"Too Real"
I knew it was coming.
The kiss. The staged, fake, "for the cameras" kiss that was part of the contract.
I had rehearsed it in my mind a thousand times. Smile. Tilt head. Quick, polite, nothing more. Don't touch. Don't look. Don't feel.
Yet the moment Dominic's hand brushed my waist, everything went wrong.
"Ready?" he asked quietly, right before the photographers' flashes began. His voice was calm, steady. Too calm.
"I… I'm ready," I whispered, even though my stomach was doing backflips. My hands trembled. My chest felt like it had been squeezed in a vice.
"Relax," he murmured. "Just follow the plan. Smile. Quick, polite. That's all."
I nodded. "Quick. Polite."
We moved together. He tilted my chin slightly. The cameras clicked. I forced my lips against his. Quick, fake, nothing more.
Except it didn't stay quick.
His hand pressed against my back. Closer. My body betrayed me. Heat coursed through me, uninvited, uncontrolled. My breath hitched. My heart raced.
I tried to pull back. I tried to remind myself. Fake. Fake. Fake.
But his lips lingered. The press of his mouth against mine, the warmth, the weight, it… it felt too real.
I gasped softly, finally breaking the kiss, pulling away. My cheeks burned. My hands shook.
He blinked. Just slightly. But I saw it. The first flicker of unsettlement I had ever seen in him. Gray eyes, usually calm and controlled, now… uncertain.
"You" I started, but couldn't find the words.
He didn't speak either. Just stared, eyes locked on mine for a heartbeat too long. My body shivered. Panic and something I hated coiled inside me.
"Smile for the cameras," he said quietly, forcing control back into his voice. "Act normal."
I swallowed, my chest tight. I forced a smile. Quick. Polite. Like I was supposed to. But inside… chaos. Fire. Confusion. Heat I didn't want.
I saw her. Camille. Across the room. Her gaze was sharp, predatory. Eyes narrowed. She was watching. Watching everything. And my stomach sank.
"Don't let her see anything," I muttered under my breath.
Dominic's hand brushed mine lightly, almost accidentally. My body responded again. My heart leapt. Panic clawed at my chest.
"You're trembling," he murmured, voice low. Quiet, private. Too private for a room full of cameras and strangers.
"I" I stammered. "I'm fine. I… it's nothing."
"Doesn't feel like nothing," he said softly, his thumb brushing mine. "Relax. Control it."
"I" I stopped myself. Breathless. Shaking. Wanting to scream. I want to run. Wanting… something I hated admitting.
He leaned closer, almost whispering. "Mira… don't forget. This is fake. For the cameras. Nothing more. Remember the rules."
"I… I do," I said shakily. "I… I remember."
And yet, the heat in my chest said otherwise. The way my body betrayed me said otherwise.
The photographers snapped endlessly. Flashes. Clicks. Eyes watching. Recording. Judging.
I forced my posture straight. Smile. Polite. Fake. All fake.
He guided me through the crowd, his hand lingering at my back just enough to make my breath hitch, but not enough to be obvious.
"I can't believe this," I muttered under my breath. "I… I hate this. I hate you. I hate myself."
He leaned closer again, his voice just for me. "Hate is okay. It means you're alive. It means you care. It also means you'll survive. Just don't lose control."
I swallowed hard, forcing my legs to move, forcing the calm, polite, fake smile for the cameras. Inside… my chest was a storm. My blood burned. My stomach twisted.
And then, across the room… her. Camille. Watching. Smiling slightly. That knowing, dangerous smile that promised trouble.
I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. I was rooted. Heart racing. Shame burning. Desire coiling. Fear twisting.
Dominic leaned closer, voice low, almost a growl. "Remember. Nothing real. Not yet. Not ever. This is the contract. The rules. You obey."
"I… I'm obeying," I whispered, though my voice shook. "I… I have to."
"Good." His hand brushed mine again. Heat, light, electric. My stomach twisted. "Keep your head. Keep your smile. Keep your control. One mistake… and it's over. One glance at her… and she'll take it all."
I swallowed hard. "I… I won't."
"You can't afford not to," he said softly, eyes scanning the crowd. "Not tonight. Not ever."
I forced my body to smile again, walking beside him, feeling the heat, the weight, the control, the tension. Every instinct in me screamed. I hated myself for it. Hated him. Hated what I felt.
And then… my phone vibrated.
I froze. Panic clawed at my chest. My heart leapt. A message. From Camille.
I glanced down. A photo. Zoomed in. Intimate. The kiss. The one I thought was private. The one that was supposed to be fake.
My stomach dropped. My face burned. My hands shook violently.
Dominic noticed immediately. His gaze snapped to me, sharp. "What is it?"
I stammered, unable to speak. The room felt like it closed in around me. Cameras, eyes, strangers… all irrelevant. One image, one threat, one predator.
"She… she sent me a photo," I whispered. "Camille… of… the kiss…"
Dominic's gray eyes darkened. Calm. Dangerous. A storm brewing behind the calm. "Show me."
I hesitated. My fingers trembled as I held the phone out. He took it smoothly, scanning the image. His jaw tightened slightly, almost imperceptibly.
"She's dangerous," he said quietly, handing the phone back. "And now she has leverage. Watch her. Expect moves. Expect lies. And most importantly… expect betrayal."
I swallowed hard, chest tight. "I… I didn't"
"You didn't do that?" he asked, voice low, deadly calm. "You didn't stop it? You didn't anticipate her?"
"I" I started, panic rising. "I… it was supposed to be private! I… I… didn't know she was watching!"
He didn't answer immediately. Just looked at me, eyes sharp. "Private doesn't exist with her. And private doesn't exist with you anymore. Every action, every glance, every mistake… she'll use it. And so will the board. So will everyone. Understand?"
"Yes," I whispered. "I… I understand."
"You need to," he said firmly. "Or it's over. Not just for the gala, not just for the contract… for everything. She's the first threat. There are more coming."
I swallowed hard. "I… I didn't sign up for this. I… I can't… I"
"You signed up for survival," he interrupted, voice sharp. "For his life. For your father. For the contract. And tonight… survival is all that matters. Keep your head. Keep your mask. And most importantly… control yourself."
"Yes," I whispered, voice shaking. "I… I will."
And yet, inside… my chest burned, my stomach twisted, my heart pounded. I hated what I felt. I hated him. I hated myself.
And I realized… The contract wasn't just a set of rules. It was a trap. A cage. A war. And I had just stepped fully inside.
My phone buzzed again. Another message. From Camille. I hesitated. My hands shook. And then I read it: "Enjoy your kiss, Mira. Everyone is watching even more than you know."