Chapter 5 Smile for the Cameras

The gown felt too tight.

Or maybe it was the pressure of pretending to be someone else.

Sophie stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing down the silky navy-blue dress Daniel's stylist had picked for her. It hugged her curves a little too well, with an open back and a neckline that made her blush. She didn't usually wear things like this. She didn't usually attend elite tech galas. She didn't usually have a husband.

But tonight, she was Mrs. Carter.

The fake version, anyway.

"Let me guess," she muttered to her reflection. "Don't slouch. Don't speak unless spoken to. And whatever you do, don't get spinach in your teeth."

A knock came at the bedroom door.

"You decent?" Daniel's voice, muffled but close.

"As decent as this dress allows," she called back.

The door creaked open.

Daniel stepped in-and froze.

His eyes swept over her, slowly. Not in the usual, clinical way he looked at quarterly reports or spreadsheets. But with something deeper. Unreadable.

"You look..." He cleared his throat. "Exactly like someone who belongs at my side tonight."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that a compliment, or a legal obligation?"

He actually smirked. "Let's just say the dress works."

Sophie grabbed her clutch, pushing down the heat in her cheeks. "And you clean up well, Mr. Carter."

He did. Black tux. Sharp jaw. That frustratingly smooth expression that made her want to both punch him and kiss him. Not that she would do either. Especially not with clause ten staring her down in all caps.

Don't fall in love.

The limo ride was quiet.

Too quiet.

Sophie stared out the window as they pulled up to the gala venue-an elegant hotel with gold-trimmed entrances and velvet ropes. Flashing cameras waited just beyond the red carpet.

"Remember the script," Daniel said as the car slowed. "Smile. Hold my arm. You're proud, not surprised. You love me-just enough to sell the illusion."

"And if I trip and fall into a reporter?"

"I'll catch you."

She looked at him.

He didn't blink.

A doorman opened the door. Daniel stepped out first, offering her his hand.

Sophie took it.

The flash of cameras was instant, blinding. Shouts echoed from every direction. "Mr. Carter! Who's your wife wearing tonight? Over here! One smile this way!"

Daniel placed his hand on the small of her back. Not too low. Not too high. Just possessive enough to look convincing.

Sophie forced a soft smile, leaning slightly toward him.

It felt... natural. Too natural.

Inside, the ballroom shimmered with chandeliers and polished people. Champagne trays floated past, and the buzz of curated conversations filled the air.

Daniel leaned down. "You're doing fine."

"I'm just pretending this is a movie."

"Let me know when you want intermission."

She laughed under her breath.

That's when she saw her.

Lena.

Tall. Blonde. Draped in silver and smirking like she owned the room. She glided over with a glass of champagne and zero shame.

"Well," Lena purred, eyes flicking between them. "The newlyweds. I must say, you clean up nicely, Sophie."

Sophie smiled sweetly. "It's easy when you're glowing."

Daniel's hand tightened slightly on Sophie's waist, subtle but noticeable. Lena caught it.

"Still the protective type, hmm?" she said, sipping her drink. "Old habits."

Sophie's smile didn't budge. "Don't worry, Lena. I can handle him."

Daniel cut in smoothly. "Excuse us."

He guided Sophie toward the far side of the ballroom, away from the press, the tension, the ex-girlfriend's perfume cloud.

"Thanks," Sophie said quietly.

"For what?"

"For not letting her rattle me."

Daniel's voice lowered. "I said I'd catch you if you fell. That includes emotionally."

She looked up at him.

And for a second, she forgot it was fake.

Forgot clause ten.

Because standing there in the middle of the gala, lights sparkling above, cameras behind them...

He felt a little too real.