Young Millionaire Thought It Was Just a Fake Engagement. But He Never Expected to Fall in Love
The Public Performance
The next evening, Emma found herself standing in Damien’s sleek penthouse. She felt like she’d been dropped into a scene from a movie. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased a glittering view of the city skyline. Minimalist furniture and abstract art emphasized wealth she couldn’t even fathom.
“So you’ve decided,” Damien said. His tone was more statement than question as he poured himself a glass of wine.
Emma swallowed hard. “I’ll do it, but on one condition.”
His brow arched. “Oh?”
“You don’t get to treat me like one of your employees,” she said firmly. “This isn’t a dictatorship. If I’m going to help you, I’m doing it on my terms.”
Damien’s lips twitched into what might have been a smile. “Fair enough. Anything else?”
“Yes. I want everything in writing. No loopholes, no surprises.”
“Done.”
Emma exhaled slowly, her stomach in knots. “Okay then. What happens now?”
“Now,” Damien said, setting his glass down, “we make this official. There’s a charity gala tomorrow night. You’ll be by my side as my fiancee.”
Her heart sank. “Tomorrow? Are you kidding? I don’t even have anything to wear.”
“That’s been taken care of,” Damien replied smoothly. “A stylist will meet you in the morning. You’ll have everything you need.”
Emma opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. There was no point. She’d already signed up for this madness.
The next evening, Emma stood at the entrance of the grand ballroom. She felt more out of place than ever despite the breathtaking designer gown Damien had sent over. The floor-length emerald dress hugged her curves perfectly. The matching heels were unlike anything she’d ever worn.
No amount of luxury could make her feel comfortable in Damien’s world.
“Relax,” Damien murmured as he offered her his arm. “You look stunning.”
She shot him a sideways glance. “You don’t have to lie. I know I’m not exactly high society material.”
His gaze softened just enough to catch her off guard. “You’re perfect. Trust me.”
Before she could respond, they stepped into the ballroom. The air buzzed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the hum of a live orchestra. Heads turned as they entered. Whispers followed them like shadows.
Emma gripped Damien’s arm tighter, her nerves threatening to overwhelm her. But he leaned in, his voice low and steady. “Just smile and play along. You’ve got this.”
As they moved through the crowd, Emma noticed how effortlessly Damien charmed everyone. He was confident, polished, and maddeningly charismatic. He was everything she wasn’t.
And yet, when they took to the dance floor for their first waltz, something shifted. His hand on her waist was firm yet gentle. His movements guided hers with surprising ease.
“You’re doing great,” he said softly, his breath warm against her ear.
Emma looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat. For a moment, the world around them faded. It left just the two of them in the center of the room.
But as the song ended and applause erupted, reality came crashing back. This wasn’t real. It was a transaction and a performance. No matter how convincing Damien was, Emma couldn’t let herself forget that.
The applause still echoed as Damien led her off the dance floor. His hand rested lightly on the small of her back. Her cheeks burned from the intensity of their waltz and the dozens of eyes fixed on them.
She could feel the weight of scrutiny. The whispers brushed against her like sharp-edged feathers.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Damien asked. He leaned closer to ensure she heard him over the den of the ballroom.
Emma tilted her head to look at him. Her expression was caught between incredulity and irritation.
“Bad? You mean the part where I felt like a fish in a tank while everyone watched and judged me? No, Damien, that wasn’t bad at all.”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t quite smile. “You handled it better than most. Holloway noticed, by the way. He approached me earlier and mentioned how refreshing you were.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “Refreshing?”
Damien nodded. “Apparently, you’re not what he expected. That’s a good thing.”
Emma’s stomach twisted. She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an acknowledgement that she didn’t belong. “Glad to know I’m exceeding such high expectations,” she muttered.
He stopped walking and turned to face her. His expression was unreadable. “Don’t sell yourself short, Emma. You’re doing exactly what I need you to do.”
Something about his tone, soft and almost sincere, made her pause. But before she could respond, a striking blonde in a shimmery silver gown approached them. Her smile was all teeth. Her gaze lingered on Damien a little too long.
“Damien, darling, you’ve been avoiding me all evening,” she cooed. She placed a manicured hand on his arm. “Care to introduce me?”
Emma stiffened, her grip on Damien’s arm instinctively tightening. He didn’t miss the gesture and covered her hand with his. It was a calculated move that sent a ripple of heat through her.
“Victoria,” Damien said smoothly, his voice taking on a colder edge. “This is Emma, my fiancee.”
Victoria’s eyes widened briefly before her smile returned, sharper and more calculating. “Fiancee? I had no idea. Congratulations, both of you.”
Emma forced a smile, painfully aware of Victoria’s scrutinizing gaze. “Thank you,” she said. Her voice was steady even as her pulse raced.
Victoria’s eyes flicked to Damien, her tone laced with faux sweetness. “You move fast, don’t you? I can’t wait to hear all about how you two met.”
Before Damien could respond, Emma decided to take control. Her annoyance was bubbling to the surface. “It’s a funny story, actually,” she said brightly. She kept her tone light. “We met when Damien nearly ran me over.”
Victoria’s perfectly arched brows shot up. “Excuse me?”
Emma shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “In his car. He wasn’t paying attention, and I had to jump out of the way. Romantic, right?”
Damien’s lips twitched, his eyes glinting with amusement. He played along. “What can I say? She left quite the impression.”
Victoria’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered. “How charming. Well, I’ll let you two enjoy the rest of your evening. Lovely to meet you, Emma.”
As Victoria walked away, Emma let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “She hates me,” she whispered.
Damien chuckled, his hand still resting on hers. “She hates everyone who isn’t her. Don’t take it personally.”
Emma pulled her hand away, suddenly feeling exposed. “This is exhausting. How do you do this all the time?”
“You get used to it,” he said simply. But the shadow that crossed his face betrayed a hint of weariness. “Come on, let’s get some air.”
Without waiting for her agreement, Damien guided her toward the balcony. The cool night air was a welcome reprieve from the stifling atmosphere inside. Emma leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath.
“Are all your events this intense?” she asked, staring out at the glittering city lights.
“Most of them,” Damien admitted, standing beside her. “But tonight went well. Holloway was impressed, and that’s what matters.”
Emma glanced at him, her earlier irritation fading. For the first time, she noticed the tension in his jaw. She noticed the way his shoulders seemed perpetually tight.
“Does it ever get tiring? Putting on a show for people like Holloway?”
He looked at her, his expression guarded. “It’s part of the job.”
“That’s not an answer,” she pressed.
A flicker of something—pain, maybe—crossed his face before he looked away. “It’s necessary,” he said finally. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
Emma frowned. “You act like I’ve never had to fight to survive. News flash, Damien: I’ve been putting on a show my entire life. The stakes might be different, but don’t assume I don’t get it.”
Her words seemed to catch him off guard. For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, quietly, he said, “Noted.”
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged. It was a current running between them that neither seemed willing to acknowledge. Finally, Damien straightened, his polished mask slipping back into place.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll have my driver take you home.”
