Chapter Three: The Gala

Aria’s POV

The night felt endless. I had called Lucian countless of times, my fingers trembling as I dialed again and again, time after time but each call went straight to voicemail. Celeste refused to answer too. I barely slept, my mind was caught in an endless loop filled with unanswered questions and unbearable betrayal. Was it all just a lie? Were they playing a prank on me? Maybe they were I mean, its all been a facade all this while. Celesta and I had formed a pact that she would pretend to be his girlfriend. And that bought me time and space away from the medias scorn and my step fathers fury. But why would they do that without giving me a heads up? Maybe it was just a mere solution. Had he truly discarded me like I was nothing?

Tears blurred my vision as I clutched my phone, my breath coming out in uneven gasps. I prayed—desperately, and foolishly while hoping that this was some kind of mistake. That maybe he’d call, or Celeste would pick up and tell me it wasn’t real. But deep down, I knew the truth.

And the truth hurt more than anything I had ever known.

The morning light streamed through my window, but  it provided me with no comfort. My phone buzzed with notifications—articles, headlines, whispers of Lucian’s engagement spreading like wildfire. My name was there too, tangled in the scandal, my reputation had been reduced to nothing more than a scandal.

Then, I saw it.

A high-profile gala.

Lucian would be there.

The whole city would be watching, cameras flashing, reporters circling like vultures. If I went, I’d be throwing myself into the fire, but I didn’t care. I needed answers. I needed to see him, to make him face me. Let him look me in the eye and tell me it was over.

I made up my mind. I was going.

The moment I stepped onto the red carpet, the world erupted.

“Aria! Aria Sinclair!” Reporters shoved microphones toward me, camera flashes blinding as voices layered over one another. “Did Lucian leave you for Celeste? Were you ever serious? How does it feel to be replaced by your best friend?”

I ignored them, with my head held high, and my heart pounding. I was here for one reason, and one reason only.

But just as I reached the entrance, two guards stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

“You’re not on the guest list,” one said, his voice firm.

My stomach twisted. Of course, I wasn’t. Lucian must have made sure of that.

“I just need to speak with—”

“You’ll have to leave, Miss Sinclair.”

I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms. This couldn’t be happening. I had come too far, endured too much humiliation, to be shut out like this.

Then, a warm hand wrapped around my wrist.

“She’s with me.”

The deep,  voice sent shiver running down to my spine. I turned to see Damien Laurent standing beside me, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

Damien Laurent. The notorious billionaire with a sharper tongue than his custom-tailored suits. We had crossed paths before—once at a charity auction, where I had challenged him just for the fun of it. He was ruthless, arrogant, and, right now, my unexpected savior.

The guards hesitated but stepped aside without protest. Damien led me inside, his grip firm yet effortless.

“Interesting choice of an entrance,” he mused, his dark eyes glinting with amusement as he released me.

“I wasn’t given much of a choice,” I muttered, scanning the room. And then, I saw them.

Lucian and Celeste.

They stood at the center of the ballroom, effortlessly perfect. Celeste was wrapped around his arm, her eyes flickering with triumph as she leaned in and—

Kissed him.

My stomach clenched, my breath hitching in my throat. Every muscle in my body tensed, the betrayal cutting deeper than I could have ever imagined.

I moved forward on impulse, but before I could take another step, Damien curled his around my wrist.

“Don’t.”

I whipped around to glare at him. “Let go.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he smirked, as if he found my misery amusing. “Running straight into a problem, are we now? How predictable.”

I yanked my arm free, anger rising in my chest. “Why do you even care?”

He tilted his head, considering me. Then, as if on cue, a new wave of reporters approached, cameras flashing, microphones raised.

“Mr. Laurent, any updates on your search for a wife?” a reporter asked, her voice sharp with curiosity. “We all know your inheritance is at stake.”

Damien sighed dramatically, swirling the drink in his hand. “Still looking, I’m afraid,” he said, his voice dripping with boredom.

And then, it clicked.

Damien Laurent needed a fiancée to secure his inheritance. I needed a way back into high society—to reclaim my name, my power, my dignity.

He caught my gaze just as the idea formed in my mind.

The idea had formed in my mind so quickly, so recklessly, that I hadn’t even stopped to consider what it meant. Aligning myself with Damien Laurent was dangerous. He wasn’t known for kindness or mercy. He was ruthless—just like Victor. Just like Lucian in his own way.

But what other choice did I have?

I could feel Lucian’s eyes on me from across the ballroom. Celeste’s laugh rang out like a blade cutting through my ribs. My stomach twisted. I wouldn’t let them win. I couldn’t.

You’re running straight into a problem, are we now? Damien’s voice echoed in my mind. He had said it so easily, like he had already figured me out. Maybe he had.

A part of me screamed not to trust him. I didn’t. But trust wasn’t necessary for this.

So, I lifted my chin, exhaled softly, and said the words that would change everything.

I lifted my chin after the reporters had been chased out by the security. “What if you didn’t have to look for one anymore?”

Damien arched a brow, intrigued. “Oh?”

“A fake engagement,” I said boldly, my voice steady despite the chaos stirring inside me. “A mutually beneficial deal.”

He let out a low chuckle, amused. “And what do I get in return?”

I met his gaze, unwavering. “Me.”

Silence stretched between us for a long moment, the air thick with unspoken challenge.

His lips curled into something almost dangerous. “Tempting.”

I took a slow breath, steadying myself. “I need Lucian to see that I’m not broken. That he didn’t win. And you need a convenient fiancée to earn your inheritance. It’s simple.”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “And if I say yes, what’s stopping me from making this deal very, very real?”

My pulse fluttered. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Then don’t fall for me,” I challenged, my voice cool.

His grin widened, dark amusement dancing in his gaze. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

I swallowed, refusing to let him see how his words affected me. “Is it a deal or not?”

He extended a hand. “Deal.”

I placed my hand in his, ignoring the way my skin tingled at his touch.

This was just business. A means to an end.

At least, that’s what I told myself.