Chapter 6 - Kiss Me Like You Mean It

Evelyn's heart hammered in her chest.

"You're joking."

Damian's expression didn't flicker. His dark eyes—calm, sharp, impossibly steady—pinned her to the spot.

"You think I'd joke about this?" he said.

"You want me to kiss you? In front of cameras?"

"Yes." His voice was like silk over steel. "A believable, public display. Enough to shut down the rumors."

Evelyn laughed, but it came out too high-pitched. "That's… insane. I'm not ready for—"

"You signed the contract. This is part of the role. Or did you think being my fiancée meant nothing more than wearing a ring?"

Her cheeks flamed. "You never mentioned this."

Damian stepped closer, and she swore the air between them tightened.

"I don't enjoy being doubted. Especially not by the media. And I won't have them painting you as a charity case or a placeholder."

"You don't care what they think of me," Evelyn shot back, trying to ignore how close he was now.

"You're wrong." His voice lowered slightly, sending a shiver down her spine. "If they doubt you, they doubt me. And I don't tolerate doubt."

By the time the black Bentley pulled up outside the Lu Corporation building, Evelyn felt like her lungs were too small for her body.

A small army of reporters swarmed the entrance. Cameras flashed like lightning in a summer storm, their shouted questions muffled by the car's thick glass.

"Ready?" Damian asked, his tone maddeningly calm.

"No," Evelyn admitted.

"Too late."

The door opened, and Damian stepped out first, tall and commanding in his charcoal suit. Evelyn followed, gripping her clutch so tightly her knuckles ached.

The cameras exploded.

"Mr. Lu! Is it true you and Miss Liang are engaged?"

"Miss Liang, how does it feel to marry into one of the most powerful families in the city?"

Damian's hand slid to the small of her back. The subtle pressure made her stiffen, but she forced her lips into a practiced smile.

He leaned down slightly, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

"Smile like you love me."

Evelyn's pulse skittered wildly. "You're asking the impossible."

"Then fake it. You're good at that."

Her eyes shot up to his, ready to fire back, but froze.

Because Damian wasn't smirking. He wasn't teasing.

He looked… different. Intense.

Then it happened.

His hand cupped her cheek gently—too gently for a man with his reputation—and before she could react, his lips brushed hers.

Soft at first. Testing.

But when the flashes doubled and reporters shouted louder, Damian deepened the kiss. His other arm slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

Evelyn gasped against his mouth.

And that was his chance. His lips moved with devastating precision, coaxing, demanding, until her mind went blank.

She could feel his heartbeat through his chest. Or was it hers?

The world melted away—cameras, questions, all of it—until there was only Damian's warmth, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his fingers lingered at the nape of her neck like he didn't want to let go.

When he finally pulled back, Evelyn's legs felt like jelly.

The crowd erupted in cheers and fresh questions.

"Mr. Lu, when's the wedding?"

"Miss Liang, how long have you two been together?"

Damian ignored them all. His arm stayed firm around her waist as he guided her inside.

The moment the elevator doors closed behind them, Evelyn yanked herself free.

"What the hell was that?" she hissed.

"You played your part perfectly," Damian said, adjusting his cufflinks like nothing had happened.

"That wasn't acting!" Her voice cracked slightly. "You… you kissed me like—"

"Like it needed to look real," he cut in smoothly.

Her cheeks burned. "You didn't have to—"

"Yes, I did." His eyes finally met hers, and there was something dark in them now. "Do you think a peck on the cheek would've convinced them?"

Evelyn's breath hitched.

"You're insufferable," she muttered, spinning away.

"Maybe. But they won't be doubting us anymore."

The elevator doors opened. Evelyn stormed out first, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Damian followed at a measured pace, his expression as unreadable as ever.

But if she'd turned back, she might have seen the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

Cliffhanger:

That night, alone in her room, Evelyn touched her lips and cursed softly. She could still feel him there—warm, sure, and terrifyingly addictive.