Lena didn't sleep much.
The silence of the penthouse was suffocating. Every creak, every hum of the city below, pressed against her like a weight she couldn't shake. By morning, her eyes were gritty, and her body felt like lead.
At precisely 7:00 a.m., her bedroom door clicked open.
"Good morning, Mrs. Blackwood."
It was Tessa, once again looking like she stepped out of a fashion magazine. Behind her trailed a small team of stylists wheeling in racks of designer clothes, cases of makeup, and hair tools.
Lena sat up in bed, startled. "Isn't this a bit... much?"
Tessa's smile was polite but cool. "Your first public appearance with Mr. Blackwood is tonight. The press will be watching. You need to look the part."
"I thought this was just for show," Lena mumbled, allowing herself to be ushered into a plush chair in front of the mirror.
Tessa's gaze met hers in the mirror. "It is. But when you marry Damien Blackwood, everything becomes a show. And the world expects a flawless performance."
Later That Evening The Blackwood Charity Gala
The transformation was almost unrecognizable.
Lena wore a sleek black gown with a plunging back and delicate beading that shimmered with every step. Her makeup was subtle but striking, her long hair swept into an elegant twist.
She looked like she belonged. Almost.
The private elevator opened directly into the penthouse foyer, and there he was.
Damien.
Standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows in a crisp charcoal tuxedo, nursing a glass of scotch. He turned when he heard her steps and for the first time, his gaze lingered.
His eyes traveled from her hair, to the bare skin of her back, to the fitted curve of the dress. Not a word. But something flickered behind his steely expression. Surprise, maybe. Or approval.
"You clean up well," he said finally.
Lena forced a smile. "I could say the same."
"You'll stay close to me tonight," he said, adjusting his cufflinks. "Smile when necessary. Don't speak unless spoken to. And if anyone asks our marriage is real. Understand?"
Lena nodded, throat dry. "Understood."
He extended an arm.
She hesitated for half a second before slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow.
His body was tense under the fine fabric of his suit. Controlled. Composed.
She wondered if he ever relaxed.
At the Gala
The ballroom was packed. The elite of the city mingled under chandeliers, sipping champagne and whispering behind manicured fingers.
As soon as they stepped in, all eyes turned.
Damien Blackwood rarely attended these events. And when he did, he was alone.
Tonight, he had a wife.
Lena smiled when she was supposed to, nodded when introduced, and played her role to perfection. But inside, she felt like she was walking a tightrope.
Whispers followed them.
"That's her?"
"She doesn't look like much."
"Probably a gold-digger. I give it three months."
She forced her chin higher.
Damien didn't acknowledge a single comment, but she could feel the tension rolling off him. His grip on her waist was firm, grounding.
After an hour, he guided her to a quiet balcony, away from the crowd.
"You're doing well," he said. It almost sounded like a compliment.
"I'm used to pretending," she said quietly. "Waitressing is all about putting on a face."
Damien looked at her then really looked. "You're not what I expected."
She arched a brow. "Let me guess. You thought I'd be begging for shopping sprees and spa days?"
"I thought you'd be a liability," he admitted. "But you're... disciplined."
It wasn't quite praise, but it was something.
"Is that why you chose me?" she asked. "Because I'm easy to control?"
Damien looked away. "Because you were desperate. And desperate people follow rules."
His words stung more than she wanted to admit.
Lena stepped back, creating distance. "I'm not your employee, Damien. I'm your wife. Even if it's just on paper."
He took a step toward her. His presence was overwhelming, all hard edges and cold fire.
"Then act like it," he said, his voice low. "Don't ever forget who you're married to."
She stared up at him, chin tilted stubbornly. "I won't. But maybe you should remember too."
For a moment, the air crackled between them.
Then, just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving her alone on the balcony with nothing but the wind and the sound of distant laughter.