Chapter 5 The Rules of the Game

Adriana sat stiffly in the back of the limousine, staring out at the flashing city lights as Marco lounged beside her, exuding the effortless confidence of a man who had played this game a thousand times before. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, mingling with the soft leather of the seats.

The gala had been a battlefield masked in luxury. Every glance, every whispered conversation had carried unspoken suspicions. And Sophia-Marco's ex-lover-had made it clear she wasn't convinced by their so-called engagement.

Adriana could still feel the weight of those watchful eyes.

She turned to Marco, folding her arms. "You could have warned me about her."

Marco smirked, his gaze drifting lazily over her. "Would it have changed anything?"

"Yes," she shot back. "I would've been prepared."

Marco exhaled, shifting in his seat so that he faced her more directly. "Sophia is irrelevant. She's just another person who enjoys stirring the pot. She doesn't matter."

Adriana narrowed her eyes. "She seemed to think she mattered."

Marco chuckled, but there was something unreadable in his expression. "Sophia doesn't like losing. And right now, she sees you as a challenge."

A challenge.

Not a fiancée, not a threat, but a pawn in someone else's game.

Adriana turned back to the window, gripping the hem of her dress. What have I gotten myself into?

A New Arrangement

The limousine pulled up to Marco's penthouse. Adriana stepped out first, her heels clicking softly against the marble driveway as she made her way inside.

The air in the penthouse felt different tonight. Heavier.

Adriana barely made it past the living room before Marco's voice stopped her.

"Sit."

She turned to find him loosening his tie, his sharp eyes pinned on her.

Adriana hesitated. "Why?"

"Because we need to establish some rules."

She exhaled and sank onto the couch. "Oh, so now we're setting rules?"

Marco's smirk was brief as he poured himself a drink. "You seemed to do just fine tonight. But we're in this for a year, and I don't plan on leaving anything to chance."

Adriana watched him take a sip of his whiskey before he settled into the chair across from her.

"Rule one," he began. "When we're in public, you don't hesitate. If someone asks how we met, if they ask about our relationship, you answer confidently."

Adriana raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly is our relationship?"

Marco leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "We met at a charity event. We were drawn to each other instantly. We've been together for over a year, and I proposed six months ago. You were hesitant at first, but I convinced you."

Adriana frowned. "That's ridiculous. How am I supposed to fake that level of history?"

Marco's gaze darkened. "Learn fast."

Her stomach twisted.

He continued. "Rule two. You stay here. No unexpected trips, no random outings without security. The press is already watching."

Adriana bristled. "I'm not a prisoner."

"No," Marco said smoothly. "But you are my fiancée. And my fiancée wouldn't be seen running around the city like she's hiding something."

Adriana clenched her jaw.

"Rule three," Marco went on, "When we're in private, we keep things professional. No unnecessary arguments, no petty fights. We have a deal, and we both benefit from it."

Adriana rolled her eyes. "Is that your way of saying I shouldn't annoy you?"

Marco smirked. "It's my way of saying I expect you to act like the intelligent woman you are."

Adriana crossed her arms. "Fine. And what's the fourth rule?"

Marco set his glass down and met her gaze.

"When the time comes," he said, voice smooth as silk, "we will have to be convincing."

A chill ran down Adriana's spine. "Convincing how?"

Marco's eyes held hers, unwavering. "People will expect a certain level of intimacy."

Adriana's pulse spiked.

"You mean-"

"A kiss. Touching. Whispered conversations." His lips curled slightly. "You'll have to look at me like I'm the love of your life. And I'll have to do the same."

Adriana's throat went dry.

She had known this would be part of the deal, but hearing him say it-stating it so casually-sent a shiver through her.

Marco stood, adjusting his cufflinks. "We have a busy few weeks ahead. You'll be meeting my business associates, attending events, making sure no one doubts us."

He turned toward the hallway, then paused.

"Get some rest, Adriana," he said without looking back. "Tomorrow, your training begins."

Then he disappeared into his room, leaving her sitting there, heart pounding.

Training for Deception

The next morning, Adriana was woken by a sharp knock on her door.

She groaned, burying her face in the pillow. "Go away."

The door swung open anyway.

Marco stood in the doorway, looking infuriatingly put-together in a crisp black shirt and tailored trousers.

"Up," he ordered. "We start now."

Adriana groaned again but forced herself to sit up. "Start what exactly?"

Marco smirked. "Your transformation."

An hour later, Adriana sat in front of a mirror while a stylist fussed over her hair.

Marco leaned against the wall, watching. "You'll need to learn how to walk into a room and command attention."

Adriana arched an eyebrow. "Like you?"

He gave her a slow smile. "Exactly."

The stylist finished, and Adriana turned to the mirror.

Her usual soft waves had been replaced with sleek, glossy curls. Her makeup was subtle yet elegant, emphasizing her features.

She looked... different.

Stronger.

Marco walked over, tilting her chin up slightly. "Good. Now, let's work on the way you speak."

Adriana rolled her eyes. "What's wrong with the way I speak?"

"You hesitate." Marco smirked. "And a woman in your position never hesitates."

Adriana frowned. "I thought I was supposed to be your fiancée, not some business protégé."

Marco's smirk deepened. He leaned in slightly, his voice a quiet murmur.

"In this world, the line between the two doesn't exist."

Something about the way he said it sent a chill down Adriana's spine.

She didn't know what unsettled her more-the realization that Marco saw everything as a calculated move... or the creeping suspicion that she was already losing herself to the game.

Because when she looked in the mirror again, she wasn't just playing a role.

She was becoming it.