"Pardon me, miss. Could I please view your invitation? As the waiter's courteous voice cut through the atmosphere, my heart almost sprang out of my chest.
I froze, holding on to the glass of champagne I had just snatched. I hoped he wouldn't see the little shake in my hand, and my palms were sweaty.
"Oh, um I".....
I attempted a smile as my voice trailed off. My fiancé may have it, in my opinion. He is discussing with Mr. Delacroix over there. In the hopes that the waiter wouldn't ask any more questions, I nodded to a group of men in fitted suits who were gathered close to the bar.
Waiting, the waiter's eyes darted from me to the crowd. I didn't breathe. "Excellent, ma'am. At last, he moved away and murmured, "Enjoy your evening." I felt a wave of relief, but it passed quickly. This isn't where I should be.
This was not my world, with its Chrystal light, glistening dresses, and air that hummed with money and power.
I sipped my champagne, shielding my face with the glass while I looked around the room. I noticed a man with well-groomed gray hair standing by the staircase.
Mr. Delaroix, I had the name on my list. I had been honing a pitch for his rebranding campaign for weeks, and he owned a chain of upscale hotels. This was my opportunity.
I willed my legs to move and brushed down the hem of the dress I borrowed. I saw myself in a gilt mirror as I was about to walk forward. I was frozen by my reflection.
I wanted to be a polished professional, but the girl peering back wasn't. She was a fake, with borrowed heels pinching her toes and a dress she couldn't afford.
"Mia, what are you doing?" I said to myself in a whisper. However, there was no time for hesitation. Tonight, my only objective was to attract Mr. Delacroix's attention and get a client.
If I didn't succeed with this, it was back to ramen food and unpaid debts. Oh gosh! I grumbled.
I walked a step further, mentally practicing my introduction. *Thank you, Mr. Delacroix. Mia Thompson is my name. I work as a graphic designer with a focus on brand identity.
The room changed before I could complete my mental script. The audience echoed with a deep murmur. People whirled, staring at the doorway.
Then I saw 'HIM'. Adrian Cross. You would recognize him even if you didn't know his name.
He radiated a presence that caused others to step aside silently.
Big, tall, and neatly dressed, he entered the hall like he owned it, which he very likely did. I hastily warded off my gaze so as not to attract notice to myself.
I couldn't afford distractions. However, as fate would have it, Adrian Cross was approaching me directly.
--- "Drinking champagne?" His voice was smooth, deep, and surprisingly intimate.
I nearly spilled my drink when I spun around. "Y-yes," I stumbled, wishing I hadn't sounded so nervous. "It's fantastic." His black eyes scanned me like a puzzle he was attempting to unravel as he cocked his head.
"You're not on the guest list?" I felt sick to my stomach.
"What? I forced a laugh that sounded anything but convincing, but of course I am.
A tiny, knowing smirk flickered on his lips as his brow raised. "Really? Because I don't recall inviting anyone unmemorable....
The heat poured into my cheeks. "I believe there's an error somewhere."
"Yes there is." His voice trailed off to a whisper of conspiracy as he took a step closer. However, you're in luck. I'm in a good mood tonight.
Unsure of how to react, I blinked. For a brief time, the sound of the gala settled as his eyes met mine.
Then suddenly he looked out into the crowd. His voice demanded immediate attention as he yelled...
"Ladies and gentlemen." "I want to present to you a very special person." My heartbeat raced.
What was he doing? With a hand on my back, he went on, "This is Mia Thompson." "My fiance.!"
--- There was silence in the room.I lost my train of thought. *Fiancée? What!?*
Adrian's hold on my back strengthened as I opened my mouth to object, a subtle warning.The expression in his eyes stopped me cold when I looked up at him.
It wasn't a request.
"You cunning devil, Adrian!" He was clapped on the shoulder by a man in a sharp blue suit.
And here I believed you would never get married. Congratulations!
Adrian gave a smile that fell short of his eyes. "I'm grateful, Jonathan.
I guess the secret is out now, even though Mia and I tried to keep it a secret. The man chuckled.
"You've never stopped surprising me."
"Yes," Adrian responded with ease.
His face was unreadable when he turned back to face me. "Isn't that correct, sweetheart?" With every nerve in my body urging me to flee, I took a deep breath. But there was no way out with dozens of eyes on us.
"Yes," I muttered, trying to smile. "What a whirlwind it has been." Obviously buying the act, the man laughed once more.
"Well, I'll let you two do it alone. Cross, don't make her wait too long. She seems capable of enchanting the whole space.
As the man left, Adrian nodded and kept his hand on my back.
"Why in the world are you doing this?" When we were alone, I muttered a hiss. Without wasting a beat, he responded, "Saving your ass."
"I didn't ask for your assistance!" He leaned in so that only I could hear him say, "Trust me." "You'll be grateful to me later."
Another group of guests arrived before I could say a word, congratulating us and inquiring about the "engagement."
As I stood there forcing smiles and nodding like a doll, Adrian responded to each question with practiced ease.
The night turned into a dazzling jumble of forced dialogue and snatched glances. Adrian always managed to hold me in place when I tried to move away.
I was tired and angry by the time the gala began to wind down. Needing air, I slipped away to the balcony.
"Mia." Adrian was standing in the doorway with his tie a little slack as I turned around.
He appeared more like a man who had just emerged victorious from a particularly ugly war than a multibillionaire. "What just happened?" I asked surprisingly.
He took a step forward, his face solemn.
"Because I needed a distraction and you were about to get thrown out."
"A distraction? From what? "From this." Adrian took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket before I could respond.
I opened it with a sinking heart as he handed it to me. It was my profile, and it was detailed. My identity, my job, and even the fact that I had three months' worth of unpaid rent.
"How did you—" He added in a chilly tone, "You're not the only one who's good at sneaking into places you don't belong."
My thoughts were racing as I tried to figure out what this meant. But Adrian struck the last blow before I could think clearly.
"Mia, you're going to help me. And in return, I'll make sure no one finds out who you really are. Stunned, I looked at him.
"Help you with what?" With hardly more than a whisper, I asked. His eyes were relentless as he leaned closer. "Assuring everyone that this engagement is real!."