CHAPTER 5: THE WORLD WATCHING

ALORA DANIELS

The dress fit perfectly.

Of course it did. Everything in Damian Vaughn's world was tailored, measured, and chosen with intention. From the embroidered velvet that kissed my skin to the earrings that must've cost more than my entire college tuition, every detail screamed control.

And none of it felt like me.

I stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring at a version of myself that looked like a stranger. Elegant. Composed. Chilled.

But underneath the silk and diamonds, I was still the girl trying to remember how she ended up here.

Married. To a man I barely knew. In a house that didn't breathe.

"Are you ready, madam?" one of the assistants asked softly. She had been sent by the estate manager to help me dress for the evening.

I nodded once. Not because I was ready — but because I knew refusal wasn't an option.

Tonight's event was a charity gala hosted by Damian's company. Every camera in the city would be watching. And so would every pair of judgmental eyes that had ever whispered about the mysterious marriage of the Vaughn heir.

We would be expected to smile. To hold hands. To pretend.

---

The car ride was silent.

Damian didn't look at me, not once. He scrolled through his phone, fingers moving with practiced indifference. He was dressed in a black tailored suit that made him look like sin carved into flesh. Dangerous. Distant.

I stared out the window, watching the city blur by. The lights, the people, the noise — all of it felt like a reminder of the world I no longer belonged to.

When we arrived at the venue, cameras flashed instantly. Reporters buzzed behind velvet ropes. Security closed around us like shadows.

And then — his hand found mine.

Firm. Cold. Possessive.

It took everything in me not to flinch.

We stepped onto the red carpet, and the roar of voices surged.

"Mr. Vaughn! Over here!" "Is that your wife, sir?" "Mrs. Vaughn, how do you feel about the sudden marriage?"

I kept my face blank. The media could feed on rumors; I wouldn't give them truth.

Damian leaned in slightly, just enough for a camera-ready whisper. "Smile, Alora. You're supposed to be in love with me."

So I did.

I smiled like my future depended on it.

---

The ballroom was vast and blinding. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead. Waiters glided between silk gowns and sharp tuxedos. Every conversation hummed with practiced elegance.

"Alora, this way," Damian murmured, guiding me toward a group of executives and political elites.

I recognized none of them, but they all knew him. Of course they did. He was the man who ran Vaughn International like a kingdom.

They shook his hand. They nodded at me. Some stared a beat too long, like they couldn't believe the mystery bride was real.

"Your wife is stunning," one older man said, looking at me like a collector eyeing a rare painting.

Damian's smile was polite but firm. "She's more than stunning."

It was a calculated response, but somehow… it felt like a shield.

---

Hours passed in a blur of formalities. Toasts. Introductions. Shallow smiles.

I escaped to the garden when I couldn't take another second.

Outside, the air was cool. Quiet. Real.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Until footsteps crunched behind me.

"You disappear too easily," Damian said.

I didn't turn. "You looked fine without me."

He came to stand beside me. "That's not the point."

Silence settled between us.

I stared at the stars. "Why did you really marry me?"

He didn't answer right away. Just exhaled slowly.

"There are things you don't know yet. Things I can't say here."

"That's not comforting."

"I didn't marry you to comfort you, Alora."

I looked at him then. Really looked.

He wasn't just cold. He was wounded. Hardened by something he wouldn't name.

But so was I.

"Then why?" I pressed. "Why drag me into your world?"

His jaw tightened. "Because once, you said no to me. And I never forgot that."

I blinked. "You're punishing me?"

"No." He met my gaze. "I'm giving you power. You just don't see it yet."

Before I could respond, a staff member appeared behind us. "Mr. Vaughn, the Governor is requesting your presence."

Damian's face returned to its mask. "Go back in. I'll find you soon."

And just like that, he walked away.

Leaving me with more questions than I started with.

---

The night dragged until the final speech was made. Damian returned to my side only when it was time to leave — his hand slipping into mine once more, perfect for the cameras.

But behind closed doors, we said nothing.

No goodnights. No small talk.

He disappeared into his wing of the mansion.

And I returned to mine.

Still alone.

Still burning.