyance.
"How sweet," she said lightly. "I hope she knows what she's signed up for."
Before I could respond, a photographer called out. "Mr. Blackwood, one photo with your wife, please!"
Alexander didn't hesitate.
He turned to face me, his hand sliding from my waist to my hip. The move was smooth, practiced—and dangerously intimate.
"Relax," he murmured. "Just for the cameras."
He leaned in, his lips brushing close to my ear.
"Smile," he whispered. "Or they'll smell fear."
The camera flashes exploded.
Alexander lowered his head as if to kiss me—close enough that my breath caught—but he stopped just short.
The room held its breath.
Vivian watched us, her expression dark.
Alexander pulled back, his face unreadable.
"Enjoy the rest of the evening," he said to her coolly. "Excuse us."
He guided me away before my legs could give out.
Once we were alone near the balcony, I finally exhaled.
"You didn't warn me about her," I said quietly.
"I didn't think she'd show up," he replied.
"She looks like she still owns you."
His jaw tightened. "She doesn't."
"Then why did she look at me like I was temporary?"
He turned to me then, really turned, his dark eyes intense.
"Because she believes everything in my life is temporary," he said. "Including you."
That hurt more than I expected.
Before I could reply, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen—and went still.
Vivian's name flashed across it.
He declined the call.
I looked at him. "You're not done with her, are you?"
His gaze met mine, conflicted and cold.
"No," he said.
Then, after a pause, he added quietly,
"She's not done with me."