The next morning, the illusion shattered.
Elena was halfway through her second cup of coffee in the penthouse lounge when Ava burst in with her phone in hand, her usually calm demeanor visibly shaken.
"You need to see this," Ava said, thrusting the screen toward her.
It was a gossip blog—one of the high-profile ones that prided itself on exposing the dirty secrets of the elite. And there, front and center, was a blurry photo of Damien and Elena on the Whitmore Gala terrace.
The headline screamed:
"Who is Damien Cross's Mystery Woman? Insider Sources Hint at a Fake Engagement!"
Below it:
"Sources claim Elena Carter has no corporate background, no known connections, and a brother with a criminal record. Is this a carefully crafted PR stunt or the real deal?"
Elena's blood ran cold. "Criminal record? Liam's arrest was dropped—he never even—"
"They don't care," Ava said, voice low. "Truth doesn't matter when scandal sells."
Footsteps thundered behind them.
Damien entered, his face a storm cloud.
"Who leaked this?" he snapped.
"We don't know yet," Ava said quickly. "But it's spreading fast. Several outlets have picked it up already. And... Clarissa's been commenting."
Elena looked up, confused. "What?"
Ava handed Damien another phone, and he scrolled through it grimly. Then he showed it to Elena.
On Clarissa's official page, she'd written:
"When powerful men play house with girls from the gutter, things always end in flames. Just ask his last mistake."
Elena felt the sting in her chest like a slap.
"She's trying to provoke you," Damien said tightly. "To force you out."
"And what are you going to do?" Elena asked. "Pretend it didn't happen? Or throw me under the bus?"
Damien's eyes snapped to hers. "You think I'd let them come after you and do nothing?"
"I don't know," she said honestly. "You barely know me."
He didn't respond right away. But his jaw tensed, and something about the air between them shifted.
"You're mine right now," Damien said. "And no one touches what's mine."
---
An hour later, Elena stood beside Damien at a hastily arranged press conference in the Cross & Vale executive boardroom. Cameras lined the back wall. PR agents moved like sharks behind the scenes.
Damien looked sharp in his tailored charcoal suit, not a hair out of place. Elena wore a modest but elegant ivory blouse and a navy skirt that screamed "respectable fiancée" rather than "gold-digging scandal."
When the press began asking questions, Damien fielded the first round effortlessly.
"Mr. Cross, care to comment on the rumors that your engagement is a publicity stunt?"
"No," he replied calmly. "But I will say this: Elena Carter is not a stunt. She's the woman I'm going to marry, and I don't care if the world approves."
A ripple of shock and satisfaction moved through the room.
Another reporter asked, "Miss Carter, how do you respond to the rumors about your brother's legal trouble?"
Elena took a breath. Her heart thundered.
"My brother is the best person I know. He was wrongly accused, and the charges were dropped. The only thing he's guilty of is being poor in a world that punishes it."
A few cameras snapped faster.
Elena added, "And I didn't fall in love with Damien's money. I fell in love with the man who sees me for who I am—not what I came from."
She felt Damien glance sideways at her—but she didn't look at him. The words tasted strange in her mouth, half-true and half-fabricated.
But they worked.
---
Later that evening, back at the penthouse, Damien poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to Elena.
"To surviving the sharks," he said.
She clinked his glass. "Barely."
He watched her over the rim as he sipped. "That speech... You were incredible."
"I learned from the best liar I know."
His smirk faded into something quieter.
"You didn't have to defend me," she added.
"You didn't have to lie so beautifully," he replied.
Their eyes locked again.
Something was happening—something neither of them had planned. The lines between fake and real, between act and instinct, were beginning to blur.
And if Elena wasn't careful... she might start to believe the lie herself.