The grand ballroom of the St. James Hotel glowed like a palace carved from crystal and gold. Chandeliers glittered above a sea of Manhattan's elite—socialites in sequins, men in tailored tuxedos, smiles as sharp as secrets.
Emily had never seen anything like it.
Her heels clicked against the marble as Liam led her through the room, his hand resting lightly at her lower back. She wore a sleek, black gown that hugged her curves, her hair pinned in soft waves. She looked every inch the billionaire's wife—and felt none of it.
Everyone stared. Whispers followed.
"Is that the wife?"
"The contract bride?"
"She's pretty, but plain."
"She won't last a month."
Emily smiled tightly, chin high.
Liam leaned in, his voice low. "They're waiting for you to crack."
She didn't look at him. "Then let's disappoint them."
---
A server passed with champagne flutes, and Emily took one just to keep her hand from shaking. The room reeked of wealth, power, and polite warfare. She recognized none of the faces, yet felt all their eyes.
One woman in particular stepped forward. Tall, regal, with icy blue eyes and lips like a blade.
"Mrs. Stone," she said smoothly. "Or shall I say... Miss Carter?"
Emily froze.
The woman offered a tight smile. "I'm Vanessa. Liam and I go way back."
Liam's arm tensed around Emily's waist.
"Lovely to meet you," Emily said calmly. "You must be part of the past he doesn't talk about."
Vanessa's smile faltered, just for a second.
Liam excused them quickly, but Emily caught the sharp look Vanessa shot her as they walked away.
"That's your ex?" Emily asked once they were out of earshot.
"One of many who wanted the last name. Only you have it."
"But not the man?" she asked lightly.
He stopped. "That's not fair."
Emily met his eyes. "Isn't it?"
Before he could answer, a heavyset man in a deep navy suit approached. His presence changed the air—people parted like waves, eyes lowered.
"Mr. Moretti," Liam said coolly. "Didn't expect you tonight."
Moretti smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You've been dodging my calls, Liam."
"I've been busy."
"Playing house?"
Liam's jaw tightened. Emily instinctively stepped closer to him.
Moretti's eyes flicked to her. "So this is the wife. Pretty. Young. Dangerous."
"To who?" Liam asked.
Moretti's smile widened. "That's the question, isn't it?"
He tipped an invisible hat to Emily and walked off.
She turned to Liam. "Who the hell is he?"
"My father's former partner," he said. "And a man who believes I owe him something I don't."
Emily touched his arm. "And me? What do I owe?"
Liam looked at her then, really looked. "Nothing. But being with me means you'll be counted among my debts."
---
Later, they sat on a balcony overlooking the city, far from the music and the murmurs.
"You handled tonight like you were born to it," Liam said.
"I faked every second."
He smiled faintly. "That's what everyone in there is doing."
Emily set her glass down. "You're afraid. Of them. Of Moretti."
"I'm afraid of losing control."
She leaned back, letting the wind tangle her hair. "Tell me the truth. No riddles. What is this war you're in?"
Liam took a long breath. "When my father died, he left me the company—and the enemies that came with it. Moretti expected to inherit part of the business. When I refused, he made it clear he'd come for it another way."
"Through me?"
"Through anything I care about."
Emily was silent.
"I thought marrying you would shield you. But I underestimated how far they'd go."
"And now?"
"I'd burn this whole empire down before I let them touch you."
Her breath caught.
It wasn't romantic. Not in the usual way. But it was raw. Fierce.
Real.
Liam leaned closer. "They see you as a pawn. Let them. While they look at you, they won't see what I'm planning."
Emily's voice trembled. "What are you planning?"
He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "To win. And to keep you safe."
She stared at him.
Then, impulsively, she leaned in and kissed him.
It wasn't soft or shy. It was desperate. Messy. All the fear and tension that had simmered between them finally breaking.
Liam responded instantly, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss like he'd been waiting forever.
When they finally broke apart, his voice was hoarse. "That… was a very dangerous thing to do."
Emily smiled
faintly. "I thought you liked danger."
He rested his forehead against hers. "Not when it has your name."
---
As they left the balcony, hand in hand, Emily felt the eyes still on them—but now, she didn't flinch.
Because for the first time, she wasn't just pretend
ing to be his wife.
She was becoming one.