CHAPTER FIVE: THE ANNOUNCEMENT

Zara’s POV

The gentle warmth of Evander’s embrace lingered even as the cold reality of our situation settled in. I stared at the makeshift sunflower ring on my finger, my heart pounding. It was ridiculous—childish, even—but for the first time in years, something in me flickered with hope.

But I couldn’t afford hope. Not yet.

Evander’s deep voice pulled me back to the present. “We should leave.”

I nodded, still shaken. My mind whirled, replaying Grace’s threats and Cassandra’s venomous glare. They wouldn’t let this go.

I knew them too well.

The ride to Evander’s penthouse was silent, filled only with the low hum of the car’s engine. My fingers tightened around the edge of my dress as I stared out the window, the city lights blurring together. I should have felt victorious—after all, I had gotten what I wanted. I was engaged to Evander Blackwood, the one man Cassandra wanted more than anything.

But deep down, a sliver of doubt twisted inside me.

Had I made a mistake?

I glanced at Evander from the corner of my eye. His hands gripped the steering wheel with a quiet authority, his jaw set in a firm line. There was something unreadable in his expression, something restrained. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

“We’re here.”

His voice cut through the silence, and I turned to see the towering glass building before us. Of course, Evander Blackwood lived in the most expensive penthouse in the city.

He stepped out first, walking around to open my door.

I hesitated before taking his offered hand. His palm was warm, steady, and just for a second, I let myself hold onto it before I pulled away.

Inside, the penthouse was just as I expected—sleek, modern, and designed with precision. Dark marble floors stretched across the space, reflecting the soft glow of ambient lighting. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline, and the entire space exuded wealth and power.

He poured himself a drink, then turned toward me. “Drink?”

I shook my head. “I think I drank enough last night.”

A small smirk curled his lips, but he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned against the bar, watching me. “Are you having second thoughts?”

I lifted my chin. “No.”

“Good.” He took a slow sip of his whiskey. “Because once I commit to something, I don’t go back on my word.”

His words sounds like both a promise and a warning.

I crossed my arms. “Neither do I.”

Something flickered in his eyes—something close to amusement. He placed his glass down and stepped toward me, closing the space between us.

“We need to make this look real.”

I swallowed. “It is real.”

“Is it?” He arched a brow. “We both know why we’re doing this. You want revenge, and I want…” He trailed off, his voice smooth, calculating. “Let’s just say I enjoy winning.”

I clenched my fists. “And what does ‘making it look real’ entail?”

His smirk deepened. “A public engagement. A grand display. Cassandra and Grace need to believe this.”

My stomach twisted at the thought, but I nodded. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he echoed. Then, as if it were nothing, he added, “We’ll have an engagement party in three days.”

I froze. “Three days?”

“Is that a problem?”

I wanted to argue, but I knew better. If I hesitated, Grace and Cassandra would tighten their grip on me.

So instead, I met his gaze and said, “No. Let’s do it.”

A flicker of amusement crossed his face. “I admire your determination, Zara. But tell me…” He walked toward me, his voice dropping slightly. “Are you prepared for what comes next?”

I swallowed, but I refused to back down. “I’ve survived worse.”

He tilted his head, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, he reached for my hand, his fingers brushing against the delicate flower ring.

“You should sleep,” he murmured. “Tomorrow, we start preparing for war.”

Evander’s POV

Zara was fascinating.

I watched her disappear into the guest room, her back straight despite the storm I knew raged inside her. She was afraid—but she refused to show it.

I admired that.

Pouring myself another drink, I leaned against the bar, my thoughts tangled. This was supposed to be a game, a transaction of mutual benefit. I had agreed because she intrigued me—because there was something about her fire, her desperation, that made me want to see how far she would go.

But something shifted earlier.

The way she held onto that ridiculous sunflower ring as if it were a lifeline. The way her voice trembled when she whispered about her past. The way she clung to the idea of survival like it was all she had left.

She wasn’t just desperate.

She was broken.

And against my better judgment, I wanted to know what had shattered her.

Taking a slow sip of whiskey, I exhaled deeply.

I had been certain about one thing before tonight. That this arrangement was nothing more than a means to an end.

But now, as I stood alone in the dim light of my penthouse, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

Zara’s POV

The next day,, I woke up to the scent of fresh coffee.

For a moment, I forgot where I was. The bed beneath me was too soft, the sheets too expensive. I blinked against the sunlight filtering through the curtains before reality settled in.

I was in Evander Blackwood’s penthouse and I was about to become his fiancée.

A knock on the door made me sit up. “Zara?”

Evander’s voice was smooth, controlled.

“Come in,” I said hesitantly.

The door opened, and he stepped inside, holding a cup of coffee. He was already dressed in a crisp black suit, his hair slightly damp from a shower.

“You look terrible,” he remarked, setting the cup on the nightstand.

I scowled. “Good morning to you too.”

He smirked. “Drink that. We have a long day ahead.”

I took the coffee, feeling the warmth seep into my fingers. “What’s the plan?”

He leaned against the doorframe, his expression unreadable. “We make our engagement official today. I have a jeweler coming in an hour to pick out a ring. Then, we meet with the press.”

I nearly choked on my coffee. “Today?”

“Do you want this to work or not?”

I inhaled sharply. “Fine.”

“Good.” He turned to leave but paused. “One more thing.”

I glanced at him warily. “What?”

His eyes darkened slightly. “You’re mine now, Zara. If Cassandra or Grace try anything, you come to me.”

I stiffened. “I don’t need your protection.”

His smirk was slow, dangerous. “You might start thinking otherwise, I suppose you know better.”

Then he left, leaving me with nothing but my racing heartbeat and the weight of his words.

____

The next few hours were a blur.

The jeweler arrived, presenting an array of diamond rings so dazzling they almost blinded me. Evander barely looked at them before selecting the most extravagant one—a massive, five-carat emerald-cut diamond surrounded by smaller stones.

I stared at it. “It’s… a bit much.”

He smirked. “It needs to be.”

He slid the ring onto my finger, and just like that, it was official.

By the afternoon, we were standing in front of flashing cameras, our engagement announced to the world.

Evander played his part perfectly—his arm around my waist, his voice smooth as he told the reporters how he had fallen in love with me. And I… I played along, forcing smiles, gripping his hand tightly like I belonged there.

Cassandra was watching.

Grace was watching.

And for the first time, I felt like I had the upper hand.

As we left the press conference, Evander leaned in, his lips brushing my ear.

“You did well.”

I swallowed, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “So did you.”

A slow, knowing smile curved his lips. “Oh, Zara,” he murmured. “You have no idea what you’ve just started.”