The Contract Bride's Dilemma

Chapter 6: The Public Facade

Elena barely had time to adjust to her new reality before Jason threw her straight into the deep end. Less than twenty-four hours after moving into his penthouse, she found herself seated in the back of his sleek black Rolls-Royce, heading toward an event filled with the city's most powerful elite.

"Would it kill you to give me some warning before throwing me into these situations?" she muttered, adjusting the diamond bracelet Jason's assistant had practically strapped onto her wrist before they left.

Jason didn't bother looking up from his phone. "You're my wife now. This is what's expected."

Elena exhaled sharply. "Right. Because a trophy wife needs to be paraded around like a prized possession."

His lips twitched, but his eyes remained focused on his screen. "See? You're learning."

She scowled, resisting the urge to snatch his phone and toss it out the window. Instead, she turned her gaze toward the glittering skyline as they neared the venue—a five-star hotel known for hosting the wealthiest of the wealthy.

Her stomach knotted. The idea of faking smiles, pretending to be madly in love with him, made her skin crawl.

Jason finally set his phone down and glanced at her. "Try not to look like you're walking into an execution."

Elena shot him a glare. "Easy for you to say. You thrive in this world. I just have to survive it."

His eyes darkened slightly, as if something flickered behind his composed facade, but it was gone before she could place it. "Then follow my lead. And don't forget to smile."

The car slowed to a stop, and before Elena could prepare herself, the door was opened. Camera flashes exploded instantly. Jason stepped out first, adjusting his cufflinks with effortless grace before extending a hand toward her.

Elena hesitated. She hated this. Hated playing pretend for people who thrived on deception. But then she remembered what was at stake—her mother's boutique, her father's shattered legacy. She forced a breath, placed her hand in Jason's, and let him pull her out into the storm of flashing lights.

Thrown to the Wolves

The moment they stepped onto the red carpet leading to the grand ballroom, Elena was enveloped in a world of artificial charm and deadly ambition.

"Jason! Over here!"

Reporters shouted his name, cameras zooming in as if trying to capture any trace of a crack in the perfect marriage.

Jason placed a firm hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the entrance with practiced ease. He leaned down, his breath warm against her ear. "Smile, darling."

Elena clenched her jaw but did as he said, plastering on a serene expression as they walked through the sea of people.

Inside, the ballroom was a masterpiece of extravagance—golden chandeliers, marble floors, waiters in crisp uniforms carrying trays of champagne. High society figures mingled, exchanging carefully measured pleasantries.

Elena felt the scrutiny the second she entered. Women eyed her with a mixture of curiosity and barely concealed jealousy. Men assessed her as if calculating her worth.

Jason, however, seemed unfazed. He moved through the crowd like a king surveying his domain, nodding to influential figures, shaking hands with men who probably controlled entire industries. And Elena, whether she liked it or not, was his queen.

A group of businessmen approached, their attention shifting to her with interest.

"So this is the infamous Mrs. Sinclair," one of them mused, lifting a glass in her direction. "I must say, Jason, you always did have excellent taste."

Elena forced a smile, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. Jason chuckled, his arm tightening around her waist in a way that seemed possessive.

"Careful," he said smoothly. "Flatter my wife too much, and I might get jealous."

The men laughed, but Elena wasn't amused. Jason was playing his role too well, and she hated how natural it felt.

The Kiss That Wasn't Supposed to Happen

Just when Elena thought she had survived the night, she noticed a familiar figure lingering near the media section—Victoria Marcus. Jason's ex-fiancée.

Victoria's presence had already put Elena on edge, but it was the way she watched them, the knowing smirk on her lips, that made Elena's skin crawl.

"Darling," Jason murmured, his grip on her waist tightening subtly, "we have an audience."

Elena followed his gaze and met Victoria's smug stare. It was then she realized what was happening. Victoria was waiting for her to fail. Waiting for the perfect moment to confirm that Elena was just a prop in Jason's world.

Elena squared her shoulders. Not tonight.

Before she could think twice, Jason turned her slightly, positioning them directly in the line of sight of several photographers. Then, without hesitation, he tilted her chin up and pressed his lips to hers.

Elena's mind blanked. The moment stretched unbearably long, every nerve in her body screaming at the unexpected contact. She should have pulled away, should have shoved him for catching her off guard.

But she didn't.

Not because she wanted to kiss him—no, never—but because she knew the cameras were capturing every second. And if she reacted badly, it would unravel everything.

So instead, she let Jason kiss her, let herself melt just enough to make it convincing. His lips were warm, firm, calculated. A performance, just like everything else he did.

When he pulled back, he was already smirking. The room was silent, as if the crowd had collectively held their breath.

Then, applause.

Elena forced a breath, her heart hammering as Jason leaned down, whispering against her skin. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She stepped back, just enough to put space between them, eyes burning with fury. "Next time, Sinclair," she murmured through clenched teeth, "warn me before you decide to put on a show."

Jason chuckled, guiding her back into the crowd as if nothing had happened. But Elena knew—something had shifted.

And she wasn't sure she liked it.

A Dangerous Game

As the night wore on, Elena played her part flawlessly. She smiled when needed, laughed at the right moments, even let Jason rest his hand on the small of her back in an affectionate gesture that was anything but.

But inside, she was fuming.

Not just because Jason had kissed her without warning, but because a part of her hadn't hated it.

That was the real danger.

Jason Sinclair was a master manipulator, a man who thrived on control. And if she wasn't careful, she'd fall right into his web—one she had no intention of being trapped in.

By the time they finally left the event, Elena was exhausted. The moment they slid into the back of the Rolls-Royce, she yanked off her heels with a sigh.

Jason glanced at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Tired already?"

Elena shot him a look. "Pretending to adore you in front of hundreds of people is draining."

Jason chuckled, reaching for his phone. "Get used to it, darling. We have a year to go."

Elena exhaled, leaning her head back against the seat. A year.

Somehow, it felt much longer.