The Sterling Foundation Gala was less of a charity event and more of a synchronized display of aggression. The air was thick with the scent of lilies, five-figure perfume, and enough suppressed rage to power a small city.
Reid Sterling didn't walk into the ballroom; he cut through it.
His grip on my arm wasn't comforting. It was possession. His fingers were pressed against my bare skin, just above my elbow, a cold reminder that for the next twelve months, I was a line item on his balance sheet.
"Don't. Panic," he hissed, his lips barely moving as he greeted a senator with a smile that looked like it had been carved from marble.
"I'm not panicking," I muttered, my heels sinking into the plush carpet. My internal voice was screaming, This dress costs more than your late mother's house, but I managed to keep my expression neutral. "I'm just calculating how much I can hock this necklace for if you bail on the contract."
A genuine, sharp bark of laughter escaped him. It was short and dangerous, and it drew the attention of three photographers. "Focus, Maya. The only way you're getting that necklace is by keeping me in the corner of your eye and looking like you've been in love with me since kindergarten."
" kindergarten? Really?" I forced a giggle that sounded like broken glass. "I can work with 'met at an exclusive gallery opening,' but 'kindergarten' implies you have a soul. I don't want to overact."
He didn't have time to retaliate. The synchronized aggression in the room parted, and a woman stepped into our path.
She was what every AI-generated fantasy story described: ethereal, golden-haired, and dressed in a white gown that made my emerald silk look like cheap plastic. Cassandra Vance. The heiress who thought Reid Sterling was her birthright.
She looked at Reid like he was a freshly baked cake, and then she looked at me like I was the roach that had crawled out of the oven.
"Reid, darling!" Cassandra purred, her voice like warm honey and hidden razors. She reached out and placed a hand on his chest, right over his heart. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Your father's health..." she paused, her eyes widening in a show of false sympathy that I immediately recognized.
I was a waitress. I knew how to read "fake" as a second language.
"My father is stabilizing, Cassandra," Reid said, his voice dropping an octave. He didn't move her hand.
"And you've brought... a guest," Cassandra continued, finally training her emerald eyes on me. She looked at my neck, at my back, at my shoes. Her smile remained, but her gaze was a scalpel. "I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Cassandra Vance. Reid and I were... practically inseparable as children."
She emphasized the "inseparable" in a way that made my skin crawl.
"I'm Maya," I said, offering a hand I knew she wouldn't take. I used my Deep POV to describe my own raw, internal friction: My palms were sweating, but I was too stubborn to wipe them on the silk. AI wouldn't sweat. AI wouldn't care. "I'm Reid's fiancée."
The world seemed to stop spinning.
Cassandra's golden smile faltered. For a split second, I saw the genuine, raw rage beneath the white dress. It was ugly. It was magnificent.
"Fiancée?" Cassandra's voice shook slightly. She turned back to Reid. "But... we discussed... this is who you chose to stabilize the estate? A nobody from the Morning Shift?"
She knew. She'd done her research too.
Reid's grip on my arm tightened, nearly bruising my skin. His internal monologue must have been screaming, but his face was perfectly composed. "I chose the woman I trust, Cassandra. Maya is the stabilizing force I needed."
"Stable? She's an opportunist, Reid!" Cassandra hissed, stepping closer. "If you think the board will accept a waitress as the new Matriarch of the Sterling line, you are incompetent."
"Opportunist?" I cut in, my waitress voice—the one that had dealt with angry truckers and late-night drunks—taking over. "It's called 'love,' Cassandra. It might be a foreign concept to you, given how hard you're trying to perform, but I'm sure it exists somewhere outside your tax bracket."
Cassandra stared at me. No one had ever spoken to her like that. She looked like she wanted to slap me, but we were surrounded by cameras.
Reid took my cue. "If you'll excuse us, Cassandra. We have a lot of stakeholders to reassure that the future of Sterling Enterprises is secure... and stable."
He led me away, his pace faster, his breathing jagged. We didn't stop until we reached a secluded balcony overlooking the city lights.
He released my arm and slammed his hands against the stone railing. His back was shaking.
"That," he muttered, "was not on the script."
"She called me a 'nobody,' Reid. I didn't sell you the right to let people insult me." My knees were shaking, but I wasn't going to let him see. "I protected your stable image. You're welcome."
Reid turned around. His face was in shadow, but the moonlight caught the edge of his gray eyes. "You protected more than my image, Maya. You just gave the biggest shark in this room a reason to make your life an absolute hell for the next year."
"Good," I said, leaning against the cold stone, my human heart beating against my silk prison. "I'm good at handling sharks. I have a five-million dollar incentive."
He looked at me for a long moment, the distance between us shrinking.
"If Cassandra Vance makes you her enemy..." he whispered, his voice dangerously low, "you better hope my contract protects you, Maya. Because tonight, you just made it personal."