Chapter 3 ACT 1: THE MARRIAGE DEAL

Chapter 3: A Reluctant Yes

I stepped into the Astoria Grand Hotel, my fingers curled into my palm, my pulse a steady drumbeat against my ribs.

The scent of expensive champagne and fresh roses lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of power, money, and deception.

I was standing in a room filled with the elite-the kind of people who looked down at the world from their glass towers, untouched by the struggles of ordinary people like me.

And yet, here I was, parading around as the soon-to-be wife of the most powerful man in the room.

Alessandro DeLuca.

The man who had made it his life's work to control everything around him. The man who now, by contract, owned me.

His touch was barely there, a ghost of pressure against my lower back, but it burned like a brand, a silent reminder that I was expected to play my part tonight.

That I was no longer just Sienna Monroe, journalist, fighter, daughter of a man struggling to breathe in a hospital bed.

I was now Sienna DeLuca, the woman who had willingly stepped into the cage with the lion, knowing full well that I might not make it out alive.

Eyes turned toward us, whispers riding the air like a snake weaving through the grass. I could feel their judgment, their disbelief, their curiosity.

No one had seen this coming. Alessandro DeLuca had been untouchable for years, a man who never let anyone close, a man who played the game of power without letting emotions get in the way.

And yet, here I was, standing beside him in a dress that clung to my body like sin, my hand resting lightly against his arm, my lips curved into a practiced, effortless smile.

But the moment I met her gaze from across the room, the air shifted.

Isabella Moretti.

She was stunning, the kind of woman who belonged in Alessandro's world, with her sharp emerald-green eyes and lips painted a dangerous shade of red.

She was the woman everyone had expected him to marry, the woman who had been on his arm for years before their scandalous breakup.

And now, she stood at the edge of the ballroom, her gaze locked onto me with an intensity that sent a slow, cold shiver down my spine.

Alessandro tensed beside me, just for a second, so quick that anyone else might have missed it. But I felt it. And that was enough.

She sauntered toward us, the crowd parting for her like she was royalty. Her smile was practiced, perfect, but I could see the venom lurking beneath it.

"Sienna Monroe," she said, her voice smooth, as if she were tasting my name on her tongue and deciding she didn't like it. "I have to say, this is quite the surprise."

I smiled back, refusing to let her rattle me. "Is it?"

Her gaze flickered to Alessandro, then back to me, something dark and knowing gleaming in her eyes. "You don't exactly seem like his type."

Alessandro didn't say a word. He simply watched, silent and unreadable, as if waiting to see how I would handle myself.

I tilted my head, letting my smile widen just a fraction. "And what exactly is his type?"

Her lips curved in amusement, but there was a challenge there, a silent warning. "Well," she mused, swirling the champagne in her glass, "let's just say his past choices have been a little more... refined."

I felt the tension coil in my stomach, but I refused to let her see it. I had spent years in rooms like this, surrounded by people who thrived on power plays, who wielded words like weapons and expected others to fold. But I wasn't going to fold.

I leaned in just slightly, lowering my voice enough that only she could hear me. "And yet, here I am."

Her smile flickered, just for a second, before she masked it. But I saw it. The brief crack in her confidence. The realization that I wasn't going to break just because she wanted me to.

Alessandro finally spoke, his voice smooth and sharp like a blade. "Isabella, I trust you're enjoying the evening?"

She turned to him, her expression shifting into something softer, something almost... intimate. "I was," she said, her voice dipping, "until now."

His gaze was unreadable, but there was something dangerous in the way he was watching her, something cold and final. "Then don't let us keep you."

It was a dismissal. A clear, undeniable dismissal.

For a brief second, I thought she might fight it, might push a little harder, might try to reclaim the ground she had just lost. But instead, she simply smiled, slow and knowing, before turning away, her movements graceful, effortless, calculated.

The moment she was gone, I exhaled slowly, the tension in my shoulders easing just slightly.

"Well," I murmured, "that was fun."

Alessandro glanced down at me, something unreadable flickering behind his gaze. "You handled that well."

I lifted a brow. "Were you expecting me to fail?"

His lips twitched, the closest thing to amusement I had seen from him all night. "I wasn't sure what to expect."

I tilted my head, studying him. "And what do you expect now?"

His gaze darkened, something shifting between us, something thick and heavy and unspoken.

"That," he murmured, "remains to be seen."

A waiter passed by, offering glasses of champagne, and Alessandro plucked one from the tray before handing it to me. I hesitated for a second before taking it, letting my fingers brush against his. The touch was brief, barely there, but it sent a sharp jolt of awareness through me.

I pulled my hand back too quickly, clearing my throat. "So what happens now?"

He sipped his drink, watching me over the rim of his glass. "Now, we give them what they want."

I frowned. "And what exactly is that?"

He set his glass down on a nearby table and turned to face me fully. "A show."

Before I could react, before I could even process what was happening, he reached for me, his fingers curling gently under my chin, tilting my face up toward his. The room around us seemed to blur, the whispers fading into the background as my pulse thundered in my ears.

And then, without hesitation, without warning, he kissed me.

It wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle. It was claiming. Possessive. Designed for the crowd but somehow meant only for me.

For a split second, I forgot where I was. I forgot the contract. I forgot the eyes watching us, the whispers, the cameras capturing this moment.

All I could feel was him-his lips against mine, the steady, unyielding warmth of his body so close to mine.

And then, just as quickly as it began, it was over.

He pulled back, his gaze steady, unreadable, as if that hadn't just changed everything.

The applause rippled through the room, loud and approving, and Alessandro smiled, turning toward the crowd as if he had just delivered exactly what they had wanted.

I, on the other hand, stood frozen, my lips tingling, my heart hammering against my ribs, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Because for the briefest moment, I had forgotten it was all a lie.