"Remember. Smile only when necessary. Keep your posture straight. Don't speak unless spoken to."
Evelyn stared at herself in the mirror, her reflection almost unrecognizable.
The woman staring back wore a floor-length silk gown in midnight blue, a delicate diamond pendant resting against her collarbone. Her hair had been swept up into a loose, elegant chignon, soft tendrils framing her face. Even her makeup—subtle yet perfect—seemed to transform her into someone who belonged in Damian's world.
Except she didn't.
"I'm not a doll," she murmured.
William, Damian's ever-efficient assistant, smirked faintly from where he stood with a tablet in hand. "No. But tonight you'll play one convincingly."
Evelyn turned sharply. "I don't need a script to stand beside him."
"True. But if you make even one wrong move, the media will eat you alive." William's tone wasn't cruel, just matter-of-fact. "And he won't tolerate that."
Before Evelyn could snap back, the door opened.
Damian stood there in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, his presence sucking the air from the room.
For a moment, Evelyn forgot how to breathe.
She'd thought he looked intimidating in suits. But in formalwear, Damian Lu was devastating. Every line of his body spoke of power and precision, from his crisp white shirt to the sleek black tie.
His eyes swept over her slowly, unreadable as ever.
"You'll do," he said finally.
Evelyn's jaw tightened. "Charming as always."
A corner of his mouth twitched—maybe amusement, maybe irritation.
"Let's go."
The car ride to the gala was suffocatingly silent.
Evelyn sat rigid, clutching the small clutch bag William had forced on her.
"Stop fidgeting," Damian said without looking at her.
"I'm not fidgeting," she shot back.
"You're radiating nervous energy. They'll smell it a mile away."
"Maybe because I am nervous. Unlike you, I wasn't born to swim with sharks."
"You agreed to this," Damian reminded her coolly. "You knew what you were signing up for."
"I signed up to be your fake fiancée, not your perfect socialite accessory."
For the first time, his eyes cut to her, sharp as a blade.
"Tonight, there's no difference."
The Lu Corporation Charity Gala was held at one of the city's most exclusive hotels. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and the air was thick with perfume, money, and carefully masked competition.
As soon as they entered, all eyes turned.
"Damian Lu!"
"Is that… his fiancée?"
"She's… different than I expected."
Evelyn felt every whispered word like a pinprick against her skin. She forced herself to keep her head high, recalling William's coaching: Chin up. Shoulders back. Smile like the world's already yours.
Damian's hand settled firmly at the small of her back. His touch was light, but the message was clear.
You're mine. Play the part.
"Mr. Lu! Congratulations on the engagement!"
A portly businessman approached with a wide grin, his wife clutching his arm and eyeing Evelyn like she was an exotic animal in a cage.
"Thank you, Mr. Zhang," Damian said smoothly.
"And this must be Miss…?"
"Evelyn Liang," Damian supplied.
Evelyn offered a polite nod, hoping her voice wouldn't shake. "It's a pleasure."
"Ah, a beauty and poised too." The man's wife smiled thinly. "Where did you two meet?"
"Through mutual friends," Damian answered before Evelyn could. His thumb brushed her back subtly—a warning to let him handle it.
They navigated through waves of guests, Damian's polite but curt responses keeping conversations brief. Evelyn could feel his body's tension beside hers, though his face remained calm.
"You hate these events, don't you?" she whispered during a brief lull.
"Necessary evils," he murmured back.
Before she could reply, a lilting voice cut through the room like glass.
"Well, well. Damian Lu actually brought a date."
Evelyn turned.
Serena Su stood there in a blood-red gown that clung to her like a second skin. Her perfectly arched brows lifted as her gaze raked over Evelyn, eyes glittering with something that wasn't quite friendly.
"Serena," Damian acknowledged coolly.
"Didn't expect to see you so… domestic," she said, her smile never reaching her eyes. "And who's this?"
"My fiancée," Damian said without hesitation, his arm tightening slightly around Evelyn's waist.
Evelyn's throat went dry under Serena's sharp scrutiny.
"Charming," Serena said finally. "But let's see if she survives more than a month."
Before Evelyn could bite back a retort, Damian's hand pressed lightly at her hip. A silent don't.
Serena's smile widened as she sauntered away, her perfume lingering like smoke.
"Friend of yours?" Evelyn muttered.
"Ex," Damian said shortly.
"Lovely woman."
"Stay away from her."
"Why? Afraid she'll scratch my eyes out?"
"Because she'll try to use you against me." His voice was low, almost a growl.
Evelyn glanced up at him, startled. For a brief moment, she thought she saw something raw flicker across his face—anger, yes, but also protectiveness.
Then it was gone, replaced by his usual mask.
The rest of the night passed in a blur of forced smiles and shallow conversations. Evelyn played her role, her back aching from perfect posture, her cheeks sore from polite smiles.
By the time they finally returned to the penthouse, she was ready to collapse.
But Damian didn't let go of her hand until they were inside.
"You held up well," he said simply.
"Glad I passed the audition," she replied dryly.
His lips twitched faintly. "It's not an audition. It's your life for the next year."
Evelyn swallowed hard. "I know."
Cliffhanger:
Later that night, Evelyn lay awake staring at the ceiling. She could still feel the heat of Damian's hand on her back, hear Serena's venomous voice in her ears.
And for the first time, she wondered if she'd signed more than just a contract…