Beneath the Masks

The afternoon sun bathed the Lockwood estate in warm golden hues, casting long shadows across the lush gardens and ivy-covered walls. Grace stood on the balcony of her room, gripping the wrought-iron railing as a gentle breeze ruffled her hair. Her eyes were fixed on the distant horizon, where the city skyline shimmered beneath the sun's radiant glow.

Yet, the beauty of the day did nothing to calm the storm raging inside her. Her mind was a chaotic swirl of emotions—resentment, confusion, and an unsettling curiosity about the man she was now bound to by a contract.

Alex Williams.

His name echoed in her thoughts, accompanied by vivid memories of their encounters. He was cold, calculating, and impossibly handsome. But there had been flickers—moments where the mask he wore slipped, revealing something raw and unguarded. She hated how those fleeting glimpses left her breathless and unsettled.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. It was a text from Emma.

**Emma:** *I'm still fuming over your parents. But listen, you're stronger than this. And who knows? Maybe Mr. Brooding Billionaire will surprise you.*

A faint smile tugged at Grace's lips. Emma always had a way of lifting her spirits, even in the darkest of times. But despite her best friend's optimism, Grace wasn't holding her breath for a fairytale ending.

---

Inside the estate's grand study, Alex Williams paced the length of the room, his jaw clenched and his fists balled at his sides. The rich scent of leather and aged wood filled the space, but he barely noticed it. His mind was preoccupied with the chaotic mess his father had dragged him into.

Marriage.

The word tasted bitter on his tongue. He wasn't opposed to the institution itself, but being forced into it as a business arrangement was a different matter entirely. Yet here he was, shackled to a woman he barely knew.

Grace Lockwood.

Her name lingered in his thoughts, accompanied by images of her defiant eyes and stubborn chin. She wasn't what he had expected—a spoiled socialite eager to please. No, Grace had fire in her, a fierce independence that both intrigued and infuriated him.

And that kiss.

He cursed under his breath, frustrated by how often his mind drifted back to that moment. The taste of her lingered on his lips, a dangerous temptation he couldn't afford to indulge in.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Luca, his assistant and confidant, entered with his usual calm demeanor.

"Bad time?" Luca asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Always," Alex muttered.

Luca chuckled and held up a tablet. "I've got the schedule for the next few weeks. Lots of public appearances with Grace. You ready for that?"

Alex exhaled sharply. "Do I have a choice?"

"Not really," Luca admitted. "But look at the bright side—you get to spend time with your new wife."

Alex shot him a glare. "She's not my wife yet."

"Semantics." Luca grinned. "Seriously, though, if you're going to pull this off, you need to start acting like a couple. The media will eat you alive if they sense any cracks."

Alex knew Luca was right. The merger between their families' companies depended on the success of this marriage. But more than that, his pride was on the line. He wouldn't give his father the satisfaction of seeing him fail.

"I'll handle it," Alex said, his voice firm.

"You better," Luca said. "And maybe try smiling once in a while. It wouldn't kill you."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Get out."

Luca laughed as he made his exit, leaving Alex alone with his thoughts.

---

Later that afternoon, Grace was in the garden, her fingers trailing over the vibrant petals of a rose bush. The fragrant scent filled the air, momentarily distracting her from the weight pressing down on her chest.

"Grace," a familiar voice called.

She turned to see Alex approaching, his expression unreadable. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and tailored slacks, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. The sight of him made her heart skip a beat, much to her annoyance.

"What is it?" she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.

"We need to talk," he said.

Grace sighed. "Is this about the wedding?"

"Not exactly." He gestured toward a nearby bench. "Can we sit?"

She hesitated before nodding. They walked to the bench and sat down, the silence stretching between them.

"I've been thinking," Alex began, his voice low. "If we're going to do this, we need to set some ground rules."

Grace arched an eyebrow. "More rules?"

He nodded. "We need to present a united front. Our families, the media, and the business world will be watching us. We can't afford to mess this up."

"So what are you suggesting?" she asked.

"We spend time together," he said, his gaze steady. "Meals, outings, whatever it takes to convince people that this marriage is real."

Grace's pulse quickened. The thought of spending more time with Alex was both exhilarating and terrifying. Their chemistry was undeniable, but it was also volatile.

"And what happens when the contract ends?" she asked, her voice tinged with bitterness.

"We part ways," he said without hesitation. "But until then, we play our roles perfectly."

Grace's chest tightened at his words. She hated how easily he compartmentalized their situation, as if it were nothing more than a business transaction. But she also knew he was right. They had to make this work.

"Fine," she said. "But I have one condition."

"What is it?"

"No lies," she said firmly. "If we're going to do this, we have to be honest with each other."

Alex's jaw tensed, and for a moment, she thought he might refuse. But then he nodded. "Agreed."

The tension between them crackled like a live wire. Grace's heart raced, and she couldn't help but wonder if they were playing with fire.

The breeze rustled through the garden, carrying the heady scent of roses. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Their gazes locked, and the air between them grew thick with unspoken desire.

Without thinking, Alex reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. His touch was gentle, but it sent a jolt of electricity through her.

Grace's breath hitched. She should have pulled away, should have said something to break the spell. But she couldn't. Her body betrayed her, leaning ever so slightly toward him.

"Grace," Alex murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

Her name on his lips was her undoing.

But before either of them could act on the tension simmering between them, a voice called from the house.

"Grace! Alex! Dinner's ready!"

The spell shattered, and Grace jerked back, her face flushing. Alex's expression hardened, the moment slipping through his fingers.

"We should go," he said gruffly.

Grace nodded, her heart still racing. As they walked back to the house, she couldn't help but wonder how long they could keep pretending that their connection was purely for show.

Because if this was just the beginning, she had a sinking feeling that neither of them would escape unscathed.