Chapter 5: Under the Spotlight

Emma's Point Of View

The air in the luxury suite was thick with the hum of activity. I sat in the center of the room, surrounded by a swarm of stylists, makeup artists, and hairdressers who seemed determined to reinvent me. Brushes swished across my cheeks, hot tools hissed in my hair, and a steady stream of orders filled the air.

"More volume on the crown."

"Darken her eyeliner. She needs to look bold."

"That dress has to be steamed again, every wrinkle must disappear!"

Their chatter blurred into white noise as I stared at myself in the mirror. Was that even me anymore?

It wasn’t the first time I had prepped for one of Steele Enterprises grand events. For three years, I’d been in the background at every company anniversary and gala, efficiently managing guest lists, sorting out seating arrangements, and ensuring everything ran smoothly. I was always the effective assistant. The invisible one.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, I wasn’t Emma Carter, the assistant. I was Emma Steele, Adrian’s wife. And the weight of that title pressed down on me like a lead blanket.

The stylists buzzed around me with an almost militant precision, fluffing, fixing, and tweaking every detail of my appearance. I barely recognized the woman staring back at me. My usually modest hair was swept into an elegant updo with soft tendrils framing my face. My makeup was bold, sultry, and painted with a precision I could never achieve on my own. And the dress, a floor-length, crimson gown that clung to my curves and sparkled under the suite's chandelier, screamed confidence I didn’t feel.

“Mrs. Steele, you’re all set,” the lead stylist announced with a triumphant smile, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

"Mrs. Steele." The title still felt foreign, like a pair of shoes that didn’t quite fit.

When the glam squad finally left, I stood alone in the massive suite, staring at my reflection. “You can do this, Emma,” I whispered to myself, though the tremor in my voice betrayed my nerves. “It’s just one night. Smile, nod, and don’t trip in these damn heels.”

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply to calm the nervous flutter in my chest. This wasn’t about me. It was about appearances. Adrian needed a wife, and I needed a miracle to save my brother. That’s all this was, a business arrangement. A contract.

The soft beep of the suite’s keycard panel interrupted my thoughts. My head snapped toward the door just as it opened, and Adrian Steele walked in.

He always carried himself with an air of effortless confidence, and tonight was no exception. He was dressed in a sleek, tailored tuxedo that hugged his frame perfectly. His dark hair was styled just enough to look polished without trying too hard, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the room before landing on me.

For a moment, his usual cool composure faltered. His gaze lingered, a flicker of something unspoken passing through his expression.

“You clean up well,” he said finally, his tone light but edged with something that almost sounded like admiration.

“Thank you,” I replied, my voice softer than I intended. He looked devastatingly handsome, but I quickly shoved that thought aside. "Get a grip, Emma."

“Do I…uhhmm... look presentable?” I asked, motioning toward the dress as self-doubt crept in.

Adrian’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “You’ll do,” he said, though his lingering gaze suggested more.

Before I could read too much into it, he added, “One thing, Don’t say anything to my mother tonight. I’ll handle her. She is sharp enough to pick up hints that prove this marriage is a sham.”

The mention of Mrs. Evelyn Steele sent a shiver down my spine. I had met her a few times, briefly though but that was enough to know she was a force to be reckoned with. Cold, calculating, and intimidating as hell.

“Got it,” I said, relieved that I wouldn’t have to face her wrath alone.

"Here put this on!" he handed me a tiny box, when I opened it I saw a beautiful Diamond ring, the shiny thing stunned me, I slid it on and it fit perfectly. As I admired it I wondered how much it could cost.

Adrian extended his arm. “enough of the gawking, Shall we?”

The ride to the venue was a blur. My nerves built with every passing minute until we finally arrived. The second we stepped out of the car, a sea of reporters and photographers swarmed us. Flashes exploded in every direction, blinding and disorienting me.

“Mr. Steele! Over here!”

“Is this your wife?”

“Are you two in love? Is she someone prominent like you?”

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. The questions came faster than I could process them, and I felt my hand start to tremble.

Adrian’s grip on my hand tightened, grounding me. He leaned in close, his voice low and steady. “Breathe, Emma. They’re just people. Ignore them.”

His words shouldn’t have been as comforting as they were, but somehow, they steadied me. I nodded, gripping his arm as the guards cleared a path for us.

Once inside, the noise of the reporters was replaced by the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of champagne glasses. The grand ballroom was breathtaking, with glittering chandeliers, lavish floral arrangements, and hundreds of impeccably dressed guests.

Adrian led me through the crowd, stopping occasionally to greet his colleagues and clients. Each time, he introduced me with a proud, “This is Emma, my wife.” Hearing the word “wife” from his lips felt surreal, like I was playing a role in someone else’s life.

It wasn’t long before we reached her.

Mrs. Evelyn Steele stood near the grand staircase, her presence commanding the space around her. She was dressed in a black gown that radiated elegance and authority. Beside her was a stunning blonde woman who could have stepped straight out of a fashion magazine. She was tall, willowy, and impossibly beautiful, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Adrian,” Mrs. Steele said, her voice cool and measured as he approached.

“Mother,” Adrian replied, leaning in to kiss her cheeks.

His gaze shifted to the blonde. “Celia,” he said with a curt nod.

She smiled, her dimples flashing as she murmured, “Adrian.”

I suddenly felt very small. The confidence I’d spent all day trying to muster evaporated in an instant. Celia looked like she belonged in this world. I didn’t.

Mrs. Steele’s sharp gaze shifted to me, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And what's your assistant doing in your arm like that?” she asked, her tone dripping with disapproval.

Adrian’s arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. His next words were spoken with an almost defiant edge.

“Mother, meet Emma Steele. My wife.”

The shriek of “What?!” echoed simultaneously from Evelyn and Celia, drawing the attention of a few nearby guests.

I flinched, my face burning with embarrassment as all eyes seemed to turn toward us. Adrian, ever composed, stood his ground, his expression unreadable.

I, on the other hand, wanted the floor to swallow me whole.

As Evelyn and Celia stared at me in stunned disbelief, one thought rang loud and clear in my mind.

"I was in for a full ride."