The grand foyer of the Sterling Gallery was a sea of black ties, silk gowns, and the muted clinking of champagne flutes. This was the playground of the city's elite, a place where reputations were made or destroyed over a single glass of vintage bubbly.
Rhea felt Julian's hand slide firmly around her waist as they stepped out of the Maybach. The emerald silk of her dress clung to her curves, and the weight of the emerald pendant Julian had fastened around her neck felt like a beautiful, heavy shackle.
"Keep your head up," Julian whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "You aren't a guest tonight, Rhea. You're the centerpiece."
As they crossed the threshold, a hush rippled through the room. It started at the door and moved like a wave toward the back of the hall. Julian Vane, the man who treated social events like a chore, was here. And he wasn't alone.
Rhea kept her expression neutral, her eyes wide with a carefully practiced "confusion." Every flash of a camera felt like a spotlight on her lie.
"Julian! We heard rumors, but we didn't believe it," a stout man in a tuxedo chirped, scurrying over. He was a major gallery donor, someone Rhea recognized from her marketing research days. "Is this the lovely woman you've been keeping hidden?"
Julian didn't smile, but his grip on Rhea's waist tightened possessively. "This is Rhea Silvan. My fiancée. She's been recovering from a minor accident, but she insisted on supporting the arts tonight."
Rhea felt a dozen pairs of eyes scanning her. She saw pity, envy, and deep suspicion.
"Rhea?" a sharp voice called out.
Rhea turned slightly. Standing near a modern sculpture were Leo and Sarah. Leo looked like he had seen a ghost. His jaw was slack, and he was clutching a glass of cheap house wine like a lifeline. Sarah, dressed in a bright red gown that screamed for attention, looked absolutely livid.
They shouldn't have been here. This was an invite-only event for the top one percent.
Julian's eyes darkened as he noticed them. "I see the trash hasn't been collected yet," he murmured, his voice only for Rhea.
Leo stumbled forward, nearly tripping over a waiter. "Rhea? What are you doing with him? You... you don't even know him!"
The surrounding guests leaned in, their ears practically twitching with hunger for a scandal.
Rhea blinked slowly, looking at Leo with a blank, polite tilt of her head. "I'm sorry. Have we met?"
The "face-slap" was instantaneous. A few socialites nearby smothered titters behind their hands. Leo turned a shade of purple that matched his tie.
"Have we met? Rhea, it's Leo! I'm your—"
"He's an obsessed fan," Julian interrupted, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. He didn't raise his voice, but the authority was absolute. "He's been hounding Miss Silvan since her accident, claiming a history that doesn't exist. Security?"
Two large men in black suits appeared from the shadows behind Julian.
"Wait!" Sarah shrieked, stepping forward. "I'm her best friend! Rhea, tell them! Tell them you live with Leo!"
Rhea looked at Sarah, her gaze cooling into ice. "If you were my friend, you would know that I am engaged to Julian. And you certainly wouldn't be clinging to a stranger's arm at a gala."
Sarah looked down at her hand, which was still clamped onto Leo's sleeve. She let go as if it were red-hot, her face burning.
"Take them out," Julian ordered. "And ensure their names are blacklisted from every Vane-affiliated venue in the country."
As the guards dragged a shouting Leo and a sobbing Sarah out of the gallery, the room exploded into whispers. Julian didn't acknowledge the spectacle. He simply took a glass of champagne from a passing tray and handed it to Rhea.
"You handled that perfectly," he said softly.
"They looked so desperate," Rhea whispered, her heart racing. It felt good. Better than she expected. Seeing the shock on their faces was the first time she felt like she was winning.
"Desperate people do desperate things," Julian said. He led her toward a quiet corner, away from the prying eyes of the crowd. "Which is why I've doubled the security at the estate. I don't want anything—or anyone—reminding you of a past that doesn't belong to you."
Rhea took a sip of the champagne. The bubbles stung her throat. "Julian, back there... you said he was a fan. Everyone in our old circle knows we were together. Won't they realize you're lying?"
Julian stepped closer, his body shielding her from the room. He reached out and traced the line of her jaw with his thumb.
"People believe what they are told by the person with the most power," he said, his eyes locking onto hers. "By tomorrow, the newspapers will run the story of our long-term, private engagement. I've already bought the silence of your old employer. Your social media accounts have been... updated."
Rhea's hand trembled. "Updated?"
"Everything that connected you to that man has been erased, Rhea. In the eyes of the public, Leo Thorne never existed in your life."
A cold realization washed over her. Julian wasn't just helping her with her "prank." He was systematically deleting her actual life and replacing it with a fiction he controlled. He was gaslighting the entire world for her.
"Why go to this much trouble?" she asked, her voice a mere breath. "You could have any woman in this room. Why me?"
Julian leaned in until his lips were brushing her ear. The possessiveness in his tone was suffocating and intoxicating all at once.
"Because you're the only one who didn't want me," he whispered. "Ten years ago, you walked past me in a library and didn't even look up. Five years ago, you rejected my company's job offer to stay with that loser. I've been patient, Rhea. But I'm done waiting."
He pulled back, a dark, triumphant look in his eyes.
"You think you're playing a game with your amnesia," he said, his voice dropping to a level that made her blood turn to ice. "But I've been playing this game since before you even knew my name. So keep pretending, Rhea. I enjoy the act. But don't ever think for a second that you're the one in control."
Rhea froze. The glass nearly slipped from her hand.
He knows.
He knew she was faking. He had known the whole time. And he was letting her do it because it made it easier for him to own her.