Chapter 3 Playing Pretend

(Lila)

I smoothed down my red dress and made my way to the bar. No one even tried to hide their stares tonight. The Montgomery name commanded attention, whether I wanted it or not.

“Whiskey, neat,” I told the bartender, deliberately positioning myself next to Nicholas.

He turned, and those striking blue eyes landed on me. “Let me guess. Lila Montgomery?”

“What gave me away?”

“The red dress.” His smile widened. “Your mother mentioned you’d be wearing one.”

“Of course she did.” I accepted my drink from the bartender. “And you’re Nicholas Baldwin.”

“Nick, please. Only my father calls me Nicholas, usually when he’s disappointed in me.” He touched his glass against mine. “Which is most of the time.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. There was something disarming about him, so different from his nephew’s intensity.

“So,” he leaned closer, “want to tell me why your mother’s so desperate to get us talking?”

“Probably hoping we’ll fall madly in love and merge our empires.”

“Ah, the classic rich people matchmaking scheme.” He winked. “Though I have to admit, there are worse fates than being matched with the most beautiful woman in the room.”

I rolled my eyes, but felt myself relaxing. “Does that line usually work for you?”

“You’d be surprised.” He gestured to a quieter corner. “Want to escape the spotlight for a bit? People are starting to stare.”

We found a secluded spot near the terrace doors. The fresh air cleared my head. It was a relief from the stuffiness of the ballroom.

“So,” Nick said, “what’s your story? Besides being the mysterious Montgomery heiress who never appears in tabloids?”

“There’s not much to tell. I run our international division, keep to myself, and avoid scandal.”

“Boring.” He grinned. “What about the real you? The one behind all this?” He waved his hand, gesturing to the face I showed the world.

“The real me?” I laughed bitterly. “I’m not sure I know her anymore.”

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Try me.” He leaned against the wall, giving me his full attention. “I’m told I’m an excellent listener.”

Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe it was just the curiosity in his eyes, but I found myself talking. Not about Ethan specifically, but about the exhaustion of always being someone else’s idea of perfection.

Nick nodded along, occasionally adding his own stories of family pressure and expectations. He made me laugh with stories of his rebellious youth. All of them were more outrageous than the last!

“Did you really steal your father’s yacht?”

“Borrowed,” he corrected. “And in my defense, I was trying to impress a girl.”

“Did it work?”

“She married my best friend six months later.”

I was still laughing when I felt it—that tingling sensation at the back of my neck that always meant Ethan was near. I turned instinctively, and my heart stopped.

Ethan stood at the entrance with Grace on his arm. She wore a stunning green dress that made her look like a princess. Her dark hair rippled down her pale shoulders, just like my own.

They looked perfect together, like something out of a fashion magazine.

“Lila?” Nick’s voice seemed to come from far away. “You okay?”

Ethan scanned the room and locked his eyes onto mine. Even from across the ballroom, I could feel the force of his stare. Grace noticed his distraction and followed his line of sight. Her full lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

They started walking toward us.

Panic clawed at my throat. I couldn’t face them, couldn’t bear to see Ethan look at me with that cold disgust again. Not here, not now.

“Nick,” I whispered urgently, “I need a huge favor.”

He must have heard the desperation in my voice because his casual demeanor shifted instantly to concern. “Name it.”

“Pretend to be my boyfriend.”

I barely got the words out before Ethan and Grace reached us. Nick’s arm slipped around my waist smoothly, pulling me against his side like we’d done this a thousand times before.

“Ethan,” Nick greeted casually. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed as he looked between us. He stared at Nick’s arm around my waist. “Uncle Nicholas.”

Grace’s eyes widened slightly—clearly, she hadn’t known who Nick was either. Nick nodded to Grace. His grip on me tightened subtly.

“Ms. Williams. Welcome back to the city.”

“Thank you. I didn’t realize you were…”

She did not complete her sentence. I felt Ethan’s gaze burning into me, waiting for my response. Nick turned to press a kiss to my temple, and I had to fight not to flinch at the unexpected intimacy.

“You’re with him?” Ethan asked me.

“It’s new,” Nick said smoothly. “But when you know, you know. Right, darling?”

“Right.” I forced myself to smile up at him, trying to ignore the way Ethan’s eyes darkened.

“How long?”

The question was directed at me, and there was that fury to it that I recognized from that morning. Before I could answer, Nick spoke again.

“Long enough. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I promised my girlfriend a dance.”

He led me toward the dance floor. Just before we turned away, I caught Grace placing her hand on Ethan’s arm. Her gesture seemed both possessive and soothing.

“Well,” Nick murmured as he pulled me into a dance position, “this should be interesting.”

I looked up at him, trying to read his expression. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

“Are you kidding?” He grinned, spinning me gracefully. “This is the most fun I’ve had at one of these events in years. Though you might want to tell me why my nephew looks like he wants to murder me.”

I gulped hard, watching Ethan lead Grace onto the dance floor on the opposite side of the room.

“It’s a long story.”

“Good thing we have all night. After all, we have an audience to convince.”

As if on cue, Ethan’s gaze met mine over Grace’s shoulder. The look in his eyes made my breath catch—it wasn’t the cold disgust from that morning.

It was pure, undiluted rage.