The night after the gala should have been uneventful. Serena expected Elias to retreat to his office, pour himself a drink, and bury himself in business. Instead, he appeared at her door just as she was taking off her earrings.
"We have another event," he said.
Serena blinked. "Another gala?"
"A charity auction. Smaller, but the press will be there. They'll be watching us closely."
She almost groaned. "And by 'watching us closely' you mean…?"
"I mean you'll smile, laugh at my jokes, and look like you're hopelessly in love with me," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Two hours later, they were walking into a lavish auction hall. The crowd was more intimate than last night's, but the cameras were everywhere, their flashes like small bursts of lightning. Serena felt Elias's hand settle at her waist, his fingers pressing lightly, guiding her.
They moved through the room with seamless coordination, stopping to greet people, sipping champagne. Every touch was calculated, every glance rehearsed—or so she told herself. But when his hand brushed her bare shoulder, a shiver betrayed her.
Then it happened.
An older businessman, clearly tipsy, chuckled and said too loudly, "Let's see the newlyweds seal it with a kiss!"
The people nearby turned, smiling expectantly. A few phones lifted, already recording. Serena froze. The contract didn't require this.
Elias's eyes met hers. His gaze was calm, unreadable, but there was the faintest question in it.
Before she could think, he closed the distance. His lips met hers in a kiss that was supposed to be brief—just enough to satisfy the crowd. But it wasn't brief.
His mouth was warm, firm, lingering just a second too long. And the way his hand slid to the small of her back felt anything but staged. The crowd erupted in light applause, and Elias finally pulled away, his expression composed as if nothing had happened.
"Perfect," he murmured under his breath, guiding her forward again.
Serena followed, her heart still racing. She told herself it was just part of the act, but the truth was harder to swallow: nothing about that kiss had felt like pretending.
Later, in the car, silence stretched between them. The city lights flickered across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw.
"About earlier…" she began.
He glanced at her. "We played our parts."
"Yes," she said quietly, turning back to the window. But her lips still tingled, and deep down, she knew they'd crossed an invisible line.