Chapter 14: Playing with Fire

Chapter 14: Playing with Fire

Elena barely had time to process the shift in Jason's demeanor before the next demand was placed before her.

"We have a charity gala to attend tonight," Jason announced as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. "Get ready."

Elena, seated on the plush sofa in their suite, arched a brow. "You mean we? As in, the perfect married couple charade again?"

Jason smirked, his gaze unwavering. "That is the deal, sweetheart. And tonight, we have to make sure no one questions it."

The thought of another evening spent smiling through clenched teeth, playing the doting wife to Jason Sinclair, made her insides coil. But she knew the stakes. For him, the merger. For her, her mother's legacy. She couldn't afford to let emotions get in the way.

"Fine," she said, pushing to her feet. "But don't expect me to fall at your feet in admiration tonight."

Jason chuckled, the sound low and amused. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The Game Begins

The Ravenshore Grand Ballroom glittered with chandeliers, a sea of high society moving effortlessly through the opulence. Women in designer gowns dripped in diamonds, men in custom-tailored suits exuded power. This wasn't just a gala—it was a battlefield where reputations were solidified and alliances were forged.

Elena stepped onto the red carpet, her midnight-blue satin gown hugging her figure in all the right places, the delicate silver embellishments catching the light. It was classic yet bold, modern but timeless. She had chosen it deliberately—if she was going to play this role, she would own it.

Beside her, Jason was the epitome of controlled dominance. His black tuxedo was sharp, his presence commanding. The cameras flashed as they posed, his arm naturally curling around her waist. To the world, they looked like the perfect power couple.

But Elena knew better.

As they moved through the room, whispers followed. "The new Mrs. Sinclair…" "She's stunning…" "But do you think it's real?"

She ignored them, keeping her smile intact. Jason, however, didn't seem so inclined to let things slide.

Tipping the Scales

Midway through the evening, Elena found herself in conversation with an investor's wife. The woman was warm, engaging, and genuinely interested in Elena's business. For a moment, she felt like herself again, not just Jason Sinclair's wife.

Then Jason appeared.

He greeted the woman with a nod, smoothly inserting himself into the conversation. "I see my wife is charming as always."

Elena tensed as he placed a hand at the small of her back, his fingers pressing lightly against her spine.

The investor's wife excused herself politely, leaving them alone.

Elena turned to Jason with a slow blink. "Did you just chase away my conversation?"

Jason tilted his head, his voice smooth. "You were too far away."

Her pulse skipped. Too far away?

She opened her mouth to respond, but then he leaned in, murmuring just for her, "Smile for the cameras, darling."

A shiver ran through her, but not from discomfort. It was infuriating—his ability to slip so seamlessly between calculated charm and raw dominance.

She turned to face him fully, voice laced with amusement. "Afraid I'll run off, Sinclair?"

His smirk deepened. "No. But I like to keep my assets close."

The words coiled around her, heat creeping up her spine. This was all an act. But Jason played it too well.

A Battle of Control

She refused to let him control the narrative. If Jason wanted to play, she'd play.

When they reached the ballroom floor, Elena deliberately untangled herself from Jason's grip, stepping just out of reach. She turned her attention to another guest—a charming entrepreneur who had been eyeing her all night.

She smiled, letting her hand graze the man's arm as she laughed at something he said. It was a small act of defiance, but she felt Jason's attention snap to her like a live wire.

Within seconds, Jason was beside her again, his presence commanding.

"Excuse us," he said smoothly, placing a hand at Elena's waist as he turned her away from the conversation. "Dance with me."

It wasn't a request.

The Dance

Jason led her onto the dance floor, his grip firm but not forceful. The band played a slow, seductive melody, and as he pulled her close, Elena felt the heat of his body through the thin fabric of her dress.

"You were enjoying yourself tonight," Jason murmured, his voice low, sending a ripple of something unsteady through her.

She tilted her chin defiantly. "Should I not? You're the one who told me to play my part."

Jason's fingers tightened at her waist for the briefest moment before his grip relaxed. "You're playing the part a little too well."

Elena exhaled a quiet laugh, her breath brushing against his collar. "So now there are rules?"

Their movements were slow, deliberate. Anyone watching would see an intimate moment between husband and wife. But beneath the surface, it was a battle for dominance neither wanted to lose.

Jason's hand slid along her spine, his touch deceptively gentle. "You should know," he whispered, "I don't make rules I don't intend to enforce."

The challenge was there, in his eyes, in the way his grip subtly guided her against him.

Elena's heart pounded, her skin prickling with awareness. What was happening?

This was pretend. Wasn't it?

Lines Blurred

The dance slowed. The space between them disappeared.

Jason's fingers ghosted along the side of her face, barely touching, but enough to send her pulse into chaos.

"Elena," he murmured, voice deeper than before.

She swallowed, suddenly breathless. She should step away, should remind him of what this was. But for the first time since they had started this game, she didn't want to.

His thumb brushed against her jaw, his breath warm against her lips. If she moved even an inch closer, they would be—

"Elena, there you are!"

The moment shattered like glass. A guest approached, smiling, oblivious to what they had interrupted. Elena stepped back, sucking in a shaky breath, while Jason's jaw tightened, his expression unreadable.

The fire between them had been doused. For now.

But Elena knew one thing for certain—

This game wasn't over. And neither of them had won yet.