As the angry mob stormed into the narrow corner where Evie had dashed, one woman with a fierce frown scanned the area but found no trace of her.
"Where is she?" she demanded, her agitation palpable as another joined her.
"Where could she possibly go? She was right in front of us!" another shouted, frustration echoing in her voice as the group gathered, looking wildly from side to side, determined to find Evie.
Meanwhile, Evie was securely pinned against the wall by a man who had pressed his lips to hers. Her cheeks flared with embarrassment, and her heart raced as she locked eyes with him, startled by the intensity of his gaze. The crowd's voices were frantic and distant; their shouts were merely whispers as they scoured the area, oblivious to the fact that she was hidden beneath him.
"Split up! You go right, you go left," Evie heard someone bark.
"We must catch that woman and bring her to justice. She doesn't know how she's tarnished our society," another spat vehemently.
The crowd sprang into action, rushing past Evie without a clue about her predicament, concealed beneath the man's towering frame. As their anger faded into silence, Evie's heart continued to pound.
She sighed in relief as this stranger's presence had effectively shielded her from the overwhelming situation.
Evie swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes fixed on him, silently urging him to move away. Sensing her discomfort, he pulled back, yet his gaze remained locked on hers, forcing Evie to stand there, breathing heavily.
****
In no time, they were inside the bar, and the bartender slid a drink her way. She turned to the man who had just saved her from that mob, accepting the drink, "Thank you," she said, giving him a small smile before downing it. The liquid rushed down her throat, and her head began to clear.
"Evie, right?" he asked, his deep, velvety voice effortlessly capturing her attention.
She blinked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "How did you—?"
He cut her off with a pointed look. "You're all over the news. Hard not to know," he stated matter-of-factly before taking a sip of his drink.
Evie sighed. "Right. Of course," she replied, recalling how she ended up here.
A wave of embarrassment washed over her; this wasn't the kind of fame she had hoped for. Now everyone would judge her based on snippets of her life, and she knew it was more her fault than theirs.
While she pondered, the stranger beside her observed quietly, his expression calm and his posture composed. Finally, he spoke again, "You shouldn't be out here alone, not with the country out for blood."
"Well, I didn't expect to be chased," she said, swirling her drink and watching the ice clink against the glass. Her life felt like the script of a blockbuster movie—so surreal it made her want to laugh madly at her predicament. "Or kissed by a stranger" she added.
He responded coolly, "It was necessary. You needed a distraction; I provided one."
Evie pressed her lips together. "And now you're treating this like it's all perfectly normal."
Now that they were in the bar, surrounded by neon lights, she couldn't help but take in his appearance. He exuded elegance and refinement, looking every bit like a king. His features were striking—a sharp jawline, prominent cheekbones, and carved eyebrows. His jet-black hair was neatly combed, and his lips appeared as if they were meant to be tasted. His strong neck and broad shoulders were hard to ignore. She could have stared forever; he embodied the essence of a Greek god. How had she even stumbled upon him, in a place like this?
His deep voice pulled her out of her reverie, his gaze locking with hers, "It is. For me."
She blinked again, feeling the intensity of his black gaze pulling her in. "Well... thanks, I suppose," she muttered, quickly averting her eyes, unable to withstand the heat of his stare.
A brief silence enveloped them as they both sipped their drinks, the music thrumming in the background alongside the neon glow.
Then he broke the stillness again, "I'm not pretending I helped you out of kindness. I need something."
Evie raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued by what he could want from someone whose reputation was on the decline. That he was even drinking with her was astounding. He seemed like a busy man, yet he had chosen to engage her, which meant he had something specific in mind.
"What could that possibly be?" she inquired, still cautious.
He looked straight ahead as he spoke, "I'm in the middle of a mess myself. Wrong rumors. Wrong headlines. My team believes a relationship could ease the situation. And you're already in the spotlight."
Her eyebrows furrowed, skepticism evident. "So... What now?" She was trying to grasp where this was headed.
He met her gaze, "You need a distraction from the spotlight, and I need an anchor. We can sign an agreement that benefits us both." His voice was firm, devoid of any hint of jest.
Evie's lips parted, processing his proposal. She wouldn't pretend she wasn't concerned or wary; everything felt surreal, as if she had stepped out of her own life. Did this stranger propose that they be together? "So... You want us to be in a relationship?" she asked pointedly.
"Not a real one," he replied flatly.
"Oh," she echoed, trying to digest this. "So... To fake date?" She looked at him, sensing his impatience, but he nodded once, confirming her deduction.
She took a deep breath, leaning back in her chair. "This is absurd," she thought, biting her lip. After a moment, she pierced him with her gaze. "Who even are you?" she wondered, for him to propose something like this... Could he possibly be a celebrity or an actor?
She didn't think she had seen him before, though he looked familiar. She couldn't place a finger on it.
"Ezra Thorne," he replied.
Ezra?
The name suddenly clicked in her mind, and she could hardly believe it.
"You're THAT Ezra?" she exclaimed, her surprise unintentionally spilling over.
"Yes," he confirmed, and her gaze ran over him.
Here he was, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, polished shoes, and an elegant Cartier wristwatch. This was Ezra Thorne, the mogul of Country M, known for several luxury brands. She couldn't believe her luck in encountering him—especially now, given his trending status, albeit not for the right reasons.
"Only six months," he said, breaking her stunned silence. "There will be public appearances, photos, and interviews, but you'll receive protection and a cleaner image."
This offer glimmered with potential, and she could see the advantages it held. She understood why he needed her, and truthfully, she needed someone like him too. Yet, Evie refused to appear overly eager; she had to maintain some semblance of dignity, if that still existed. "And what happens after these six months?" she probed.
"We walk away. It'll be as though it never happened," he replied.
Evie weighed her options, contemplating, "And if I say no?"
He avoided her gaze, sipping his drink, seemingly indifferent. "Then I'll finish my drink, and we'll act as if we never met," he stated, his tone icy.
She pressed her lips together, her mind racing through various scenarios, all leading her to the same conclusion: she had to agree. Deep down, she felt a flicker of hope that she could turn her situation around. It was a risk, but she wanted to remain optimistic in these troubled times.
Looking at Ezra, she realized how unbothered he seemed, as if he could easily find another person for the deal.
But she knew this opportunity was golden, one she couldn't let slip away. Even if she was digging for gold, she was determined to do whatever it took to save herself.
"I'm in," she declared, her voice steady and resolute.
"You made the right choice,"