Confidence POV
I should've known Charles wasn't finished.
Right when I thought we were finally stepping out of the hotel room, he stopped me, reached into his inner pocket, and brought out something small… velvet… dangerous.
A ring box.
My heart dropped to my knees.
"Charles, what—"
He opened it.
The ring inside wasn't normal.
It wasn't simple.
It wasn't subtle.
It was stunning.
A halo diamond, shimmering like it had its own heartbeat.
It looked like something meant for royalty, not for a girl who barely had fifty pounds in her account.
"Put it on," he said.
I whispered, "This is too much."
"It's necessary." He gently took my hand. "Ethan will notice details. If we're pretending, we don't do it halfway."
I didn't want to admit it…
but it fit perfectly.
Like it had been made for me.
"We've been dating for six months," he added casually.
My eyes widened. "Charles—"
"What? You want us to have met yesterday? Use your brain."
I wanted to slap him.
I wanted to thank him.
Both.
"I can't believe you're enjoying this," I muttered.
He smirked. "Who says I'm pretending?"
I didn't respond.
I couldn't.
He held out his arm. "Ready?"
"No."
"Good. Let's go."
The moment we stepped out of the car and walked toward the glowing hall entrance, my knees nearly buckled. The lights, the music, the sea of expensive dresses—it all swallowed me.
I felt small.
I felt exposed.
Charles sensed it instantly.
His hand slid to my waist, warm and grounding. "Relax. I'm here."
And somehow, that helped.
We stepped inside.
People turned.
Whispers rose.
Then Ethan saw me.
He froze.
His eyes widened first.
Then darkened.
Then burned.
Ruth gasped loudly, pointing at my ring like she had discovered treasure.
"Oh my GOD, Confidence! You two are ENGAGED?!" She jumped and clasped my hands. "You're getting married next Christmas? That's so romantic!"
I forced a smile and nodded. "Yes… next Christmas."
Charles squeezed my waist discreetly, his way of saying good job.
But Ethan…
Ethan didn't hide his reaction.
He walked toward us slowly, dangerously, like he was approaching prey. His eyes didn't leave me for a second.
"Well," he murmured, gaze sweeping down my dress. "I never knew a pumpkin could be beautiful."
My heart dropped.
But then he leaned in, his fingers brushing my neck, his thumb tracing my jaw like he had the right.
"A pumpkin," he whispered, "can be beautiful… if someone gives it enough attention."
The whole room melted away.
His tone was soft.
His eyes were warm.
For the first time, it felt like he meant what he was saying.
For the first time, I almost felt seen.
But before the feeling could settle, Charles stepped slightly closer, his body angled protectively—subtle, but clear.
Ethan didn't like that.
I needed space.
I needed air.
I needed to breathe without Ethan's eyes swallowing me whole.
I slipped outside toward the back courtyard, trying to calm my racing heart.
But I didn't even make it three steps before a familiar voice called sharply:
"Confidence."
I stiffened.
Ethan stood there, hands in his pockets, jaw tight, eyes flashing with frustration.
I tried to walk past him.
He blocked my path.
"Are you being serious right now?!"
My anger flared. "What do you mean by that?"
"There's been a surge of idiots trying to use me lately," he hissed, stepping closer. "My schooling. My connections. My family name. But this—" he laughed bitterly, "—this is the first time someone used my ex-wife as a weapon. I must admit… it's innovative."
I froze.
Ex-wife.
He said it like it was an insult.
I let out a slow, exhausted breath. "I guess success has blinded you, Ethan. You really think the whole world revolves around you, don't you?"
"Oh please," he scoffed. "Charles and you? It's fake. I see it. There's no love in your eyes when you look at him. You don't look at him like you looked at me."
That cut deep.
But not because it was true.
Because it used to be.
I lifted my chin. "Maybe it's because I'm being loved—truly loved—now. Not pathetically crawling behind someone, begging for love and crumbs like I used to. My eyes regained their self-worth. Maybe you should try doing the same."
He flinched.
He actually flinched.
Then he smirked coldly. "How much is he paying you to act like this? I can pay you more."
He reached for his wallet.
Something inside me snapped.
Before he could unzip it, I snatched the wallet out of his hand and threw it across the pavement.
"Don't you ever insult him like that," I hissed. "Charles is a better man than you'll ever be. And he's the man I love."
The words came out fierce.
Sharp.
True—at least in that moment.
I turned and walked away, leaving Ethan frozen, stunned, speechless.
For once, maybe for the first time ever…
I won.
The moment we walked back into the hall, Ethan's eyes were waiting—sharp, suspicious, hungry for something to tear apart. I wasn't prepared for him to open his mouth so fast.
"Charles," he said loudly, smug curling at the corner of his lips, "what made you fall in love with Confidence?"
My heart stopped.
We didn't plan that question.
Not even close.
I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears, my palms sweating. If Charles messed up even one detail, Ethan would rip everything apart. He's always been that way—quiet, sharp, and deadly.
Charles didn't answer immediately. He just gave Ethan that lazy, disarming smile that could melt steel. My stomach tightened.
Then he spoke softly, "Well… I don't have an answer to that question."
My breath caught.
Ethan smirked like he'd finally caught us.
But before Ethan could celebrate for long, Charles leaned in a little, eyes warm and amused.
"Because," he continued, "if I start to talk about her charm… we won't go home tonight."
And then—like it was the easiest thing in the world—he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my cheek.
The room melted into murmurs.
My lungs forgot how to work.
I needed to shut this down before it spiraled into something uncontrollable. Before Ethan figured out one more thing. Before Charles said something too real. Before I accidentally believed him.
I grabbed Ruth's hand.
"We need some air," I said, forcing a laugh.
But I didn't wait for her reply.
I dragged Charles outside, practically choking on anxiety.
As soon as we were alone, I turned on him.
"He's figuring us out," I whispered harshly, my chest rising and falling. "He keeps asking about my life. He's going to keep digging, Charles. He won't stop. What are we going to do? I'm—"
I swallowed hard. "I'm shaking. I don't think I can continue this."
Charles just looked at me.
Calm.
Steady.
Almost amused.
"From what I see," he said slowly, "he's green with envy. And that"—he smirked—"was exactly what I was going for."
I opened my mouth to answer, but then—
The doors to the hall burst open.
People started coming out, voices rising, cameras flashing.
And Ethan—of course—was marching toward us with that stupid victory look on his face, like he finally caught the crack in our act.
No.
No, that wasn't happening.
Not again.
Not with him.
Not in this lifetime.
Before my body even fully agreed, I turned to Charles—my hands on his cheeks—and kissed him.
His lips froze under mine.
He wasn't expecting it.
Hell, I barely expected it.
But Ethan did.
He saw everything.
And when Charles didn't push me away—when he actually leaned in just slightly—Ethan's face darkened, jaw clenched so tight I heard his teeth grind.
He turned and walked away, shoulders stiff with anger.
Only then did I pull back, breath shaky.
My voice was barely a whisper.
"I'm so sorry. Ethan was coming toward us and I had to prove we're in love. I couldn't let him win."
But Charles…
He wasn't breathing normally.
His chest rose and fell too fast.
His eyes wouldn't leave my lips.
Something dangerous flashed through them.
He stepped closer.
And then—slow, deliberate, devastating—Charles kissed me back.
Not a fake kiss.
Not an act.
Not a performance.
A real kiss.
Deep.
Hungry.
Possessive.
A kiss that made my knees weaken and my spine melt.
A kiss that told me exactly what kind of man he truly was beneath all the suits and calculated calm.
His hand slid to my waist, pulling me closer, his lips moving against mine like he'd been waiting to taste me.
Like he'd wanted this long before our stupid game began.
My fingers curled into his shirt.
I didn't mean for that to happen.
I didn't mean for my body to soften into him.
But God.
Charles kissed like a man who didn't beg…
He took.
And I let him.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathless.
For a moment, I forgot the game.
Forgot Ethan.
Forgot everything.
It was just heat…
and tension…
and the man whose heartbeat was thundering against my chest.
"Confidence," he whispered, voice rough, "if you do that again… I won't be able to stop."
My breath shivered out.
Because part of me—
a very stupid part—
wanted him not to stop.