Chapter 3 Pretending to be in Love

Isabella's breaths steadily as Benjamin's words sank in.

"So tonight... we'll practice pretending to be in love."

He was so close, she could feel the warmth radiating off his skin. The scent of him clean, glittering skin, mixed with something darker wrapped around her like a ribbon.

"Practice?" she repeated, her voice breathy.

His lips curved. "Yes. Smile for the camera, darling. That's what you signed up for, isn't it?"

She stepped back, her spine straightening like a bent cord. "I'm not some puppet you can pose and command."

Benjamin sips the whiskey in his glass, unbothered. "You'll need to learn fast. The board meeting is tomorrow. If they don't believe this marriage is real, the company's next acquisition falls through."

"And that affects me how?"

He met her gaze with icy calm. "Because if I lose this deal... you lose your contract. And your money."

Of course. Always about power with him.

He moved to the couch and sat down, legs stretched out like a king at ease. "Now come sit, Mrs. Mateo. I want to see how convincing your affection looks up close."

She clenched her fists, her pride warring with her circumstances. But a million dollars was a loud motivator. biting her lips, she walked over and sat beside him.

"Closer," he said, voice low.

She inched toward him, until their thighs touched. His heat bled through his clothes into her skin. She could feel every muscle in his body, coiled and controlled.

"Now smile," he murmured. "Touch my arm. Look like you want me."

Her hand trembled as it landed lightly on his forearm.

He raised an eyebrow. "That's all you've got? That's not desire. That's fear."

She turned to face him fully. Her face flowed, but her gaze didn't change. Slowly, she leaned in, her fingers sliding up his sleeve to his shoulder, her mouth only inches from his.

"How about this?" she whispered. "Convincing enough, husband?"

His eyes darkened, and for the first time, something rang through his mind. Desire. Hunger. Challenge.

But he didn't kiss her.

Instead, he stood.

"That'll do for tonight," he said.

She blinked. "You're serious?"

"I don't play games, Isabella. I only win them."

He walked toward his room without another word, his posture calm but his jaw visibly tight.

So he's not made of stone after all.

______

The next morning, Isabella stood in front of the boardroom mirror, nerves tying knots in her stomach. Her reflection showed a woman in a crisp white blouse, high waisted navy skirt, and a designer necklace borrowed, of course.

She looked like a CEO's wife.

Even if she felt like a gamer.

Benjamin appeared behind her in the mirror, adjusting his cufflinks. "You ready to lie to twelve men who've invested millions in me?"

"I've lied to landlords and loan officers. I think I can manage."

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

They walked in hand in hand.

The boardroom was filled with sharp suits and sharper eyes. Benjamin's presence commanded instant silence. He introduced Isabella with a single line:

"This is my wife, Isabella Mateo."

Murmurs spread across the table like rabbit on water. A few board members raised eyebrows. One, a woman in a red power suit, leaned forward.

"Congratulations," she said. "You've kept your personal life very... private, Benjamin."

"Exactly how I like it," he replied smoothly.

Isabella kept her smile trained and her fingers gently intertwined with his beneath the table. Every part of her felt like it was on fire, but she stayed composed.

Benjamin's hand squeezed hers, once. A warning? A reassurance? She couldn't tell.

After an hour of meetings, charts, and finance talk that went over her head, it was done.

As they walked out of the building, Benjamin led her to the car and slid into the backseat beside her.

"You played your part well," he said.

She let out a breath. "So I passed the test?"

"For today." His voice lowered. "Now comes the hard part."

"What's that?"

"Keeping your story straight... when the world starts asking questions."

______

Later that evening, Isabella sat in the penthouse, watching a breaking news report:

> "C&S Group CEO Benjamin Mateo shocks Miami society with surprise marriage to unknown secretary. Sources report the couple wed in a private courthouse ceremony..."

Her phone vibrated nonstop with texts from numbers she didn't know. Her social media was exploding. Everyone wanted to know who the mystery girl was.

And then her mother called.

Isabella hesitated, then answered.

"Isa! Is it true? You're married?! I saw it on the news!"

"Yes... it's true, mamá," she said quietly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It happened fast. I didn't plan it."

"Well, is he kind to you? Does he treat you well?"

Isabella paused, eyes drifting to the closed door of Benjamin's room.

"He's... complicated."

"Be careful, Isa," her mother said softly. "Even love wrapped in diamonds can feel like a cage."

Isabella ended the call, heart heavy. She looked down at her hand the ring sparkled with cold perfection.

______

That night, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, when the door to her room opened without warning.

Benjamin stood there, shirtless, jaw clenched.

"What are you doing?" she asked, sitting up.

He didn't speak. Just walked in and sat on the edge of her bed.

His voice was low. "Tomorrow, we attend our first charity gala together. Cameras. Press. Old money."

"I can handle it."

"I'm not worried about you smiling. I'm worried about you sliding."

"I won't."

He looked at her then, really looked eyes wondering with something unspoken.

And then, without warning, he leaned down, his mouth close enough to kiss her.

"Let's test that."

Before she could react, his lips brushed hers soft, slow, dangerous. And just as she started to respond...

He pulled away, whispering:

"Tomorrow, you'll need to look like you love me. So let's see how good you are at faking it."