CHAPTER FIVE: PHOTOSHOT

"Mystery Woman Engaged to Damien Blackwood!"

"Kiss of the Century Billionaire's Surprise Fiancée Steals the Spotlight!"

"Who Is Elena Lennox?"

I stared at the screen in Aria's apartment, half in horror, half in disbelief. The headlines just kept multiplying like cockroaches. My inbox was a graveyard of press requests and chaos. My phone hadn't stopped vibrating for two days. Five missed calls from work. Dozens of texts. Two from my landlord. One from my ex.

And a couple from Damien I refused to open them or go through.

"Girl," Aria said from across the room, pacing barefoot in an oversized shirt and holding a bowl of cereal,in one hand and her phone in the other "you're literally trending."

"Please don't remind me."

"No, like, actually trending. Twitter, TikTok, Instagram your name's all over it. Blackwood's PR team dropped a statement this morning. They're calling you his long-time partner."

My stomach dropped. "Long-time? They gave us a whole relationship history?"

"Apparently, you've been secretly dating for a year. Behind closed doors. Power couple energy."

I dropped the phone onto the couch. "A year? That's so specific it hurts."

"Welcome to the big leagues, baby." She smirked, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

I groaned and rubbed my hands over my face. "I kissed him once. Once. That wasn't even real."

Aria raised a brow as she sat beside me. "You kissed him like you meant it."

I didn't answer that, because she was right.

That kiss… it hadn't left me. I still felt it. Every time I closed my eyes, it slammed back into me like a sucker punch. His mouth, the way he took his time with it slow, deliberate, dangerous. It wasn't just for the cameras.

And we both knew it, just didn't want to talk or acknowledge jt.

"Do you think I'm in over my head?" I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Aria looked at me the way only best friends could, brutally honest and soft at the same time. "You're drowning. But you're too proud to ask for a damn life jacket."

I laughed bitterly.

She rested a hand on my knee. "You haven't married him or anything yet. We still have time to walk away."

I nodded, but it was a lie.

Because I'd seen Damien's face in that ballroom. I'd felt it in his voice when he said my brother's name. If he was bluffing, he deserved an Oscar.

And if he wasn't…

Well. I was already screwed.

Two days passed>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I tried to go back to work like nothing had happened. My boss side-eyed me like I'd grown horns. My coworkers avoided eye contact like I was some sort of royalty they weren't allowed to look in the eyes. Someone left a bouquet of roses on my desk. No note. Just the initials "D.B."

Barf.

My emails were flooded. Everyone wanted a quote, an interview, a damn soundbite. One brand offered me $10,000 just to post a picture of me holding their lipstick. I hadn't even agreed to the fake marriage yet and already I was being pimped out by the internet.

By the time the end of the week rolled around, I had almost convinced myself I could fade back into obscurity and pretend none of it ever happened.

And then Damien fucking Blackwood showed up.

At my job.

Wearing a black suit, sunglasses, and that I-own-the-world energy like it was stitched into his skin.

"Elena," he said as soon as he spotted me. Calm. Composed. That voice like silk on steel. "We need to talk."

I froze. My brain short-circuited for a full three seconds before I bolted out of the building and dragged him behind a pillar in the courtyard.

"Are you insane?" I hissed. "What the actual hell are you doing here?"

"You didn't answer your phone."

"I don't answer my phone and you show up at my freaking job? You didn't think maybe it's because I don't want to talk to you!?"

"Too bad." He stepped closer. His cologne hit me first. Expensive. Dangerous and so Him. "Time's up. You coming?"

I stared at him, the heat climbing up my spine. "You think I'm just going to follow you simply because you showed up ?"

His lips curved. "Worked once."

"You blackmailed me."

"You kissed me."

"That was for the cameras!"

"Sure." The smirk on his mouth told me he didn't believe a word I said.

God, I hated him. I hated how calm he was while my life was unraveling at the seams. I hated that he didn't care about the headlines or the pressure or the fact that I couldn't breathe without someone asking if I was carrying his baby.

"I'm not doing this, Damien," I said, voice hard. "I'm out."

His jaw clenched. His sunglasses came off. That stare locked on me like a laser. "You can't be."

"Well I am."

"You're making a mistake."

"No, I'm fixing one."

He stepped forward. Too close. My back hit the cold marble column behind me, and I hated the way my pulse jumped.

"My offer wasn't a request, Elena."

"Then shove it down your—"

"Elena—"

"No!" My voice cracked. I pushed at his chest, but it was like trying to shove a wall. "You think you can just walk into my life, drop a bomb, and expect me to play along? You don't get to own me."

"That's not what this is."

"Really? Because from where I'm standing, it feels like a leash with diamonds."

His eyes darkened.

"You want me to follow you to a photo shoot? You could've called. Emailed. Texted. But no. You show up like a goddamn mafia boss, acting like I belong to you."

"Maybe if you'd check your messages you'd see that j actually did text you"

And that silence? That heavy, charged silence

That scared me more than any threat.

He leaned in slowly, almost like he was whispering a secret only I could hear. "One year . That was our deal. The contract has already been signed by you. The press is watching. And your brother… is still my leverage."

I froze.

His lips brushed my ear. "You're already mine, Elena. All that's left is the wedding ."