Nova's POV
The dress was tighter than I liked, and redder than I felt.
It clung to me like the decision I'd made hours ago ,to marry the man I swore I'd never look at again, let alone live with. And now I was standing in front of a full-length mirror in a penthouse closet the size of my childhood bedroom, wondering how I got here.
My reflection didn't look like me.
She looked like a stranger playing dress-up in someone else's life.
Maybe that's exactly what I was.
A stranger.
A fake.
I clipped the diamond necklace around my neck, the one Leon gave me earlier with all the emotional warmth of a paperclip. It glimmered against my collarbone like it belonged there.
I hated that it actually looked good.
"You ready?"
His voice from the doorway sent a pulse through me I wish I could blame on nerves. I turned slowly, and there he was Leon Hale in a black tailored suit that screamed power and smelled like expensive sin.
He didn't look at me the way a man looks at his bride.
He looked at me the way a hunter looks at his best trap.
"You clean up alright," he said, eyes lingering for a beat too long.
"I could say the same," I shot back. "But I'd be lying."
A twitch at the corner of his mouth. Not a smile. Just... something.
"Shall we?" he asked, offering me his arm.
God help me—I took it.
Leon's POV
She looked like a warning dressed as a woman.
Red dress. Bare shoulders. A neckline that bordered on a declaration of war. Every man at that gala was going to look at her and wonder how I got her.
And I'd let them wonder.
Because tonight, she wasn't the fallen heiress.
She was my wife.
We entered the ballroom to a hush that said everything the tabloids hadn't printed yet. Dozens of eyes turned. Forks paused mid-air. Glasses froze on their way to lips.
I felt Nova tense beside me. I leaned in slightly and whispered through a perfectly polite smile.
"Smile. You look like you're being led to the guillotine."
She smiled.
It was sharp enough to draw blood.
Nova's POV
The ballroom was all chandeliers and old money. Men in tuxedos. Women dripping in jewelry that could pay off my student loans three times over.
I recognized some of the faces, former family friends, now pretending they'd never met me. A few fake gasps. Polite nods. One woman clutched her pearls like I'd risen from the dead.
In a way, I had.
Leon's hand rested lightly on my lower back as we walked, guiding me like a chess piece across the board. I hated the way my skin reacted to his touch, how aware I was of his presence, his warmth, the press of his body just inches from mine.
We made our rounds, shaking hands, exchanging false pleasantries.
"She's even more stunning in person," one board member whispered too loudly.
"Guess the Ice King found someone to melt him," someone else joked.
If only they knew how wrong they were.
Leon was still frozen. I was just the fire he brought for show.
Leon's POV
She played her part well.
Laughed at the right times. Tossed her hair like she didn't care the whole city was watching. For a woman who hadn't set foot in these circles for two years, Nova slid back in like she'd never left.
But I saw the cracks.
The twitch in her smile when someone mentioned her father.
The way her fingers curled slightly tighter around her wine glass.
The pause before she answered anything about us.
Fake marriages are a game of illusion.
The better the illusion, the more dangerous the truth becomes.
And tonight, she was blurring the line better than I ever expected.
"Leon."
I turned to see Gregory Langston approaching—a rival CEO with a vulture's smile and a tongue made of oil.
"I see you've finally settled down," he said, eyeing Nova like she was an auction piece. "Didn't peg you for the marrying type."
"Neither did I," I said.
Nova leaned in with a sugary smile. "He didn't have a choice. I have the blackmail photos."
Laughter erupted around us.
I couldn't stop the smirk that tugged at my mouth.
God help me—she was funny.
And dangerous.
Nova's POV
I lost count of how many people complimented our "chemistry."
If only they knew how much of it was made from spite and survival.
I took a break near the edge of the balcony, letting the night air cool the heat gathering at my temples. The city lights stretched out like veins beneath the dark sky, pulsing with life I didn't feel anymore.
"Regretting it already?"
Leon's voice beside me again.
"Only mildly."
He handed me a drink. "You held your own."
"I've been faking smiles since I was twelve."
He turned toward the city view. "Why'd you say yes?"
I sipped the champagne. "Because sometimes pride doesn't pay the bills."
A beat of silence.
"I expected you to walk away."
I looked at him. "Disappointed?"
He met my gaze. "Surprised."
Another beat.
"I thought you hated me more than you loved your family," he said.
"I do," I replied.
He chuckled. It wasn't cold this time. It was… real.
I hated how it made me want to hear it again.
Leon's POV
We stood there longer than we should have.
The party continued behind us, a buzz of noise and power.
But out here, it was just the two of us—two broken legacies wrapped in velvet and steel.
I studied her out of the corner of my eye. The way her fingers traced the stem of her glass. The way her eyes followed the skyline like she was chasing something she couldn't name.
"You're not what I expected," I said quietly.
She raised an eyebrow. "What did you expect?"
"A social climber. A gold-digger. A puppet."
"Well," she said, stepping closer, "you don't know me."
"I'm starting to."
That silence again. Thicker this time. Heavier.
Then she turned to go back inside—and the heel of her shoe caught on the lip of the marble.
She stumbled.
I reached for her without thinking.
My hand on her waist. Her palm on my chest. A breathless pause.
We stared at each other. Inches apart. The city roaring beneath us.
And for a moment, the lie we were living felt like it could be true.
Nova's POV
I felt his hand linger a second too long.
His breath ghosted against my cheek. His fingers firm, steady, warm. I should've pulled back. Should've said something snarky. Should've laughed it off.
Instead, I froze, trapped in the look in his eyes.
Not cold.
Not calculating.
Just… real.
Which made it worse.
I stepped back, smoothing my dress. "That won't happen again."
He didn't move. "It better not."
We didn't speak as we reentered the ballroom.
But the air between us had changed.
Leon's POV
When the cameras came out, I wrapped an arm around her waist like I was allowed to.
She leaned into me with the ease of a practiced actress.
Flash.
Smile.
Flash.
She turned her head slightly, just enough to whisper through her teeth.
"Do you always grab women like that, or am I special?"
I leaned closer, lips grazing her ear.
"Only the ones I own."
Her smile didn't falter.
But her nails dug into my arm just enough to make a point.
Let them think we were in love.
Let the world believe we were perfect.
Because behind closed doors, we were still playing with fire.
And neither of us knew who would burn first