Chapter 4 A New Life Begins

Adriana stood frozen in the grand hallway of Marco Romano's penthouse, her suitcase resting by her feet. The sheer size of the place overwhelmed her. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the New York skyline, the setting sun casting an amber glow over the towering skyscrapers. The floors were polished marble, reflecting the golden light from the crystal chandelier overhead.

This wasn't just a home-it was a statement. A world of wealth and power that she didn't belong in.

Marco's voice cut through her thoughts. "You're staring."

Adriana turned to find him watching her, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. He had shed his jacket, now in just his dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The sight of him like this-relaxed yet still exuding authority-made her uneasy.

"I've never seen a place like this," she admitted, her fingers tightening around the handle of her suitcase.

Marco smirked. "Get used to it. This is your home now."

She bristled at that. It wasn't home. It was a cage, no matter how luxurious.

"You'll have your own room," he continued, gesturing toward the hallway. "Last door on the right."

Adriana exhaled slowly, forcing herself to move. She dragged her suitcase down the hall, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the vast space. When she reached the door, she pushed it open and nearly gasped.

Her room was larger than her entire apartment.

A massive bed with plush, cream-colored bedding sat in the center, flanked by sleek nightstands. A walk-in closet took up an entire wall, and opposite the bed, glass doors led to a private balcony.

She let go of her suitcase and stepped inside, running her fingers along the silky drapes. Everything screamed wealth and comfort, yet she felt completely out of place.

The door clicked shut behind her.

She turned to find Marco leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"You don't like it," he observed.

Adriana hesitated. "It's not that. It's just... too much."

He tilted his head. "You expected a shoebox?"

She sighed. "I don't know what I expected."

Marco pushed off the doorframe and stepped toward her. "You're in my world now, Adriana. You might as well enjoy it."

She met his gaze, something unreadable passing between them. She didn't know what unsettled her more-the intensity in his eyes or the way he said her name, like he was testing how it felt on his tongue.

She quickly looked away. "I should get ready for the gala."

Marco's smirk returned. "Good. Your dress is waiting for you in the closet."

Then, just like that, he turned and left.

Adriana exhaled shakily.

One year. That was all.

She could survive this... couldn't she?

Dressing for Deception

The dress was exquisite.

Adriana stood before the full-length mirror, the silk gown cascading down her body in waves of midnight blue. The neckline dipped elegantly, revealing just enough skin to be alluring but not scandalous. The fabric hugged her waist before flowing down in a soft, dramatic train.

It was the kind of dress a woman wore when she wanted to be remembered.

She barely recognized herself.

A knock on the door made her jump.

"Come in," she called, adjusting the diamond bracelet that had come with the dress.

The door swung open, and Marco stepped inside.

Adriana's breath caught.

He was devastatingly handsome in a black tuxedo, the crisp lines of the jacket accentuating his broad shoulders. His dark hair was neatly styled, and the faintest hint of cologne filled the air as he stepped closer.

For a moment, he simply looked at her.

Then, in a voice lower than usual, he murmured, "You look... perfect."

Adriana's pulse quickened.

She forced herself to break eye contact. "I suppose this is the part where we pretend to be in love."

Marco chuckled, but there was something almost dangerous about his amusement. "Precisely."

He stepped behind her, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders. Their reflection in the mirror made them look like a real couple-like something out of a dream.

Or a lie.

"Shall we?" he murmured.

Adriana swallowed hard. "Let's get this over with."

Thrown to the Wolves

The gala was held at one of the most exclusive hotels in New York, the kind of place where only the ultra-wealthy gathered. The moment Marco and Adriana stepped out of the limousine, camera flashes exploded around them.

Adriana's fingers tightened around Marco's arm as he led her up the red carpet.

This is insane.

Whispers buzzed around them.

"That's Marco Romano's fiancée?"

"Where did she come from?"

"She doesn't look like his type."

Adriana kept her head high, forcing a confident smile as Marco guided her inside.

The ballroom was breathtaking.

A grand chandelier sparkled above, casting a golden glow over the crowd of New York's elite. Tables draped in ivory linens surrounded a polished dance floor, where couples swayed to the sound of a live orchestra.

Adriana felt completely out of place.

Marco, on the other hand, was in his element.

He greeted guests with smooth charm, introducing Adriana with a firm possessiveness that made her skin tingle. His hand never left the small of her back, a silent reminder of their roles.

But not everyone was convinced.

A woman approached, her expression cool, assessing.

She was stunning-raven-haired, sharp-eyed, draped in an emerald dress that hugged her curves.

"Marco," she purred. "It's been a while."

Adriana stiffened.

Marco's grip on her waist tightened slightly. "Sophia."

The woman-Sophia-flicked her gaze to Adriana, a slow smirk curving her lips. "And you must be the fiancée."

Adriana forced a polite smile. "Adriana Calloway."

Sophia sipped her champagne. "So tell me, Adriana... how did you and Marco meet?"

Adriana's heart pounded.

This was the test.

Marco answered smoothly, saving her. "Fate brought us together."

Sophia's smirk deepened. "How romantic."

Adriana's nails dug into Marco's arm. She could tell-this woman didn't believe a word of it.

And she wasn't the only one.

All around, eyes watched them, waiting for cracks in their performance.

One year, she reminded herself.

She just had to survive one year.

But something told her... it wouldn't be that simple.