The Public Kiss

"In their world, affection was never love—it was strategy."

The engagement dinner was held at the Grand Solara Hotel—a glass and gold monument to power in the heart of the city. The guest list read like a Forbes feature: CEOs, ambassadors, media moguls, and the occasional polished influencer desperate for relevance.

Dominic and Lyra arrived in coordinated black—his tailored to cut sharper than knives, hers designed to melt cameras.

The flashbulbs ignited the moment they stepped out of the car.

"Mr. Velasco! Over here!"

"Miss Navarro, is it true you met during a private retreat in the Alps?"

"Was this love at first sight?"

Lyra smiled for the cameras. A smile that looked soft—but underneath, was all blade.

Dominic held out his hand.

She took it.

Inside the ballroom, under a ceiling of crystal chandeliers and champagne-colored lights, Dominic guided her through the crowd like a general navigating allies and landmines.

Every conversation was a test.

Every look, a trap.

The Chairman of OroBank eyed Lyra with interest. "She's stunning, Dominic. And smart, too. A rare find."

Lyra let out a soft, practiced laugh. "He didn't choose me for my looks, Chairman. I passed the due diligence."

Laughter all around. Impressed nods.

Dominic didn't smile—but he didn't correct her either.

Progress.

An hour in, the emcee took the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she announced. "We now invite our esteemed couple to share a few words—and perhaps… a kiss for the cameras?"

The crowd roared with approval.

Lyra glanced sideways.

Dominic didn't hesitate.

He stepped forward, tugging her gently into place. His fingers slid along her waist—light, practiced, not intimate but steady. His hand rose to her cheek.

"This is for optics," he whispered.

Her lips curved. "Of course. Everything is."

And then he kissed her.

It was meant to be quick.

A press of lips. Nothing more.

But somewhere in the contact—between the flash of cameras and the heat of his touch—something shifted.

Lyra felt it.

A flicker of heat beneath all that practiced cold.

Dominic pulled back first. Composed. Silent.

Lyra looked out over the crowd and smiled.

But her heart… wasn't smiling.

It was pounding.

And she hated that.

Later, as guests began to leave and the champagne dulled their edges, Lyra stood alone at the balcony, overlooking the glittering city.

Dominic appeared beside her, his presence cool as night air.

"You didn't flinch," he said.

She turned to him. "Was I supposed to?"

"Most people don't handle pressure like you."

"I'm not most people."

A pause.

"Who are you, really?" he asked.

Lyra met his gaze.

Too soon, Dominic.

Far too soon.

But aloud, she only said, "The woman you married."

He had kissed her to sell a lie. But she… had felt the spark of a truth she wasn't ready for.