You'd think one viral kiss would satisfy the internet.But no.Apparently, they now want a sequel. A cinematic universe of PDA. 🙄
The hashtags are ridiculous —
#KissMeLikeLyra#CEOOfLove (I gagged)#PowerCoupleGoals
My DMs are flooded. Random strangers are telling me I "healed their trust issues."I haven't even healed my skin barrier, but thank you, internet.
Meanwhile, Darian is pretending the entire thing never happened.He's in his study, glued to his laptop, typing like he's negotiating peace between two galaxies.
I stand at the door, sipping coffee. "So, Mr. CEO, how does it feel being the internet's favorite husband?"
He doesn't even look up. "Humiliating."
"Come on," I tease. "You enjoyed that kiss."
"I tolerated it," he says calmly.
I gasp dramatically. "Wow. You tolerate me so passionately."
He finally looks up, eyes glinting. "You really can't go five minutes without provoking me, can you?"
I grin. "It's part of my charm."
He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, "That's debatable."
A soft knock interrupts us. Aria, our PR head, steps in — carrying her ever-present iPad and caffeine IV drip energy.
"Good news!" she chirps. "The kiss reached ten million views!"
"Bad news," Darian deadpans.
"Good for engagement," Aria insists. "People love you two! They're calling you the real-life enemies-to-lovers. We need to lean in — do a couple vlog, maybe a charity event together, or—"
"No," Darian says immediately.
"Yes," I counter at the same time.
Aria beams. "Majority wins! I'll schedule a Q&A livestream."
Darian groans. I clap my hands. "Oh, this'll be fun."
By the time we go live that evening, the chat box is already exploding:
"LYRARIAN FOREVER 😍🔥""HE LOOKS AT HER LIKE THAT 😭😭😭""Can we get another kiss pls?"
I grin at the screen. "Wow, everyone's really invested in our fake romance."
Darian shoots me a warning look. "We agreed not to say fake."
"Oops," I say sweetly. "Must've slipped out."
The comments blow up.
"FAKE? NOOO 😭😭😭""Girl, don't break my heart like that 😩."
I laugh. "Relax, guys. He's totally head over heels for me. Right, darling?"
He hesitates a beat too long. "...Of course."
The way he says it — calm, deep, deliberate — sends a weird flutter through my stomach.
"Oh wow," I say, "say it like that again and I might start believing you."
He gives me a side glance. "Maybe you should."
For a second, I forget the camera exists.His eyes are on mine, steady and unreadable — and yet, something there feels real.
Aria's voice crackles through the speaker. "You're still live, guys."
I blink. "Right! Anyway—next question!"
"Who said I love you first?" someone comments.
I grin. "Me, obviously."
"I'm pretty sure I didn't hear that," Darian says.
"You wouldn't. You're emotionally tone-deaf."
The viewers lose it.
"HELP SHE'S SO FUNNY 😂😂😂""I ship them so hard.""This is couple therapy disguised as content."
After the livestream, I throw myself on the couch, exhausted but buzzing.
Darian sits across from me, arms folded. "You enjoy this too much."
"Someone has to," I say. "You treat life like a board meeting."
He looks at me quietly for a long moment. "And you treat it like a stage."
"Maybe," I admit softly. "But at least I'm honest about the performance."
He leans forward. "You think I'm not?"
"I think you're terrified of being real."
The words hang between us like static.He looks away first. "Maybe I am."
The honesty stings — not because it's harsh, but because it's rare.
I swallow, unsure what to say. "For what it's worth," I murmur, "you're a decent fake husband."
He almost smiles. "And you're a very convincing fake wife."
"Cheers to that," I say, clinking my coffee mug against his invisible glass.
Later that night, after he goes to bed, I scroll through our comments again.
People are swooning, laughing, writing fanfics (?!). Someone even started a petition to make us brand ambassadors for "Modern Love."
I roll my eyes — then stop.
Because at the bottom of the page, there's one new comment that makes my stomach drop.
"You two look cute. Shame one of you is lying."
My pulse quickens. I tap on the username — deleted.
Then, a second later, my phone buzzes.
Still playing pretend, Mrs. Malhotra? Even the best actors forget their lines eventually.
The message vanishes just like before.
I stare at the blank screen, heart pounding.
Because for the first time since this circus began…I'm starting to wonder if the lie we built is hiding a bigger one underneath.
And if Darian isn't the only one wearing a mask. 🎭