Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

ZAYN

T he moment I stepped into the studio, I knew today would be a challenge. Not because of the camera flashes or the endless poses, but because of her—Marigold, standing across the room, radiating a kind of beauty that made it difficult to remember that this was all for show.

She was dressed in an off-white gown that shimmered under the studio lights, the fabric hugging her curves in a way that was both tasteful and undeniably sexy. Her hair was styled in soft waves that cascaded down her back. Her makeup was flawless, with just enough edge to make her look like she belonged on the cover of a magazine.

I was wearing a bespoke black suit tailored to perfection. The fabric felt smooth against my skin, the fit just right—sharp, clean, powerful. But all of that paled in comparison to her. When she looked at me with those striking eyes, it was like nothing else existed.

She smiled and made her way to me. "You look nice," she said.

"You look stunning," I replied.

She smiled, looking down at herself. "I was a little worried this might be too much."

"It's perfect," I said, meaning it. She was jaw-droppingly gorgeous.

"Zayn, Marigold, are you two ready to sparkle?" the photographer, a seasoned professional named Evelyn, called out, her voice full of cheerful energy. "Let's get started!"

We moved onto the set. The backdrop was a rich burgundy, providing a dramatic contrast against our attire.

"Alright, you two," the photographer said, adjusting her camera. "I want these photos to scream love. Remember, you're engaged, not trying to sell perfume or blue jeans."

Marigold looked up at me with a wistful smile. "Ready to play pretend?" she whispered the question to keep the photographer from overhearing.

"I'm ready."

Evelyn quickly took charge, directing us into various poses. At first, it was simple—a hand on her waist, a soft smile, a gaze that suggested affection. But as the shoot progressed, the poses became more intimate. Evelyn knew exactly how to position us, how to coax out the chemistry we'd been pretending to have.

"Perfect," she said, adjusting Marigold's arm around my shoulder. "Now, Zayn, lean in just a bit… there. And, Marigold, look up at him. Yes, just like that."

I felt her breath hitch as our faces came within inches of each other. Her gaze locked with mine, and for a moment, I forgot we weren't alone. The heat between us was palpable. My brain immediately went to sex.

The world outside that tiny frame of the camera lens seemed to blur and fade.

My cock twitched, demanding to be inside her. I silently counted to three. It would not look good to have my erection front and center in our engagement photos. I had to remind myself we weren't making porn.

"You two look incredible together," Evelyn remarked, snapping another photo. "I swear, some of these shots are going to be too hot for the magazines. We'll keep those just for you."

Evelyn's comment sent a jolt of surprise through me. I turned slightly, hoping to hide any evidence of my arousal. I glanced toward Marigold, seeing she was as taken aback as I was. She blushed under the praise.

"Alright," Evelyn chirped, clearly loving the energy in the room. "Let's move onto some sitting shots."

There was a chaise lounge set up in front of the backdrop, upholstered in a plush material that matched the crimson color scheme. Marigold moved to sit down first, arranging herself artfully along its length. I stood behind her, awaiting instructions.

"Evelyn, where should I go?" I asked, gesturing to the chaise lounge.

"Zayn, why don't you sit at the end here?" Evelyn directed, patting the portion of the chaise lounge closest to her. "And drape one of your arms casually around Marigold."

Marigold looked up at me as I moved into position. As I sat down and draped my arm around her, our bodies naturally moved closer together. There was no way to ignore the warmth radiating from her or the scent of her perfume that wafted up to my nostrils.

"Let's turn up the heat a little more," Evelyn said. "Zayn, pull her closer. Marigold, let's have you tilt your head up like you're about to kiss him."

I didn't think Evelyn understood just what she was dealing with. Any more heat in this room and we would spontaneously combust. She was at risk of being burned.

I followed Evelyn's instructions, pulling Marigold against me, our bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. She tilted her head up, her lips just a breath away from mine. The moment hung in the air, thick with anticipation.

"Hold that… perfect," Evelyn murmured, her camera clicking away. "And now, Zayn… go ahead and kiss her."

I didn't need to be told twice. Our lips met, the kiss starting slow, hesitant, but quickly deepening into something much more. My hand slid down her back, pulling her even closer, while her fingers threaded through my hair, tugging just enough to make me lose myself in the moment.

The world outside ceased to exist. There was only her—her taste, her scent, the feel of her body pressed against mine. We kissed as if no one was watching, as if there weren't a camera capturing every second.

Her hands roamed over my chest, and I felt the tie around my neck loosen. My own hand wandered up to her shoulder, brushing the strap of her dress until it slipped down, exposing more of her smooth skin. The sound of our breathing filled the room, the heat between us almost unbearable.

"Uh, guys…" Evelyn's voice broke through the haze, pulling us back to reality. "You might want to, uh, save some of that for later."

I pulled back, my breathing ragged as I looked at Marigold. Her lipstick was smudged, her hair a mess from where my hands had been. The strap of her gown hung loosely off her shoulder. Her chest rose and fell with the same labored breaths I was taking.

"Damn," I muttered, clearing my throat. "You're too sexy to be around, Marigold. A walking erection hazard." I leaned in close, my voice low in her ear.

She giggled, a blush creeping up her cheeks. The sound made something tighten in my chest. For a moment, I wondered if it was really all an act—this chemistry, this connection. But then I shook the thought away. It had to be, because anything else was too dangerous to consider.

Evelyn, ever the professional, seized the moment. "That's the energy I want to capture! Perfect, you two. Just a few more like that. But please keep the clothes on."

We managed to keep it together for the rest of the shoot, though the tension between us was almost unbearable. Every touch, every glance felt like a spark waiting to ignite. By the time Evelyn called it a wrap, I was ready to explode.

"You guys were amazing," Evelyn said, reviewing the photos on her camera. "These are going to turn out fantastic. But now, it's time for the hard part—choosing your favorite."

We walked over to where Evelyn had set up a large screen, displaying the best shots from the session. As the images flashed by, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride. We looked incredible together—every pose, every glance, every touch looked genuine. No one would ever doubt we were madly in love.

"This one," Marigold said, pointing to a photo where we were in the middle of the kiss that had almost gone too far. My hand was on her cheek, her fingers tangled in my hair, her lips slightly parted. It was raw, intimate, and undeniably sexy.

"Good choice," Evelyn agreed, nodding in approval. "I'll send you a digital copy right now."

As we waited for the file to be sent, I glanced at Marigold. She was still slightly flushed, her eyes bright with excitement—or maybe something else. When my phone buzzed with the notification, I quickly pulled up the photo and handed it to her.

"Ready to make it official?" I asked, a teasing smile tugging at my lips.

She nodded, her fingers hovering over the screen as she typed out a caption. I did the same, and with a final look at each other, we hit the post button at the same time. There it was—the engagement announcement for the world to see.

"There's no going back now," I said, sliding my phone into my pocket. The comments and likes were already flooding in, the notifications a blur of names and emojis.

Marigold looked at her phone, her smile slowly fading as she scrolled through the responses. Her posture stiffened, her fingers trembling slightly as she read the endless stream of comments. I could see the shift in her energy, the nervousness creeping in.

I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "Hey," I whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. "It's okay. This is what we wanted, remember? It's working."

She nodded, but I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. "Yeah… it's just… a lot."

"I know," I said, holding her tighter. "But soon this will all be over, and you can go back to your normal life."

She looked up at me, something unreadable in her expression. "And you can go back to yours," she echoed softly.

The words hit me harder than I expected. For a moment, I couldn't respond. The thought of going back to my life—without her—felt wrong. But I pushed the feeling aside, reminding myself that this was all temporary. It was what I had signed up for.

"Yeah," I finally said, forcing a smile. "And we'll both be better off for it."

She didn't say anything, just leaned her head against my shoulder. We stood there in silence, the weight of the moment pressing down on us. The engagement was official now, the world believed in our love story, and there was no turning back.

But as I held her in my arms, a small part of me wondered if I was making the biggest mistake of my life. Because if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that walking away from her when this was all over wouldn't be as easy as I'd thought.

"I should go," Marigold said.

The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. It was an icy chill that washed over both of us.

"Right," I said with a nod.

"I need to get out of this dress. And wash my face." She ran a hand over her hair. "I guess I'll see you later."

"Yeah," I replied, watching as she turned to leave. But just before she slipped out of the room, she looked back at me, her eyes communicating an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. Was it regret? Sadness? Or was it fear? Our gaze held for a fraction too long before she finally disappeared behind the door.

I was left standing there, staring at the now closed door, the silence in the room deafening. The weight of loneliness was heavy in my chest, making it hard to breathe. Something inside me urged me to go after her, to hold her close and reassure her that everything would be alright. But I couldn't because I knew in my heart, things were far from alright.

I lingered there for a moment longer. Slowly, I picked up my phone and glanced at the photo again. The picture spoke a million words. Evelyn was good.

It made my stomach churn with an unpleasant blend of guilt and longing. Glancing once more at our tangled selves, I made the decision to mute the notifications and put my phone away.

"Thank you, Evelyn."

"I'll send you a file with more pictures after I've done some editing," she said.

"Thanks."

I walked out of the studio, half-hoping I would see Marigold, but she was long gone. I headed to my penthouse. Once there, I changed out of the suit and flopped down onto the plush sectional in my living room, letting out a sigh.

The penthouse, a symbol of my success, suddenly felt too opulent, too empty. Everything around me was a stark reminder of the life I had built for myself—a life that didn't include Marigold.

I poured myself a glass of scotch and sank back into the couch, allowing the bitter liquid to burn down my throat as I thought about her.

What would it be like to have a woman waiting at home for me? Someone to spend my evenings with.

Not just any woman. Marigold.