The morning after their uneasy truce was a strange one.Emma woke up to a silence so heavy it felt almost deliberate, the kind that hummed with unspoken tensions. The bed beside her was cold, the expensive sheets perfectly undisturbed. Alexander had been gone for hours, she guessed. Typical. He never slept in when he had meetings to dominate or empires to control.
Emma sat up slowly, running her fingers through her hair. She could still hear his voice from the night before—calm, confident, commanding—as he'd laid out "rules" that felt less like an agreement and more like a battle plan. And now, apparently, she was going to play the role of the devoted wife in front of an audience that would happily feed on her every move.
She checked her phone, and sure enough, there it was:A message from Alexander. Short. Sharp. Final.
Be ready by 6 p.m. Dress appropriately. Black-tie. Tonight is important.
No "good morning." No explanation. Just orders.
Emma let the phone drop into her lap and stared at the ceiling.A black-tie event. In Alexander's world, that meant one thing: rich, powerful people pretending to be friendly while silently measuring who was weaker. And if she was going to be his "wife for show" tonight, she had to play her part flawlessly.
She had no choice.Because the last time she'd failed to anticipate Alexander's moves, she'd ended up cornered into this marriage.
The Call for Reinforcements
By noon, Emma decided she couldn't face this evening without some help. She dialed Mia—her best friend, her confidante, and the only person who could make her laugh when the world felt like it was closing in.
"Mia," she said the moment the call connected, "I need a dress. One that says 'I'm rich enough to ruin your career but sweet enough to smile while I do it.'"
There was a beat of silence, and then Mia's delighted gasp. "Oh my God, you're finally embracing the role! My little reluctant Cinderella is becoming a queen."
"I'm not embracing anything," Emma muttered. "I'm surviving."
"Same thing," Mia said cheerfully. "I'll be over in twenty minutes. And don't argue—I'm bringing options."
Twenty minutes later, Mia swept into the penthouse as though she owned it, her arms full of garment bags. She didn't even flinch at the sheer size of the place, though she did mutter, "This man is either compensating for something or genuinely believes he's royalty."
Emma snorted. "Both."
Dressing the Part
The living room turned into a warzone of fabric, sequins, and high heels. Mia held up a series of gowns, each more dramatic than the last.
"This one says, 'I'm here to make your wife nervous.' This one says, 'Yes, I could buy your company twice over.' And this—" she held up a black silk number with a daring slit— "says, 'I will burn your world down with a single smile.'"
Emma raised an eyebrow. "That last one feels… accurate."
An hour later, Emma stood in front of the mirror, and for the first time in weeks, she didn't recognize herself. The black silk dress clung in all the right places, the slit showing just enough leg to be dangerous. Her hair was swept up in an elegant twist, diamond earrings catching the light. She looked… untouchable.
Mia grinned like a proud stylist at a fashion show. "Perfect. You look like a woman no one would dare cross."
Emma wished she felt that way.
The Pickup
At exactly 5:50 p.m., Alexander arrived. Of course he didn't knock—he had his own key. The sound of the door unlocking made Emma's stomach tighten.
He stepped inside, wearing a tailored black tuxedo that looked as though it had been designed on him, not for him. His eyes swept over her slowly, lingering just long enough to make her feel like prey under a predator's gaze.
"Good," he said simply. "You'll do."
Emma's jaw tightened. "You make me sound like a prop."
His lips curved in a faint, knowing smirk. "That's exactly what you are tonight."
She wanted to throw something at him. Preferably one of Mia's glitter-covered heels. But instead, she slipped her arm into his when he offered it, telling herself that she'd play the part—for now.
The Gala
The event was being held at the Fairmont Grand Ballroom, a space so drenched in gold and crystal it looked like it had been stolen from a royal palace. Cameras flashed outside as their car pulled up, and before Emma could take a steadying breath, Alexander was out of the car, circling to her side.
He held out his hand. She took it, the warmth of his skin startling her even now. The cameras went wild the moment she stepped out. She could already imagine tomorrow's headlines.
Alexander Steele Makes Rare Public Appearance with Stunning Wife.
Inside, the crowd turned as they entered. Emma felt the weight of their stares, some admiring, some calculating. She could already see which women were sizing her up and which men were wondering if she could be swayed away from Alexander.
Alexander leaned down, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Smile, Emma. Not for me—for them. They can smell fear."
She smiled. It wasn't genuine, but it was flawless.
The Game Begins
The first hour was a blur of introductions. Alexander introduced her to CEOs, politicians, and socialites whose names she barely caught. He spoke with the kind of quiet authority that made people listen, while she nodded, smiled, and delivered perfectly timed compliments. If this was a game, she was learning the rules fast.
But then she spotted her.Victoria Langford. The woman Alexander had almost married before their "arrangement." Blonde, beautiful, and currently watching Emma with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
She approached like a cat stalking a bird. "Emma, isn't it? I've heard so much about you."
"All lies, I'm sure," Emma said smoothly, even as her pulse spiked.
Victoria's smile sharpened. "Alexander has such… interesting taste. I never thought he'd settle down so quickly."
Emma tilted her head, meeting her gaze. "Some men just know when they've found exactly what they want."
The flicker in Victoria's expression was subtle, but Emma caught it. One point for her.
An Unexpected Threat
Halfway through the evening, Emma found herself alone for the first time—Alexander had been pulled aside by a business associate. She stepped toward the champagne table, eager for a moment's reprieve.
That's when a man she didn't recognize appeared at her side. Tall, dark-eyed, with a smile that was all charm and no warmth.
"You're even more beautiful in person," he said. "I've heard whispers about you."
Emma frowned. "Whispers?"
"Oh yes," he said, swirling his drink. "About how quickly you and Alexander married. About how no one really knows… why."
Her grip tightened around her glass. "And you are?"
"Let's just say," he leaned closer, "I know things Alexander wouldn't want getting out. Maybe one day, we can… trade information."
Emma didn't have to ask to know this was a threat wrapped in flirtation. She also knew Alexander would hate that this man had approached her.
And suddenly, she wondered—was this what being his wife meant? Being a target for people who wanted to hurt him?
The Performance
When Alexander returned, his eyes flicked immediately to the stranger. "Is he bothering you?"
Emma smiled sweetly. "Not at all. We were just discussing how… loyal you are."
The stranger smirked, raising his glass before walking away.
Alexander's hand settled at the small of her back. "Stay close to me," he said quietly. It wasn't a suggestion.
For the rest of the night, they were inseparable, the perfect couple in the public eye. But beneath the polished smiles and careful touches, something darker pulsed—a shared awareness that this wasn't just a game anymore.
The Ride Home
In the car, neither spoke at first. The city lights flickered past, casting shadows across Alexander's face.
Finally, Emma said, "That man tonight—what does he know?"
Alexander's jaw flexed. "Enough to be annoying. Not enough to be dangerous. Yet."
"Yet?"
He turned to her then, his eyes holding hers. "This is the world you married into, Emma. People will test you. Try to use you. But if you stand with me, you'll be untouchable."
She didn't answer. Because she wasn't sure if he was promising her safety… or warning her what would happen if she didn't stand with him.
By the time they reached the penthouse, Emma knew one thing for certain:Tonight had been a performance. But from now on, she'd need to be more than just a wife for show. She'd need to become a player in the game.
And she was going to win.