Sienna barely made it through the rest of the gala without losing her composure.
Her skin still tingled from where Damien had touched her, from the phantom brush of his lips on her cheek.
It had been an act. A perfectly calculated performance.
So why did it feel so real?
By the time they reached the limousine, she was ready to escape. But the moment the doors shut behind them, trapping her in the dimly lit interior with Damien, the air thickened.
Silence stretched between them.
She kept her gaze fixed on the city lights outside, trying to steady her breath.
But she felt him watching her.
Finally, she exhaled sharply. "That was quite a performance."
Damien didn't respond right away. When he did, his voice was calm—too calm. "It needed to be convincing."
She let out a dry laugh, turning to face him. "Convincing? You nearly kissed me."
His eyes darkened. "Would that have been so terrible?"
Her breath hitched.
The way he was looking at her—like he was daring her to admit something she wasn't ready to—made her pulse quicken.
She scoffed, forcing herself to sound unaffected. "It would've been unnecessary."
Damien leaned back against the seat, his expression unreadable. "The press disagrees."
She frowned. "What?"
Wordlessly, he pulled out his phone and turned the screen toward her.
Her stomach dropped.
Headlines were already flooding the internet:
DAMIEN BLACKWOOD'S NEW LOVE – JUST AN ACT OR SOMETHING MORE?
THE BILLIONAIRE'S STUNNING FIANCÉE STEALS THE SHOW – BUT IS IT REAL?
And then the worst one—
THE KISS THAT ALMOST WAS – BLACKWOOD AND SULLIVAN HEAT UP THE DANCE FLOOR.
Accompanying it was a picture—one that made her stomach twist.
Damien's hand on her waist. Their faces inches apart. The raw, undeniable chemistry between them captured perfectly.
She swallowed hard.
It didn't look staged.
It looked real.
Damien watched her reaction carefully. "This is good for us."
She blinked. "Good?"
His gaze didn't waver. "It strengthens our story. They believe it."
Sienna bit her lip. "Do you believe it?"
For the first time, he hesitated.
Something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable.
Then, as if flipping a switch, his expression smoothed over. "It doesn't matter what I believe."
Liar.
She could see it—the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tapped lightly against his knee.
It mattered.
To both of them.
But instead of pushing, she shook her head with a forced chuckle. "Well, congratulations. You just gave them enough fuel to keep talking for weeks."
Damien smirked. "That was the plan."
Sienna exhaled, leaning her head back against the seat.
This was dangerous.
Whatever this was between them—it was slipping out of control.
She had to remind herself of the rules.
This wasn't real.
And it never would be.
But as the car drove through the darkened streets, with Damien's presence beside her feeling too close, she wondered if she was already in too deep.