The penthouse was already awake.
Soft footsteps moved through the hallway.
Doors opening and closing quietly. Voices low. Controlled.
Malissa lay still, staring at the ceiling, trying to slow her breathing.
Tonight was the dinner.
Tonight she would step into Alexander Marquez's world. Not as a stranger. Not as a girl who collided with him on a sidewalk.
But as his girlfriend.
It still felt unreal.
When she finally got out of bed, she found the room transformed. The curtains were drawn open, sunlight spilling across the floor. On the bed lay a long garment bag, and beside it a velvet box. A pair of heels rested neatly on the floor, their polished surface reflecting the light.
Everything was prepared. Everything was waiting.
She walked slowly to the bed and unzipped the garment bag. Inside was a gown of deep midnight blue silk. The fabric shimmered softly, elegant and understated, not loud but powerful. She ran her fingers across the material and swallowed. It was the most expensive thing she had ever touched.
A knock came at the door and a team entered shortly after. A Hairstylist. Makeup artist. Nail technician. They moved around her with quiet efficiency, as if this was routine, as if transforming someone into another person was an ordinary task.
She sat at the vanity while brushes moved across her face, soft powder dusted her skin, and her hair was styled into smooth waves that fell over her shoulders. Her nails were shaped and polished in a soft neutral shade. Perfume was sprayed lightly at her wrists and behind her ears. Every step was careful, controlled, precise.
Hours passed without her noticing.
When they finally stepped away, she looked into the mirror and froze.
The woman staring back at her looked elegant, composed, beautiful in a way she had never seen before. Her skin glowed softly, her eyes looked larger, her hair fell perfectly around her face. She looked like someone who belonged in luxury hotels, private dinners, and high society events.
But inside, she was still Malissa Fisher, the girl who sold her tablet to pay hospital bills.
She stood slowly and changed into the gown.
The silk fell smoothly around her body, fitting perfectly as if it had been made only for her. When she stepped into the heels, she felt taller, different, like she was stepping into a role she did not know how to play.
A house staff member knocked lightly. "Mr. Marquez is waiting downstairs."
Her heart began to pound immediately.
She took one deep breath, then another, and walked toward the door.
Alexander stood in the living room, checking something on his phone when he heard footsteps on the stairs.
He looked up.
For a brief moment, he stilled. His gaze lingered a second longer than necessary.
It was subtle. So subtle that anyone else would have missed it. But he noticed the way the gown moved when she walked, the way her hair framed her face, the way she carried herself carefully, like someone trying not to make a mistake. She looked different. Not just because of the dress or the makeup, but because she looked calm on the outside and terrified on the inside.
"You'll do," he said.
Malissa nodded slightly. Her hands were clasped lightly in front of her so he would not see them trembling.
"You will not embarrass me," he added.
"I understand," she said, steady despite the tension.
He studied her for another moment, then turned toward the door. "We should leave. We are expected."
The car ride to the estate was quiet. The city moved past the windows in a blur of lights and glass buildings, but Malissa barely saw any of it. Her mind was filled with instructions, rules, names, and warnings.
"Greet my father first," Alexander said calmly.
"Then my stepmother. Stay beside me unless someone speaks to you directly. Do not drink too much. If someone insults you, ignore it. If it becomes a problem, I will handle it."
She nodded slowly.
He glanced at her briefly. "Do not look nervous. People will notice."
"I am nervous," she admitted.
"That is why you must not show it," he replied.
She looked down at her hands. "Why did you choose me?"
He did not answer immediately. His gaze shifted to the window, the city lights reflecting in his eyes.
"I needed someone," he said finally. "You were convenient."
The answer was cold, simple, and final. She nodded slowly and did not ask again.
The Marquez estate was enormous, glowing under soft golden lights. Luxury cars lined the long driveway, and guests in elegant evening wear moved across the marble steps, their voices soft and controlled. Staff stood near the entrance, greeting guests politely.
As the car stopped, Malissa's heart began to pound harder. Alexander stepped out first, then offered his hand to help her out of the car. She took it carefully, stepping onto the pavement, trying to remember how to walk in the heels without falling.
The moment they reached the entrance, heads began to turn. Conversations slowed. People looked at them, then at her, curiosity clear in their eyes.
Helena, Alexander's stepmother, was the first to approach them. Her smile was warm, but her eyes were sharp and calculating.
"Alexander," she said smoothly, then her gaze shifted to Malissa. "And this must be the mysterious girlfriend."
Alexander placed his hand lightly at Malissa's back. "This is Malissa."
Helena looked her up and down slowly, her smile never fading. "Welcome. We have heard so much about you. Or perhaps, not enough."
Malissa smiled politely. "Thank you for inviting me."
Clarissa appeared moments later, her dress glittering under the lights. Her expression froze for a brief moment when she saw Malissa, then she smiled sweetly, though her eyes were cold.
"So this is the famous girlfriend," Clarissa said. "I was beginning to think she didn't exist."
Alexander's voice was calm. "Now you know she does."
He guided Malissa inside before Clarissa could respond.
Inside, the ballroom shimmered with chandeliers and polished floors. Guests stood in small groups, holding glasses of champagne and speaking quietly. Conversations slowed again when they entered. People watched them openly now.
Alexander's voice was calm and steady as he introduced her to a group of guests. "This is Malissa, my girlfriend."
The words spread quickly through the room, whispers moving like quiet waves.
Guests approached one by one, their smiles polite but their questions sharp.
"Where did you meet?"
"At a charity gala," Malissa answered.
"How long have you been dating?"
"About a year," Alexander stepped in.
"Why was the relationship private?"
"I prefer to keep my personal life private," he said simply.
The questions kept coming, but Malissa answered carefully, remembering every detail of their fake story. She smiled politely, kept her posture straight, and spoke only when necessary.
But she could feel Clarissa watching her from across the room.
Eventually, Clarissa approached again, this time with a glass of wine in her hand and a polite smile on her face.
"Malissa, right?" she said sweetly. "Which university did you attend?"
"Pacifica University," Malissa answered.
Clarissa tilted her head slightly. "Interesting. I studied business in London. Most of Alexander's circle studied abroad," Clarissa said lightly.
"It's rare for someone local to… integrate so easily."
The words sounded polite, but the insult was clear.
Malissa smiled faintly. "I focused on my work more than social circles."
Clarissa's smile tightened slightly. "And what exactly do you do?"
"I work in publishing," Malissa said.
"How artistic," Clarissa replied. "Our circle is mostly finance, law, and tech. Publishing is quite different."
Malissa did not react. "It keeps me busy."
Clarissa leaned slightly closer. "Tell me, Malissa..." she said softly
"Do you feel comfortable here?"
The words were quiet, but the insult was sharp.
Before Malissa could respond, Alexander's voice cut through the air.
"If you have something to say, say it to me."
The room fell quiet immediately.
Clarissa straightened slightly, her smile returning. "I was only getting to know her."
Alexander's gaze was cold and steady. "Then do so politely. She is with me."
The message was clear. Very clear.
Clarissa stepped back, her expression tight.
Alexander turned slightly toward Malissa.
"Stay beside me," he said quietly.
She nodded.
Later, everyone moved to the dining hall. The table was long and elegant, set with crystal glasses and silver cutlery. Malissa sat beside Alexander, aware of every movement she made, every glance directed at her.
At the head of the table sat Alexander's father, calm and silent, observing everything.
During the meal, he finally spoke.
"So, Malissa," he said calmly. "What do you enjoy doing?"
She swallowed slightly. "Reading. Painting. Walking by Azure Bay."
He nodded once. "Simple interests are often the most honest ones."
She held his gaze for a moment... then smiled politely.
It didn't feel like a compliment.
The meal continued quietly, but the tension never left the room.
When dessert was served, a man seated across the table leaned forward slightly, studying Malissa carefully.
"Malissa Fisher," he said slowly. "That name sounds familiar. Wasn't there a court case years ago involving someone with that name?"
The room went silent immediately.
Malissa's fingers tightened slightly around her fork.
The man leaned back slightly,
"A business case… or something worse." he said thoughtfully.
"It was quite… memorable."
Alexander's gaze turned cold instantly. "That is enough."
The man raised his hands slightly. "I was only curious."
Alexander's voice was calm but dangerous. "Then remain curious quietly."
Silence fell over the table again.
Malissa stared at her plate, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. She could feel everyone watching her now. Judging. Wondering.
But nothing felt the same anymore.
And Malissa understood one thing clearly.
Alexander's world was not just powerful.
It was dangerous.
And she was already inside it.