The car door opened into chaos.
Cameras flashed so suddenly and so violently that Aaliyah flinched, instinctively lifting a hand to shield her eyes. Voices overlapped—shouted questions, her name twisted on unfamiliar tongues, Rowan's name spoken with awe and hunger.
"Rowan! Who is she?"
"When did this start?"
"Is this your new partner?"
"Are the rumors true?"
Rowan stepped out first.
She didn't hesitate. She didn't blink. She moved like this was her natural habitat—chin lifted, posture relaxed, expression composed to the point of indifference. The noise bent around her, not the other way around.
A second later, Rowan turned back and extended her hand.
Aaliyah froze.
For half a heartbeat, panic surged. This wasn't in the rehearsed answers. This wasn't in the rules she'd memorized.
Rowan's hand stayed there, steady and expectant.
Aaliyah took it.
The contact sent a sharp, unexpected jolt up her arm. Rowan's grip was firm, warm, grounding in a way Aaliyah hadn't anticipated. The noise seemed to fade just slightly as Rowan drew her closer, positioning her at her side with practiced ease.
"This way," Rowan said quietly, her voice low enough that only Aaliyah could hear.
They moved forward together.
Flashes intensified. Someone shouted Aaliyah's name again—louder this time, triumphant at having confirmed it.
Aaliyah forced her lips into a smile, just as she'd been told. She kept her steps measured, her shoulders back, her gaze forward. Inside, her heart hammered so hard she was sure everyone could hear it.
At the entrance to the gala hall, Rowan paused.
She turned just enough to lean in, her breath warm against Aaliyah's ear.
"You're doing well," Rowan murmured. "Breathe."
The words steadied her more than they should have.
Inside, the noise shifted. Music swelled, elegant and smooth, blending with laughter and conversation. Crystal chandeliers cast soft light over a sea of gowns and tailored suits. Everything gleamed.
Aaliyah felt painfully out of place.
Rowan did not.
People approached them almost immediately—smiling, polished, curious. Rowan greeted them all with the same effortless charm, introducing Aaliyah simply as my partner. No explanations. No elaborations.
Each time Rowan said it, something twisted in Aaliyah's chest.
She nodded, smiled, spoke when prompted. She answered rehearsed questions smoothly, surprised at how natural the lies began to feel.
Half an hour in, her face ached from smiling.
"Drink?" Rowan asked quietly, handing her a glass of sparkling water before Aaliyah could answer.
"Thank you."
Rowan's gaze flicked briefly to the glass, then back to Aaliyah's face, as if checking. Approving.
They stood near a balcony overlooking the city, momentarily shielded from the crowd.
"You didn't freeze," Rowan said. "That matters."
Aaliyah exhaled. "I almost did."
"But you didn't."
There was no praise in Rowan's tone. Just acknowledgment.
A woman approached them then—elegant, older, her smile sharp with curiosity. "Rowan," she said warmly. "You've been keeping secrets."
Rowan's posture shifted subtly. "Elena."
Aaliyah felt it immediately—the tension.
"Elena Blackwood," the woman said, turning her attention to Aaliyah. "I'm Rowan's sister."
Aaliyah straightened. "It's nice to meet you."
Elena studied her openly, her gaze lingering just a little too long. "Likewise," she said. "You're… unexpected."
Rowan's jaw tightened. "Elena."
"I mean that as a compliment," Elena replied smoothly. "You usually prefer control over surprises."
Her eyes flicked back to Aaliyah. "How long have you two been together?"
Aaliyah hesitated.
Rowan answered instantly. "Long enough."
The finality in her voice shut the conversation down.
Elena's smile widened, but her eyes cooled. "Well," she said lightly, "welcome to the family orbit. It's… intense."
With that, she drifted back into the crowd.
Aaliyah released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
"Was that okay?" she asked quietly.
Rowan nodded once. "You did exactly what you were supposed to."
Supposed to.
They stood in silence for a moment, the city lights glittering beyond the balcony glass.
Aaliyah became suddenly, painfully aware of how close Rowan was. Of the heat at her side. Of the way Rowan's presence seemed to shield her from the world, even as it trapped her inside it.
Rowan glanced down at her then.
For the briefest moment, something unreadable crossed her face—something sharp and thoughtful.
"You're adapting quickly," Rowan said.
Aaliyah looked up at her. "I don't have a choice."
Rowan didn't deny it.
Instead, she said, "Careful. That's how people lose themselves."
The words landed heavier than expected.
Before Aaliyah could respond, another flash of cameras erupted nearby, and Rowan's hand slid to the small of her back, guiding her forward once more.
Aaliyah went with her.
Because tonight wasn't about comfort.
It was about survival.
And she was beginning to realize—
Surviving Rowan Blackwood might be harder than she'd ever imagined.
The gala blurred into a cycle of faces and names Aaliyah knew she wouldn't remember tomorrow.
Rowan moved through the crowd with controlled precision, her hand never leaving Aaliyah's back for long. The touch was light, almost casual, but it anchored Aaliyah in place—directing her steps, reminding her where she belonged.
At one point, a man in a silver-gray suit lingered too close.
His smile was polite, but his eyes roamed with an entitlement that made Aaliyah's skin crawl.
"And you are?" he asked, extending his hand to Aaliyah without looking away from her face.
Rowan answered before Aaliyah could. "Occupied."
The word was calm. Sharp. Final.
The man laughed awkwardly, withdrawing his hand. "Of course. My apologies."
He disappeared into the crowd.
Aaliyah's heart raced. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until it rushed out of her lungs.
Rowan leaned closer. "Don't let anyone corner you," she murmured. "If they do, you look at me."
Aaliyah nodded. "Okay."
They moved again, weaving through the room, until Rowan stopped beside a group of investors. The conversation shifted quickly to numbers, acquisitions, projected growth. Aaliyah listened quietly, her presence acknowledged but not required.
She became invisible again.
The irony burned.
Rowan's hand slipped from her back as the discussion deepened. Aaliyah shifted her weight, suddenly unsure where to put herself.
A woman approached then—young, striking, dressed in a deep red gown that seemed designed to draw attention.
"Well," the woman said brightly, her gaze flicking between them, "this explains a lot."
Rowan's expression barely changed. "Tess."
Aaliyah felt the temperature drop.
"And you must be the mystery," Tess said, turning fully toward Aaliyah. Her smile was friendly, but something sharp glinted beneath it. "I'm Tess Whitman."
Aaliyah forced a polite smile. "Aaliyah."
Tess tilted her head. "You're not what I expected."
Rowan's jaw tightened again. "This isn't the time."
Tess laughed softly. "Relax. I'm just curious. We all are."
Her gaze lingered on Rowan. "You disappear for weeks, cancel dinners, ignore calls… and suddenly you appear with this."
Aaliyah's stomach twisted.
Rowan's voice hardened. "Watch your tone."
Tess raised her hands in mock surrender. "I'm not attacking. I'm surprised."
She looked back at Aaliyah, eyes assessing. "You should know," she said lightly, "Rowan doesn't do attachments."
Aaliyah felt the words like a slap.
Rowan stepped closer, placing herself subtly between them. "Tess, leave."
Tess's smile faded. For a moment, something like hurt crossed her face before it was masked again.
"Of course," she said. "Enjoy the evening."
She walked away without another glance.
Silence stretched.
"I'm sorry," Aaliyah said quietly, unsure what she was apologizing for.
Rowan didn't respond immediately. Her shoulders were tense, her gaze distant.
"You didn't do anything wrong," Rowan said finally.
They moved to the edge of the room, where the music softened and the crowd thinned.
"Who was she?" Aaliyah asked, keeping her voice low.
Rowan took a sip of her drink. "An inconvenience."
"That didn't sound… casual."
Rowan's eyes flicked to hers. "Don't analyze."
The warning was clear.
Aaliyah nodded, chastened.
But the seed had already been planted.
Rowan doesn't do attachments.
The phrase echoed in her head as the night dragged on.
When the gala finally ended, Aaliyah's feet ached and her smile felt brittle. The cameras returned in force outside, flashes exploding once more as Rowan guided her toward the car.
This time, Rowan's grip tightened around Aaliyah's waist.
Protective.
Possessive.
Inside the car, silence fell heavily between them.
Aaliyah stared out the window, her reflection staring back at her—composed, polished, and utterly alone.
Rowan broke the silence. "You handled yourself well."
Aaliyah turned. "Even with Tess?"
Rowan's jaw clenched. "Especially then."
The car slowed as they neared the tower.
Aaliyah hesitated, then spoke. "Do you regret this?"
Rowan looked at her sharply. "Regret what?"
"This," Aaliyah said. "Me."
The question hung between them, fragile and dangerous.
The car stopped.
Rowan didn't answer right away.
When she finally did, her voice was steady, unreadable.
"Regret isn't useful," she said. "Control is."
The door opened.
Aaliyah stepped out, her heart sinking with the certainty of it,
Whatever this was becoming, Rowan Blackwood would never let it be simple.
And that realization hurt more than she was ready to admit.
The penthouse was quiet when they returned.
Too quiet.
Aaliyah slipped off her heels near the entrance, her feet aching as they touched the cool marble floor. The adrenaline that had carried her through the night began to drain away, leaving exhaustion in its wake.
Rowan loosened the cufflinks at her wrist, her movements precise, controlled. She didn't look at Aaliyah at first.
"You'll need to get used to nights like that," Rowan said. "Public appearances. Scrutiny. Questions you can't answer."
Aaliyah nodded. "I understand."
Rowan turned then, studying her with a gaze that felt sharper in the absence of witnesses.
"You didn't break," Rowan continued. "That matters."
The words echoed those from earlier, but here, in the quiet, they felt different. Heavier.
Aaliyah hesitated, then spoke. "You didn't have to defend me back there."
Rowan's brow furrowed slightly. "Yes, I did."
"Why?" Aaliyah asked before she could stop herself.
Rowan's eyes darkened. "Because you're mine."
The possessiveness in her tone sent a shiver through Aaliyah—not entirely fear, not entirely something else.
"I'm not an object," Aaliyah said softly, her voice trembling despite her effort to stay calm.
Rowan stepped closer. "No," she agreed. "You're an asset."
The word cut deep.
Aaliyah took a step back. "That's all I am to you?"
Rowan's gaze lingered on her face, unreadable. For a moment, it seemed like she might say something else—something honest.
Instead, she said, "You're what I need."
Silence stretched between them.
Aaliyah hugged her arms around herself. "And if I stop being useful?"
Rowan's jaw tightened. "That won't happen if you follow the rules."
There it was again.
The cage, closing tighter.
Rowan turned away first. "Get some rest. Tomorrow will be worse."
"Worse how?" Aaliyah asked.
Rowan paused at the doorway. "Tomorrow, the world decides who you are."
She left without another word.
Aaliyah stood there long after, staring at the space Rowan had occupied. Her chest felt tight, emotions tangling painfully inside her.
She retreated to her room and closed the door behind her, leaning against it as if holding the world out.
Her phone buzzed.
Maya: Please tell me you're safe. I'm worried.
Aaliyah slid down onto the floor, her back against the door.
Aaliyah: I'm safe, she typed, the lie bitter on her tongue. I promise.
She stared at the message, then added:
Aaliyah: I'll explain soon.
She set the phone aside and pressed her palms to her eyes.
Tonight had shown her something she hadn't wanted to see.
Rowan Blackwood wasn't cruel.
She was controlled. Calculated. Unyielding.
And Aaliyah was beginning to understand the most dangerous truth of all
The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to remember who she was before the contract.
Because somewhere between the flashes, the touches, and the careful words…
A part of her had already started to change.