Chapter Four: The City’s Most Shocking Marriage

EVA’S POV

The headlines were everywhere.

"Eva Sinclair, the Betrayed Wife, Marries Billionaire Leon Castello!"

"Revenge or Romance? The Scandalous Union No One Saw Coming."

"Daniel Sinclair’s Ex-Wife Becomes His Rival’s Bride."

I stared at my phone, scrolling through the endless flood of articles, social media posts, and comments dissecting every detail of my sudden marriage to Leon Castello.

People speculated. They gossiped. They called me everything from a gold digger to a genius. Some pitied me. Others envied me.

But the truth?

I didn't even know what to make of this..

Sitting down in the passenger seat with Leon in his car, just looking out the window as we got to his penthouse. The huge glass building overwhelmed me, expensive and cold—just like the man sitting beside me.

Leon hadn’t spoken much since we left the courthouse earlier that morning, where we signed the marriage certificate in front of a judge and a handful of legal witnesses. No ceremony. No vows. Just a transaction.

But the world turned it into the largest scandal of the year, anyway.

The car stopped, and a valet rushed forward to help me open my door.

Leon stepped out first, his imposing frame cutting through the crisp evening air. He didn’t even glance back as I followed, my heels clicking against the pavement as I took in the lavish entrance of the Castello residence.

A doorman nodded respectfully. "Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Castello."

I flinched at the title, but Leon didn’t react. He strode through the grand lobby, and I had no choice but to follow.

Home.

The thought was almost laughable.

I had spent the past five years in a modest house with warm, cozy spaces and framed pictures on the walls. This? This was a fortress.

The penthouse was beautiful— with tall ceilings, ceiling-to-floor windows that looked at the shiny city skyline, and classy, futuristic furniture that screamed luxury and money. Loads of it.

Yet it felt… empty.

Leon loosened his tie as he walked toward the bar. "You’re scheduled for a dress fitting in an hour."

I blinked. "A dress fitting?"

"For the gala tonight." He poured himself a drink, his movements effortless. "You’ll be attending as my wife."

I hesitated. "Is that really necessary?"

He lifted his gaze to me, his dark eyes unreadable. "You’re Mrs. Castello now. The city is waiting to see you."

Right.

This wasn’t just a marriage. It was a performance.

I breathed out, rubbing my forehead. "Fine. But I'm not some rag doll you can dress up and show around."

A flicker of something—amusement, maybe—crossed his face. "I wouldn’t dare."

An hour later, I was standing in front of a mirror, looking at the woman I could not recognize.ME

The stylist had worked on me quickly, sweeping my hair up into a soft but elegant updo. The makeup was flawless—subtle yet striking. But it was the dress that truly transformed me.

It was a midnight blue gown, which was fitting at the waist, it had delicate crystal decorations that shone under the light. It was the kind of dress, I would have never have chosen for myself or even been able to afforded for myself.

The kind of dress that made me look powerful.

I turned slightly, the silk brushing against my skin.

"You look… stunning," the stylist murmured, almost in awe.

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the fabric.

Stunning.

I had never cared much about appearances. But tonight wasn’t about me. Tonight was about sending a message.

Leon Castello’s wife wasn’t a victim.

She was untouchable.

THE GALA

The moment we stepped into the grand ballroom, the air shifted.

It was not just the shiny chandeliers showing golden light over the hundreds of guests present or the soft sound of a live band playing in the background. It was the eyes. Hundreds of them. Turning. Watching. Whispering. Judging.

The weight of their scrutiny pressed against my skin like a second gown—heavy, suffocating.

Leon, as always, seemed unaffected. His hand rested softly on my waist, a simple yet possessive gesture, as if daring anyone to question who I was to him. He led me through the room with the same effortless command he had over boardrooms and billion-dollar deals, his expression calm, unreadable.

I, on the other hand, felt the whispers coil around me like a noose.

"Did you hear? She was married to Daniel Sinclair."

"And now she’s with Castello? That’s one hell of an upgrade."

"Or a calculated move."

"Either way, she must be incredible in bed."

Heat crawled up my spine, not from embarrassment—but from anger. These people didn’t know me. They didn’t know my pain, my humiliation. They saw a headline, a scandal, and assumed I was a pawn in a billionaire’s game.

I squared my shoulders, forcing a slow, steady breath. If they wanted a show, I’d give them one.

Leon paused near the bar, signaling for a waiter. The gesture was so subtle, yet the bartender snapped to attention, placing a glass of champagne in my hand within seconds.

"Drink," Leon murmured, his breath brushing against my ear.

I hesitated, fingers tightening around the delicate stem. "Are you worried I’ll embarrass you?"

He turned Abit, his gaze going to mine. "I’m just worried you’ll break that glass with how hard you’re gripping it."

I breathed out sharply, forcing my fingers to stay calm. The bubbles fizzed against my lips as I took a sip, the chilled wine doing little to cool the heat boiling inside me.

Then I felt it.

A stare.

Not just any stare.

His stare.

I turned before I could stop myself. And there he was.

Daniel Sinclair.

Our eyes locked across the room.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

He was standing beside Vanessa, her manicured nails placed suggestively on his arm, her lips smiling in the kind of victorious way that made me angry. But Daniel—he wasn’t smiling at all.

I could not read his expression, but his grip on his whiskey glass was tight. Too tight. His blue eyes dragged over me, lingering, assessing. And then something flickered across his face—something dark and ugly.

Regret?

No. That was impossible.

Daniel didn’t regret things.

Leon must have felt the shift in my posture because his hand pressed lightly against the small of my back, grounding me. "Are you ready to make them choke on their own gossip?"

I turned back to him, forcing a smile. "Always."

And just like that, I allowed Leon take me deeper into the den of LIONS.

The evening continued in a flow of polite conversations and clinking of champagne glasses. Leon was the perfect host—charming, put together, effortlessly authoritative.

But I felt it. The tension. The weight of Daniel’s stare.

And then he made his move.

I had just stepped away from Leon for a brief moment when I felt someone grab my wrist.

I turned sharply.

Daniel.

"Eva," he said, his voice low. "We need to talk."

I wrenched my arm free. "There’s nothing left to say."

His jaw tightened. "You married him out of spite, didn’t you?"

I let out a cold laugh. "Oh, that’s rich. Coming from the man who cheated on me and walked out without a word."

"Don’t act like this is real," he snapped. "Castello is using you."

"And you didn’t?" I shot back.

He opened his mouth, but could not utter a word.

Exactly my thoughts.

Before he could regain his composure, another voice was heard.

"Is there a problem?"

Leon’s presence was sudden and overwhelming. He stepped beside me, his gaze locked onto Daniel’s.

Daniel straightened, his mask of arrogance slipping back into place. "Just having a little chat with my ex-wife."

Leon’s lips moved into something that felt like amusement. "Funny. From a glance, it looks more like assault."

Tension crackled between them.

"I should congratulate you, Castello," Daniel said, his voice smooth but laced with venom. "You certainly know how to pick up what I throw away."

Leon moved. Not in anger. Not in violence.

But in pure, deliberate power.

"Careful, Sinclair," he said, his voice deadly soft. "My wife is not someone you can insult."

Silence.

Daniel clenched his jaw. But he said nothing.

Because he knew.

In this room, in this moment—he had already lost.

Leon turned to me, his expression softer. "Are you ready to go, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart.

For the first time since this nightmare began…

I wasn’t alone.