The CEO's Reluctant Bride

The silence that followed their kiss lingered like an unspoken promise—dangerous, thrilling, and entirely too complicated.

Ava pulled back first, heart thundering. "We... shouldn't have done that."

Adrian's gaze darkened, but he stepped back, his mask slipping back into place. "It was a mistake."

Then why did it feel anything but?

---

Hours later, Ava found herself standing in front of an opulent full-length mirror, adjusting the deep emerald gown that hugged her curves. The charity gala invitation, marked with glimmering gold letters, lay discarded on the dresser. Pretend to be the perfect wife. Smile for the cameras. Try not to think about how his lips felt against mine. Easy.

The door creaked open. Adrian stood there, breathtaking in a black tuxedo tailored to perfection. His gaze swept over her, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race.

"You clean up well," she muttered, breaking the tension.

"I could say the same." His voice was rougher than usual, sending an unwelcome shiver down her spine.

In the car, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. She fiddled with her clutch, casting a sideways glance. "So, what's the plan? Smile, wave, pretend we actually like each other?"

His lips quirked. "Exactly."

"And if someone asks how we met?"

"We lie."

"Great. Nothing like bonding over fabricated love stories."

---

The gala venue glittered under chandeliers that sparkled like captured stars. Cameras flashed the moment they stepped onto the red carpet. Adrian's hand found her waist—possessive, grounding.

"Smile," he murmured.

Ava plastered on her best I'm totally fine and not spiraling grin, leaning in just enough to sell the fantasy. Reporters called out questions—most of which blurred into white noise—until one voice cut through.

"Adrian! How does it feel to finally settle down? Word was, you'd never be tamed!"

He smirked, glancing at Ava. "What can I say? She's full of surprises."

Her face burned, but she played along, resting a hand on his chest. "He's not as difficult as people think. Well... sometimes."

Laughter rippled through the crowd, cameras flashing brighter. This is a game. Just a game.

Inside, champagne flowed like water, and the hum of polite conversation filled the air. Ava found herself surrounded by glittering gowns, sharp tuxedos, and people who smiled with their mouths but not their eyes.

"You okay?" Adrian's voice was low, close to her ear.

"Peachy," she replied. "I love mingling with people who'd probably sell their grandmother for a merger."

He chuckled—a deep, genuine sound that caught her off guard.

Before she could reply, a woman approached—tall, statuesque, with raven hair and a dress that screamed money and danger.

"Adrian," she purred. "It's been too long."

"Vanessa," he greeted coolly.

Ava's gut twisted. Ex-girlfriend? Mistress? Someone who could ruin my night?

"And this must be your wife," Vanessa said, eyes raking over Ava. "You're... different than I expected."

"Good different or bad different?" Ava shot back sweetly.

Vanessa's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Time will tell."

Adrian's grip on Ava's waist tightened—a silent warning or a shield, she wasn't sure.

As Vanessa sauntered away, Ava glanced up. "Friend of yours?"

"Not exactly."

Figures.

---

Later, as they swayed on the dance floor—because of course there was a dance floor—Ava found herself too aware of his hand on her back, his warmth seeping through layers of fabric and armor.

"You're better at this than I thought," she said.

"At dancing?"

"At pretending."

His gaze locked with hers, something dangerous flickering there. "Who says I'm pretending?"

Her breath hitched. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Play games."

"I thought that's what this was."

His words hung between them, heavy, confusing. Why did this feel like more?

Before she could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it—and every trace of warmth vanished.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"Adrian—"

"I said it's nothing." His walls slammed back up, leaving her cold.

---

Later, back at the penthouse, Ava kicked off her heels, exhaustion pulling at her. "I don't get you," she muttered. "One minute you're... human, and the next you're ice."

He loosened his tie, not meeting her eyes. "This is complicated."

"No kidding."

"I told you I'd protect you."

"Yeah, well... maybe I don't want protection. Maybe I want the truth."

Silence.

Then, quietly: "Some truths hurt more than lies."

Her heart twisted. "And som

e lies ruin people."

His gaze lifted—vulnerable, raw—for just a moment. "Goodnight, Ava."

And just like that, he was gone.