The ride back to the mansion was quiet.
Too quiet.
Camille stared out the window, watching the city blur past, but her mind wasn't on the traffic or the buildings.
It was on the moment that had almost happened.
Dante's hand on the back of her neck.
His face so close to hers.
That look in his eyes.
For a second she had truly believed he was going to kiss her.
And the worst part?
Her body had been ready for it.
Camille clenched her jaw slightly and shifted in her seat.
Across from her, Dante looked completely composed, scrolling through something on his phone like nothing had happened.
The nerve.
"You're very good at pretending," she muttered.
Dante didn't look up.
"Pretending what?"
"That nothing happened."
Now he lifted his eyes.
"Nothing did happen."
Camille scoffed.
"You almost kissed me."
His expression didn't change.
"Almost."
The word lingered between them.
Camille leaned forward slightly.
"So why didn't you?"
Dante held her gaze calmly.
"Because you wanted me to."
Her breath caught.
"You're arrogant."
"I'm observant."
Camille rolled her eyes and leaned back again.
But inside, her pulse was still racing.
The car finally pulled into the long driveway of the mansion.
As they stepped out, the evening air felt cooler.
The sky was darkening.
Inside the house, lights glowed warmly across the marble floors.
Dante loosened his tie slightly as they walked in.
"Get ready," he said.
Camille frowned.
"For what?"
"A dinner event tonight."
She stopped walking.
"You're joking."
He turned toward her.
"I'm not."
"You didn't mention anything about dinner."
"I am now."
Camille crossed her arms.
"I'm not going."
Dante studied her calmly.
"You are."
She shook her head.
"Try again."
For a moment neither of them moved.
Then Dante sighed softly and walked closer.
Too close.
His voice lowered.
"This dinner involves people who are trying to challenge my company."
"And?"
"And they'll be watching you."
Camille's eyebrows lifted.
"So I'm your decoration tonight?"
His gaze darkened.
"No."
"Then what?"
He stepped even closer until there was barely space between them.
"My wife."
The way he said it made her stomach twist.
Not gentle.
Not romantic.
Possessive.
Camille lifted her chin stubbornly.
"You're enjoying this too much."
Dante's mouth curved slightly.
"You married me for revenge."
"And you married me for strategy."
"So stop pretending you didn't know what this would involve."
Camille stared at him.
He wasn't wrong.
That annoyed her more.
"Fine," she muttered.
"Good."
He started walking toward the stairs.
Then paused.
Without turning around he added calmly,
"And wear the red dress."
Camille frowned.
"What red dress?"
"The one in your wardrobe."
She blinked.
"You picked my clothes now?"
Dante finally looked back at her.
His gaze moved slowly from her face down to her legs.
Then back up.
"Yes."
Her stomach flipped again.
Two hours later Camille stood in front of the mirror.
The red dress fit like it had been made for her.
Long.
Elegant.
The fabric hugged her curves perfectly.
She hated that Dante had chosen something that looked this good.
When she walked downstairs, he was already waiting in the living room.
The moment he saw her, he froze.
Just slightly.
But Camille noticed.
His eyes moved over her slowly.
From her shoulders.
To her waist.
To the curve of her hips.
For once, Dante didn't speak immediately.
Camille smirked.
"Speechless?"
He recovered quickly.
"You clean up well."
"That's the best compliment you have?"
Dante stepped closer.
"No."
His voice lowered slightly.
"But it's the safest one."
Her heart skipped.
They drove to the event together.
The building hosting the dinner was one of the most expensive hotels in the city.
When they entered the ballroom, conversations slowed.
Eyes turned.
People recognized Dante instantly.
But Camille noticed something else again.
The way women looked at him.
Interested.
Admiring.
Some even jealous.
She didn't know why that bothered her.
It shouldn't.
Their marriage wasn't real.
Still…
A tall woman in a silver dress approached them.
She smiled brightly at Dante.
"Dante."
Her voice was smooth.
Familiar.
Camille's eyes narrowed slightly.
The woman stepped closer and kissed Dante lightly on the cheek.
"Long time no see."
Dante nodded politely.
"Vanessa."
Camille watched carefully.
Vanessa's eyes finally moved to her.
"Oh."
A pause.
Then a polite smile.
"And you must be the wife."
Camille returned the smile.
"I must be."
Vanessa laughed softly.
"I've heard a lot about you."
"Hopefully good things."
Vanessa glanced at Dante briefly.
"That depends who you ask."
Something about her tone made Camille instantly dislike her.
Vanessa turned back to Dante.
"You disappeared from the dating scene so suddenly."
Her voice dropped slightly.
"I was starting to think you were avoiding me."
Dante's expression remained calm.
"I've been busy."
Vanessa's eyes sparkled.
"You always say that."
Camille crossed her arms slightly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Vanessa looked at Camille again.
"You're very beautiful."
Camille smiled politely.
"Thank you."
Then she added sweetly,
"And you're very brave."
Vanessa blinked.
"Brave?"
"Yes."
Camille tilted her head.
"Flirting with someone's husband in front of his wife takes courage."
The nearby guests suddenly became very quiet.
Vanessa's smile stiffened slightly.
Dante watched the exchange carefully.
Amused.
Vanessa recovered quickly.
"I wasn't flirting."
Camille's smile widened.
"Of course not."
The tension thickened.
Then Dante stepped forward.
His arm slid around Camille's waist.
The sudden contact made her breath catch.
He pulled her closer against his side.
Possessively.
His voice was calm but firm.
"Vanessa."
She looked at him.
"My wife doesn't enjoy unnecessary games."
Vanessa's eyes flickered.
Then she smiled again.
"Of course."
She lifted her drink slightly.
"Enjoy the evening."
And walked away.
Camille looked up at Dante.
"You have interesting friends."
"They're not friends."
"Good."
Dante looked down at her.
"Jealous?"
She laughed.
"Please."
But she didn't move away from his arm around her waist.
Neither did he remove it.
And somewhere deep down, Camille realized something dangerous.
This fake marriage was starting to feel very real.
And the line between acting and feeling was becoming harder to see.