The morning sunlight spilled into the Frost estate like liquid gold, but Rina felt none of its warmth.
She sat alone at the long, polished breakfast table. A line of untouched silverware gleamed beside her plate, the eggs already going cold.
Damien had yet to appear.
The silence echoed like a threat.
Rule One: Don't interfere with his personal life.Rule Two: Don't fall in love.Rule Three: Never lie.
He had laid them out like laws.And she was already toeing the edge of every single one.
Her phone buzzed on the table.
No sender.
"You're a good actress. But the curtain always falls."Attached: A blurry photo of her staring at Damien from across the table last night.
She nearly dropped the phone.
Who was doing this?Who was watching her?And why did they care?
Before she could delete the message, footsteps echoed down the stairs.
She shoved the phone under her napkin just as Damien entered the room.
His shirt was black today, crisp and perfectly pressed, but his eyes looked darker than usual—like he hadn't slept.
"Good morning," Rina said, trying to sound casual.
He sat across from her, fixing a cup of black coffee without looking at her. "Sleep well?"
"Fine," she lied.
That's one.
He looked up sharply, as if he'd heard the lie in her tone.
"You know," he said calmly, "the second rule seems harder for you than the third."
Rina blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You wear your emotions on your face," he said. "You always have."
Her heart skipped.
Damien sipped his coffee, then leaned back. "But let's review. Since you seem to need a reminder."
He raised a finger. "First, don't ask questions about me. No digging. No sudden visits. No showing up unannounced."
She nodded silently.
"Second," he continued, "we are not a real couple. We don't share feelings. No jealousy. No confessions."
"I understand."
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "And third—never lie to me."
Rina bit the inside of her cheek.
Damien's gaze dropped briefly to the napkin near her hand—the one hiding her phone.
For a terrifying second, she thought he would reach for it.
But instead, he stood.
"You'll come with me this evening," he said. "There's a business event. They'll expect Mrs. Frost to smile and stand by my side."
"Of course."
He paused in the doorway, then looked back. "And wear red. I want them to see you."
That evening, the Frost car slid through the city like a black phantom.
Inside, Rina sat beside Damien in the backseat, dressed in a scarlet evening gown that hugged her curves and made her feel naked under his gaze.
He hadn't said a word since they left the house.
But now, as the car stopped in front of the ballroom, he leaned in close.
Too close.
His voice was low, meant for her alone. "Tonight, you'll smile. You'll laugh. You'll let them believe we're in love."
Rina's breath caught. "And if they ask questions?"
"You improvise," he said. "But don't lie."
Her heart thundered. "Damien…"
He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek.
The gesture was gentle—almost tender—but his eyes were steel.
"Break any of those three rules," he murmured, "and I'll find out."
Inside the ballroom, she played the role flawlessly.She laughed when he said something dry. She smiled when women whispered about how lucky she was.And when Damien placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her through the crowd, she didn't flinch.
But inside, she was unraveling.
Every step, every glance, every word was a reminder:She was not supposed to feel this.She was not supposed to want his touch.
And yet—she did.
Back in the car, silence hung heavy once more.
Rina stared out the window, trying to breathe.
Then she heard him.
"Do you enjoy pretending to be someone you're not?"
Her head whipped around. "What?"
Damien was watching her. Closely. Too closely.
He didn't look angry.
He looked… curious. Calculating.
And suddenly, the air inside the car felt too tight.
Did he know?
Was he guessing?Testing?Or did he already see through her from the beginning?
"I—" she started, then caught herself.
He raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead. Lie to me."