Chapter 4 Secrets In The Spotlight

Sophia stood in front of the mirror in her walk-in closet, tugging at the zipper of a blood-red gown that hugged her curves like a secret.

She would never worn anything so bold, so magnetic-and it scared her how good it felt.

"Let me guess your assistant picked this up too"?

Sophia asked with a smirking face.

"She has good taste" Damon replied her with a rare smile. "But you make it look better".

That startled her. A compliment,causal and real.

Not calculated. Not forced.

Sophia looked at him with a shocking face "Is that a line?"

"If it is,it's not in the script tho."

"How many of these events are we attending",she asked.

"Too many",he glanced at her. Tonight's the announcement brunch,high-society charity gala-one of the year's biggest events, private roof top garden. Paparazzi outside. Damon's world. Her debut.

Renée had spent hours perfecting Sophia's look: sleek waves, bold lips, diamond earrings that glinted like danger. Everything about her screamed money. Power. Ownership.

But beneath the surface, her nerves prickled.

"You'll do fine," Damon said from the doorway, his gaze sweeping over her with cool approval.

She turned slowly, meeting his eyes. He was in a black tux, sharp and devastating. The man didn't just wear power-he exuded it.

"You say that like I'm your latest investment," she murmured.

"You are."

Sophia arched a brow. "You could at least pretend I'm your wife."

He stepped forward, closing the space between them. "Pretending isn't my strength," he said, voice low.

Their eyes locked. The air between them thickened, heavy with something unspoken.

Then his phone buzzed.

Just like that, the moment shattered.

Damon glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening.

"Trouble?" she asked.

"An old one," he said. "Let's go."

The gala was a glittering affair held at the Waldorf Astoria-lights dripping from chandeliers, champagne flowing like rivers, and cameras poised at every turn.

Sophia had never seen so much silk, smugness, and subtext in one place.

Everyone wanted a piece of Damon Wolfe.

But no one looked at her like he did.

From across the ballroom, Damon's eyes never left her. Even while charming investors or cutting off journalists with practiced poise, he kept her in his orbit.

It was intoxicating.

They made their rounds, each smile rehearsed, each touch carefully placed for maximum effect. His hand at the small of her back.

The occasional whisper near her ear. The way his fingers lingered a beat too long around hers.

It was a performance_but it felt dangerously real.

"You're doing better than expected," he murmured as they paused near the bar.

Sophia smirked. "You sound surprised."

"I am," he admitted. "You're adapting to this world faster than most."

"Maybe I belong here more than you think."

Damon studied her, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Maybe you do."

Just then, a woman approached-tall, stunning, and dressed in icy silver. Her eyes zeroed in on Sophia like a sniper.

"Sophia Lane," she said smoothly, extending a hand. "I'm Celeste Rinaldi. Damon's former fiancée."

Sophia blinked, heartbeat stuttering.

Former what?

Damon stepped forward, his face unreadable. "Celeste."

"Still collecting pretty things, I see," Celeste said, eyes still fixed on Sophia. "You're definitely his type. Sweet, polished. Disposable."

Sophia straightened, her spine stiffening. "It's funny," she said sweetly, "I didn't realize exes got invitations to these events. Is that a perk or a pity?"

"So I'm not just playing fianceé"_i'm a chess piece I'm a corporate blood feud."

Celeste's smile faltered. "You have spirit. That won't last."

Damon's hand slid to Sophia's waist. "Enough, Celeste."

"Oh, I'm just saying hello," she purred before walking away, hips swaying with practiced cruelty.

Sophia turned to him, voice low. "Ex-fiancée? That didn't come up in our love story." Are you trying to fool

"It wasn't relevant."

"Really?" Sophia asked with teary eyes

I'm your wife, Damon."

"For now," he said quietly. "Let's not forget the contract."

His words landed like a slap.

For now.

Sophia looked away, anger rising in her chest. Not because he lied-but because she had started to care.

And that was very dangerous.

Later that night, back at the penthouse, Sophia stormed into the living room, pulling off her earrings and kicking off her heels.

"You could've warned me," she snapped.

Damon followed behind her, unbothered. "Celeste isn't important."

"She clearly thinks otherwise."

"She's trying to rattle you. Don't let her."

Sophia rounded on him. "You say that like it's easy to separate what's real from what's not. But I'm not just some puppet on your stage, Damon.

I'm a person. I have feelings too."

He crossed the room in two strides, suddenly inches from her.

"And what is it you feel, Sophia?"

Her breath caught. His eyes were fire and ice-burning and untouchable all at once.

"I feel like I'm losing myself in this," she whispered. "Like I'm becoming someone I don't recognize."

Damon's voice dropped. "Good. The old you would've been broken already."

She wanted to hit him. Or kiss him. Or both.

Instead, she stepped back.

"Is that what happened with Celeste?" she asked. "She broke, so you cut her out?"

His expression darkened. "She betrayed me. That's all you need to know."

"And what happens when I break the rules?"

He looked at her then-really looked at her-and for the first time, something raw cracked through his perfect exterior.

"Don't," he said. "Don't become a weakness."

She stared at him, heart pounding. "Then stop being mine."

The silence between them pulsed.

But neither moved.

That night, sleep refused to come. Sophia stood on the balcony again, wrapped in a silk red robe, eyes on the glittering skyline.

She thought of her mother in the hospital, her sketchbook gathering dust, her signature on that contract.

Then she thought of Celeste's warning.

And Damon's haunted look.

This arrangement was more than it seemed. It was overwhelming.

Secrets lived in the shadows of their deal.

And if Sophia wasn't careful, she wouldn't just lose her freedom.

She might lose her heart.