Vanessa's POV
You're making a mistake.
Maya stood in my living room at six-thirty, watching me panic over what to wear for my first fake date with Jake Morrison.
You've said that seventeen times, I replied, pulling out a black dress and immediately rejecting it. Too funeral. Too depressing.
Because it's true seventeen times. Maya grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. Lyn, listen to me. Fake dating Jake Morrison is dangerous. Not for your career—for your heart.
My heart is fine.
Your heart is already halfway in love with him and you know it.
I opened my mouth to argue. Couldn't.
Because she was right.
Six weeks of secret meetings. His hand holding mine at the police station. The way he'd looked at me in that restaurant like I was worth protecting.
I was in so much trouble.
The contract protects me, I said weakly. It's just business.
Business doesn't make your face go red when he texts you. Business doesn't make you check your phone every five minutes hoping to see his name.
My phone buzzed. Jake's name appeared.
Maya raised an eyebrow. Point proven.
I grabbed the phone. Still on for seven? I'm leaving now.
My stomach flipped. He was coming here. To my apartment. To pick me up for our first fake date.
This was really happening.
I need to finish getting ready, I said.
Lyn
Maya, I know this is risky. I know it could blow up in my face. But I have to try. Marcus is winning. David is destroying me. This is my only shot at fighting back.
Maya sighed. Just promise me something.
What?
When you fall in love with him—and you will—don't let it destroy you when it ends. Because it will end. That's the whole point of fake dating.
Her words hit like ice water.
She was right. In twelve weeks, this would be over. Jake and I would go our separate ways. The fake relationship would end.
And I'd be left with real feelings for a man who was only pretending.
I won't fall in love with him, I lied.
Maya kissed my cheek. Sure you won't. Wear the red dress. He said he likes you in red.
She left, and I stood alone in my bedroom, staring at the red dress hanging in my closet.
The one I'd worn when Jake texted me I looked good in it.
I put it on.
The buzzer rang at exactly seven o'clock.
I grabbed my clutch and opened the door.
Jake Morrison stood in the hallway in a perfectly fitted black suit, and my brain stopped working.
He was devastatingly handsome. Dark hair slightly messy like he'd run his hands through it. Sharp jawline. Those dark eyes that saw everything.
And the way he looked at me—like I'd stolen his breath.
Vanessa. My name on his lips sounded like a prayer. You look...
Like I'm trying too hard?
Incredible. His eyes traveled down my dress and back up slowly. Absolutely incredible.
Heat flooded my face. Thank you. You look good too.
Good? His smile was devastating. I was going for 'devastatingly handsome' but I'll take good.
I laughed despite my nerves. Don't let it go to your head.
Too late. He offered his arm. Ready for our first fake date?
I hesitated. Once I took his arm, this became real. No going back.
Vanessa. Jake's voice softened. We can still call this off. If you're not ready—
I'm ready. I slipped my hand through his arm. His muscles tensed under my touch. Let's break the internet.
Jake's smile was sharp and dangerous. That's my girl.
My girl. Even fake, the words sent shivers through me.
We rode the elevator down in charged silence. His hand covered mine on his arm, warm and possessive.
Nervous? he asked.
Terrified.
Good. Me too.
I looked up at him, surprised. You're nervous? You're Jake Morrison. Billionaire. Media darling. You do this all the time.
I've never fake-dated someone I actually, He stopped. Cleared his throat. Someone I actually respect this much. I don't want to screw this up.
Was it my imagination, or had he almost said something else?
The elevator doors opened to the parking garage. A sleek black car waited, driver holding the door open.
Paparazzi were already there.
How did they— I started.
Ryan tipped them off, Jake said quietly. We need photos. The story starts tonight.
Right. The story. The fake relationship. The business arrangement.
Not real.
Cameras flashed as we approached the car. Jake's hand moved to my waist, pulling me close.
Smile, he murmured against my ear. Like you're falling in love with me.
I looked up at him, and for a moment, I forgot we were pretending.
His eyes were so intense. So focused on me. Like I was the only thing that mattered.
Ms. Chen! Mr. Morrison! Are you two together?
Just friends? another shouted.
Jake pulled me closer. Ms. Chen and I are exploring whether former enemies can become something more.
The cameras went wild.
How long has this been going on?
What does Marcus Reeves think?
Jake guided me into the car. The door shut, muffling the noise.
We sat in the back seat, suddenly alone again. His hand was still on my waist.
Neither of us moved.
That was... I couldn't find words.
Convincing? Jake's thumb traced small circles on my hip, sending electricity through my entire body.
Very.
Good. Because tomorrow, those photos will be everywhere. His eyes dropped to my lips. Are you ready for that?
For what?
For the world thinking we're together. For everyone having opinions about us. For Marcus losing his mind.
Will he? Lose his mind?
Jake's smile was cold. Absolutely. You were his. Now you're mine. Even fake, it'll kill him.
You're mine. The possessive words shouldn't make my heart race. But they did.
We should talk about boundaries, I said, desperate to break the tension. Physical contact. What's allowed. What's too far.
What do you want to be allowed?
Everything, I thought. I want everything.
Hand holding, I said instead. Arms around waist for photos. Maybe... cheek kisses? For appearances.
And if I need to kiss you for real? Jake's voice was low, dangerous. To sell the story?
Then you ask first.
Every time?
Every time.
His eyes held mine. What if there's no time to ask? What if we're in public and I need to kiss you right then or the story falls apart?
My mouth went dry. Then... I trust you to read the situation.
That's a lot of trust for someone you hated six weeks ago.
I don't hate you anymore.
The confession slipped out before I could stop it.
Jake's hand tightened on my waist. What do you feel instead?
Terrified. Confused. Falling.
I don't know yet, I whispered.
The car pulled up to a restaurant. Private. Exclusive. Where we'd be photographed again.
Ready? Jake asked.
No. But let's do it anyway.
His smile was genuine this time. Warm. That's the Vanessa Chen I know. Terrified but brave anyway.
We exited the car to more camera flashes. Jake's hand never left my waist as we walked inside.
Dinner was surprisingly easy. We talked about business, technology, our companies. He made me laugh. I caught him staring at me multiple times with an expression I couldn't read.
When dessert arrived, Jake reached across the table and took my hand.
I know this is fake, he said quietly. But I want you to know—I'm glad it's you. I'm glad I get to do this with you.
My heart stuttered. Jake—
I mean it. If I have to pretend to date someone, I'm glad it's the smartest, strongest, most stubborn woman I've ever met.
You forgot 'most annoying.'
That too. His smile was soft. But it makes you interesting.
We left the restaurant an hour later, hand in hand, while cameras captured every moment.
In the car, Jake's phone started buzzing. He looked at the screen and his face went dark.
What is it?
He turned the phone toward me.
Marcus had posted on social media. A photo of him and Lily, both smiling. The caption read:
So thrilled to see my ex has moved on! Wishing Vanessa and Jake all the best. No hard feelings here—I'm too happy with my beautiful fiancée to care about the past. #MovingOn #NoRegrets #EngagementParty
The post already had thousands of likes.
And every comment was calling me desperate.
He's positioning himself as the mature one, I said, my voice tight. Making it look like I'm pathetically trying to make him jealous.
Then we respond. Jake's eyes were fierce. Give me your phone.
Why?
Trust me.
I handed it over. He opened my Instagram and started typing.
Sometimes the best revenge is being genuinely happy. Thanks for the well wishes, Marcus. Jake and I are too busy building empires to worry about the past. #MovingForward #NewBeginnings #PowerCouple
He attached a photo—one the paparazzi had taken of us leaving the restaurant, Jake's arm around my waist, both of us laughing.
We looked happy. Real.
Like we were actually in love.
Post it, Jake said.
I hesitated. This would make it official. Public. Everyone would know.
Vanessa. Post it.
I pressed send.
Within seconds, notifications exploded. Comments. Likes. Shares.
The internet was losing its mind.
We just became the biggest story in tech, Jake said quietly.
Is that good or bad?
Depends on if we can sell it. His eyes met mine. Can we?
I thought about his hand on my waist. His thumb tracing circles on my hip. The way he looked at me like I mattered.
Yes, I whispered. We can.
Jake's phone rang. He answered. Ryan, what, His face went pale. When? How many?
What? I demanded. What's wrong?
Jake hung up. Marcus's engagement party. It's not next week.
When is it?
Tomorrow night. He moved it up. Jake's jaw clenched. And he just publicly invited both of us on social media. Every tech reporter in the country will be watching to see if we show up.
My stomach dropped. Tomorrow? I don't have time to
We have to go. Together. If we don't, Marcus wins. He makes us look weak. Afraid.
But we're not ready! We just announced this tonight!
Which makes it even better. Jake's eyes burned into mine. We show up tomorrow as a couple. Happy. In love. And we destroy his big moment by making it all about us.
That's insane.
That's war. Jake caught my hand. I need to know you're with me. All in. Tomorrow we walk into Marcus's engagement party and we make everyone believe we're falling in love. Can you do that?
Could I pretend to be falling in love with Jake Morrison?
The man I was already halfway in love with for real?
Yes, I said. I can do that.
Jake's smile was devastating. Then tomorrow, we go to war.
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
Enjoy your fake relationship while it lasts. Jake Morrison destroys everything he touches. Ask his last girlfriend. Oh wait—you can't. She's dead. —A Friend
The blood drained from my face.
What? Jake demanded. What does it say?
I turned the phone toward him with shaking hands.
Jake's face went white. Then red. Pure rage.
Who sent this?
I don't know. Unknown number.
Your last girlfriend is dead? I whispered.
Jake's hands curled into fists. That's not—it's not what you think—
Then what is it?
It's a lie. A manipulation. Someone trying to make you afraid of me.
Is it true? Did someone die?
Jake looked away. There was a woman. Three years ago. She worked for me. We dated briefly. She died in a car accident.
My blood ran cold. What kind of accident?
The kind that killed her instantly. Jake's voice was raw. And it wasn't my fault. The police cleared me. But Marcus and David used it against me anyway. Spread rumors that I was responsible. That I'm dangerous.
Are you? The question escaped before I could stop it.
Jake's eyes met mine, wounded and angry. No. Never. I would never hurt someone I cared about.
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to.
But the text message sat between us like a bomb.
Tomorrow, Jake said quietly. We go to that party. We prove we're not afraid. And we figure out who's trying to destroy us.
Together?
His hand found mine in the dark car. Together.
But as the car pulled away, I couldn't shake the words:
Jake Morrison destroys everything he touches.
What if falling for him meant I was next?