Chapter 4 When Fake Feels Real
Cassandra Vale had always believed in control. Control of her image, her words, her life. Yet control was slipping through her hands like water.
The kiss had unsettled her more than she cared to admit. It replayed in her mind when she tried to sleep, when she stared out the window during car rides, when she sat in silence at her vanity. She told herself it had been for the crowd, for appearances, but her body betrayed her. Her lips still tingled at the memory.
Her friends noticed the change before she did.
At a brunch two days later, a woman draped in pearls leaned close across the table. “Cassandra, I mean this kindly. Damian Cross is beneath you. Men like him burn everything they touch. Do not mistake charm for devotion.”
Another chimed in, her voice full of false sympathy. “Your reputation cannot afford another scandal. You are already walking on glass.”
Cassandra kept her expression serene, but their words lodged deep. She assured them with a practiced smile that everything was under control, that Damian was nothing more than an amusement. Inside, doubt coiled tight.
That evening, Damian arrived at her townhouse, unannounced as usual. He leaned against the doorframe, his leather jacket slung over one shoulder, his grin easy and infuriating.
“You missed me,” he said before she could open her mouth.
Her eyes narrowed. “I did not.”
“Then why did you open the door so quickly?”
She refused to answer. Instead, she turned sharply and walked back into the living room, forcing him to follow. He moved through her space like he belonged there, and that unsettled her more than the kiss had.
“You cannot keep appearing here,” she said. “People will talk.”
“They are already talking,” Damian replied, dropping into her sofa with careless ease. “And from what I have heard, they are saying you look happier than ever.”
“Happier?” Cassandra let out a sharp laugh. “Do you even understand what that word costs in my world? Happiness is weakness. It is vulnerability. People like me survive on strength, not sentiment.”
His eyes softened, and for a moment the smirk fell away. “Maybe that is why you look so tired.”
Her breath caught. She hated that he saw her so clearly, hated that he chipped at her armor with every word.
“You should leave,” she said coldly.
Instead, he stood and stepped closer, his presence filling the room. “Tell me you do not feel anything, Cassandra. Tell me that kiss meant nothing.”
Her throat tightened. The truth clawed at her chest, but she forced out the words anyway. “It meant nothing.”
Damian searched her eyes, and for one terrifying moment she thought he would call her a liar. But instead, he gave a low laugh, bitter and amused at once.
“You are afraid,” he said softly. “Not of me, but of yourself.”
She turned away, unwilling to let him see the truth in her face. “You are arrogant.”
“And you are lying.” His voice was rougher now, closer, as he caught her wrist and pulled her to face him.
Their eyes locked, and the air between them seemed to tremble. Anger, desire, fear, and something unnamed collided all at once. She should have pulled away. She should have ended it. Instead, her breath quickened, her pulse raced, and she found herself leaning into the very danger she had sworn to avoid.
Damian’s hand lingered at her wrist, not harsh, but firm enough to keep her from retreating. His voice dropped lower. “This was supposed to be a game. Tell me, Cassandra. Does it still feel like one?”
Her lips parted, but no sound came. She wanted to say yes, to end this before it unraveled everything she had built. Instead, silence answered for her.
The moment broke when her phone buzzed loudly on the table. She pulled away as though burned, grabbing at the device like it was a lifeline. Damian stepped back, watching her with a shadow in his expression she could not read.
She glanced at the screen. A message from one of her closest allies in society. They are circling. Be careful. Cross is dangerous for you.
Cassandra locked the phone quickly, her chest tightening. Her world was warning her to let him go, to retreat back into safety. Yet when she looked up, Damian was still standing there, eyes fixed on her with a rawness that stripped her bare.
She drew a steadying breath. “This arrangement ends soon. When it does, you will disappear from my life.”
Damian’s mouth curved into a smile that was nothing like his usual grin. It was softer, but also sharper, as though he already knew she did not mean it.
“We will see, sweetheart,” he said.
And with that, he left her standing alone in the quiet room, her pulse still racing, her thoughts in chaos.
Cassandra pressed a hand to her chest, as if she could calm the storm inside. She had always believed she could control her heart. Now, for the first time, she was no longer certain.
