C6 Chapter 6

"Smile, Mia," Adrian murmured, his voice low but commanding, his hand still firm on my waist. "Don’t let them see you falter."

My pulse raced as I steadied myself, forcing my lips into a practiced curve. But behind my smile, my mind was spinning. This wasn’t just overwhelming—it was suffocating.

The reporter lingered for a moment longer, their camera still trained on us, before moving on to someone else. I exhaled quietly, but Adrian didn’t loosen his grip.

"Are you always this controlling, or is it just me who gets the special treatment?" I muttered under my breath.

Adrian’s lips twitched, almost forming a smirk. "Only when someone needs it," he said coolly.

"Right," I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because tripping on my dress is a crime punishable by public humiliation."

His hand on my waist slid slightly, drawing me a fraction closer. "You’re not humiliated. You're fine," he said, his tone softer now. "This isn’t as big of a deal as you think it is. Just... follow my lead."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the intensity in his eyes stopped me. There was something unreadable there, something that made my heartbeat stutter.

The music shifted into a slower tune, and I felt the atmosphere around us change. Couples swayed together, the lights dimming just enough to create an illusion of intimacy.

"I’m fine, Adrian," I said quietly, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened at his closeness. "You don’t have to keep playing the savior."

"Who said I was playing?" His voice was low, and the way his gaze flicked to my lips made my breath catch.

Before I could respond, the sound of laughter drew my attention to the edge of the ballroom. A group of sharply dressed men and women stood chatting animatedly, their presence magnetic. One of them, a man with an easy smile and an air of confidence, caught my eye.

He was looking directly at me.

Adrian noticed immediately. His posture stiffened, his jaw tightening as his grip on my waist became almost possessive.

"Who’s that?" I asked, curious despite myself.

"No one important," Adrian said flatly, but his tone betrayed something deeper—irritation, maybe even jealousy.

The man stepped forward, raising a glass in our direction with a friendly nod. I smiled politely in return, but Adrian’s reaction was immediate.

"We need to talk," he said sharply, pulling me off the dance floor without waiting for a response.

"Adrian, what the hell?" I hissed, stumbling slightly as I tried to keep up with his long strides.

He didn’t stop until we were in a quieter corner of the room, away from the prying eyes of the crowd.

"What’s your problem?" I demanded, yanking my arm free from his grasp.

"My problem?" He turned to face me, his expression dark. "You tell me, Mia. Were you enjoying yourself back there?"

"Enjoying myself?" I repeated, incredulous. "Adrian, I smiled at a guy who happened to look my way. That’s hardly a crime."

"You’re my wife," he said, his voice low but sharp. "At least, that’s what everyone here believes. What do you think it looks like when you start smiling at other men like that?"

I stared at him, stunned. "You’re kidding, right? What exactly is this about?

"This is about maintaining appearances, Mia," Adrian said, his tone clipped but his eyes burning with something deeper.

I folded my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. "Oh, is that what this is? Appearances? Because from where I’m standing, it seems more like you’re throwing a fit because someone else looked at me."

He stepped closer, towering over me as his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Don’t push me, Mia. You have no idea how delicate this situation is."

I laughed, but it was humorless. "Delicate? Adrian, this isn’t some high-stakes negotiation. It’s a gala. And guess what? People look at other people. Get over it."

His jaw tightened, the muscle ticking as he fought to maintain control. "You think this is a joke?"

"I think you’re blowing this way out of proportion," I shot back. "Unless..." I tilted my head, a smirk playing on my lips. "Unless this isn’t just about appearances. Maybe you’re jealous?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Adrian’s gaze locked onto mine, his expression unreadable, but the tension between us was palpable.

"I’m not jealous," he said finally, his voice cold and precise.

"Sure," I said, dragging out the word. "Keep telling yourself that, Adrian."

Before I could take another breath, he closed the gap between us. His hand slid to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him. My heart slammed against my ribs as his other hand cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheek.

"Do you think this is a game?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

I swallowed hard, the heat of his proximity making it impossible to think straight. "Maybe I do," I whispered, my voice shaking slightly.

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. But instead, he leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke.

"You keep pushing, Mia," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "And one day, I might push back."

My breath hitched, and I hated how much his words affected me. "Is that a threat?"

"It’s a warning," he said simply, his voice steady.

Before I could respond, someone cleared their throat behind us. I jumped, stepping back from Adrian as quickly as I could.

A man in a sharp suit stood there, his eyebrows raised in mild amusement. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, though his tone suggested he wasn’t sorry at all. "Adrian, the host is asking for you."

Adrian nodded curtly, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer before turning away. "Stay here," he said over his shoulder, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As he walked away, I tried to steady my breathing, my mind racing. What the hell just happened?

I wandered to the edge of the ballroom, pretending to admire the glittering chandeliers while I tried to pull myself together. The air felt heavy, the tension of the night pressing down on me. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice Adrian’s return until his hand wrapped firmly around my arm.

"Come with me," he said, his voice sharp and low.

"Adrian, what—"

"Now," he said, cutting me off.

I barely had time to react before he was leading me out of the ballroom, through a side door, and into a dimly lit hallway. The sound of the gala faded behind us as he stopped abruptly, turning to face me.

"What is your problem?" I demanded, yanking my arm free. "You can’t just drag me around like—"

Adrian ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched tightly. "You’ve been set up," he said, his voice grim.

I blinked. "What are you talking about?"

Adrian’s gaze locked onto mine, unyielding and serious. "Someone’s spreading rumors about us. About you."

My stomach twisted. "What kind of rumors?"

He hesitated, his expression dark and unreadable. "That this marriage is a sham. That you’re in this for the money."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "What? That’s ridiculous!"

"I know," Adrian said, his voice softer now but no less intense. "But this is serious, Mia. If this gets out, it could ruin everything."

I stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. "Who would do this?"

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked as if he wanted to say more. But then, he shook his head. "I don’t know yet. But whoever it is... they’re watching us."

The air felt colder, heavier. I glanced around the dimly lit hallway, suddenly feeling exposed. "What do we do?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Adrian stepped closer, his presence steady and commanding. "We stay ahead of them," he said firmly. "But Mia—this means no more games. No more pushing boundaries. We can’t afford any mistakes."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. "Okay," I said, my voice shaky but resolute.

Adrian nodded, his sharp gaze never leaving mine. "Good."

But as he turned away, my expression darkened further, a shadow crossing my face.

Things are about to get real messy.