Chapter 7

seven

. . .

Charlie

Heat coils in my belly as I step into the grand ballroom, clinging to Alex's arm. The room glimmers with crystal chandeliers and a hunger that mirrors my own—a hunger I tamp down because this— us —it's not real.

"Relax, Charlie," Alex whispers, his breath warm against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He squeezes my hand, a gesture meant to reassure but it only ignites the fire inside me.

I'm playing a role, I remind myself sternly. Eye candy on the arm of Alexander Bennett, billionaire CEO, at a charity ball—it's all business, even if my body screams otherwise.

His suit hugs his muscular frame, the sight commanding as much attention as the wealth whispering through the air.

"Smile for the cameras," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my temple in a move so possessive, every nerve ending sizzles with awareness. His blue eyes lock onto mine, piercing and intense.

"Always," I manage, my voice doesn't waver, but my heart does—a traitorous thing pounding in my chest.

We glide across the floor, mingling with guests, laughter and light swirling around us. But the pull between us is a current too strong to ignore. With each brush of his fingertips along the small of my back, restraint threads thinner, my professional facade cracking under his touch.

"Enjoying the evening?" he asks, tilting his head to study me.

And that's the thing that's killing me. Alex would totally make an amazing boyfriend. He's always checking on me. He's attentive, gorgeous, possessive.

I can only imagine what he's like in the bedroom?—

Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! I scream at myself. Do not go there!

"Immensely," I lie, the word tasting sour on my tongue. I'm lost in the charade, in him—afraid of how much I want it to be true.

Then, amidst applause for a successful bid, he turns to me, his gaze burning with something forbidden.

Before I can protest, Alex's mouth crashes against mine, and holy fucking moly.

I freeze. His kiss…it's demanding. He's claiming me in front of everyone.

The world fades away, leaving only the sensation of his lips, firm yet hungry against mine. I'm caught in the storm of him, and for a heartbeat, I kiss him back, drowning in the delusion of us.

It's raw, it's public, and it's not part of the plan.

But then reality comes crashing back in, sharp and stinging.

This is all just an act.

Or at least, it's supposed to be.

I shove him back, my chest heaving in a cocktail of rage and desire. "Kissing me? Here? That wasn't part of the deal, Alex."

His blue eyes smolder, undeterred by my fury. "It felt right," he says, voice low, every word laced with that same possessiveness that commands boardrooms.

"Stop it. Just stop." I can't let him see the truth, can't admit how his lips seared against mine kindle something that terrifies me. My heart betrays me, thudding with a yearning that feels too much like love—love that has no place in our fabricated romance.

"Charlie," he starts, taking a step closer, but I'm retreating already, my heels clicking a staccato retreat across the marble floor. The space between us stretches taut, filled with electric tension.

"Alex, don't," I warn, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound stern. I've fallen into a dangerous game, my own emotions the price.

I run from him, from the humiliation burning in my cheeks, from the palpable want coiling tight within me.

I can feel a hundred gazes on me. I'm completely breaking script, but I don't care. No doubt it's going to be all over the news about Alex's "girlfriend" running out on him like a crazed lunatic, but I don't care.

All I care about is gaining back some semblance of self-preservation.

"Charlotte!" Alex calls after me, but I don't stop.

Each step echoes my heartbeat, fast and frenzied, as I escape into the anonymity of the night.

Because if I stay with Alex, my heart is doomed.

And it will utterly crush me when he ends it.