Chapter Six: The engagement party

Zara’s POV

The engagement was official. The headlines screamed it, the images were everywhere—Evander, effortlessly composed and dominant, standing beside me, his hand placed firmly on my waist as if I belonged to him. And me, the perfect counterpart, a dazzling smile on my lips, playing my part with the kind of grace and poise the media loved. It looked so real except that it wasn’t .

The ring on my finger was heavier than I expected—not just in weight, but in significance. Every time I looked at it, I was reminded of the game I had chosen to play.

But as I stood in Evander Blackwood’s penthouse the next day, staring at my own reflection, I couldn’t ignore the creeping feeling inside me. Had I just signed away my soul?

I tightened my grip on the bathroom sink, forcing myself to breathe. This is what you wanted. This is what you fought for.

A sharp knock on the door shattered my thoughts.

“Zara.” Evander’s voice was calm, controlled. Always controlled.

I opened the door, meeting his piercing gaze. He was dressed for the evening—black suit, crisp white shirt, looking like he was born to rule.

Oh, scratch that, of course, he was born to rule.

“We’re going out,” he announced.

I frowned. “Out where?”

He smirked. “To celebrate our engagement, of course.”

My stomach twisted. He wasn’t talking about a quiet dinner or a private toast between us. He meant something ‘strategic’, the kind of celebration where the whole city would see. Where Cassandra and Grace would see.

“This was supposed to be till tomorrow, you forgot or what”? , surprise evident on my face.

“There was a change of plan, and there’s no point in waiting”. He said with his usual calmness.

“You planned this without telling me?”

His smirk deepened. “Consider it a lesson, fiancée. You’re in my world now.”

A spark of defiance ignited in me. “And you’re in mine.”

His gaze flickered with something unreadable—respect, amusement, or maybe something darker.

“Get dressed, Zara. We leave in an hour.”

_____

The venue was dripping in wealth—chandeliers spilling golden light across the marble floors, an orchestra playing softly in the background, and guests draped in designer labels.

Evander kept his hand firmly on my lower back as we entered, exuding confidence. I followed his lead, chin high, matching his energy.

Then I saw them.

Cassandra and Grace.

Cassandra stood near the bar, her dress a deep, striking red—fitting for someone who thrived on destruction. Her gaze met mine, and her lips curled into a smirk. Grace was beside her, whispering something that made Cassandra’s smirk widen.

Evander’s fingers pressed lightly against my spine, grounding me.

“Are you ready for this?” he murmured.

I turned to him, expression unreadable. “Watch me.”

He chuckled, low and approving.

For the next hour, I played the role of the perfect fiancée—smiling, laughing at Evander’s perfectly timed remarks, resting my hand on his chest like I belonged there. The photographers ate it up. The guests whispered about us.

But the real storm was brewing just feet away.

_______

Evander and I had just excused ourselves from the investors he introduced me to when we saw Cassandra approached. She must have been waiting for this moment.

“Well, well,” she purred, her voice dripping with her usual fake sweetness. “I must say, Zara, I never took you for the type to settle.”

Evander’s grip on my waist tightened slightly, but I stepped forward, meeting Cassandra’s eyes with unwavering confidence.

“And I never took you for the type to lose.”

Her smirk faltered, just for a second. Grace scoffed beside her.

“Let’s not pretend this little engagement is real,” Cassandra said smoothly. “We all know Evander doesn’t do love. Isn’t that right, darling?” She turned her gaze to him, challenge clear in her eyes.

His fingers skimmed the bare skin of my back as he spoke. “You sound disappointed, Cassandra.”

She let out a soft, elegant laugh. “Not at all. I just find it… amusing.” She shifted her gaze to me, eyes sharp like a blade.

“True, it’s actually funny, considering the fact that until recently, you stuck to his side like a glue. And he’s been doing me just fine, I must have been too important since he broke the rules for me”

Evander chuckled, low and approving, as if truly entertained by my audacity.

But Cassandra wasn’t finished.

“You know what”, She said dryly, “enjoy it while it last, he’ll come back to me though. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind”.

Evander didn’t even blink. Instead, he did something that shocked me.

He slid a hand to my jaw, tilting my face up, and before I could react—he kissed me.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle.

It was claiming.

Possessive.

By the time he pulled away, my pulse was thundering, my breath stolen. And the look in his eyes was a warning.

To them. To me.

Cassandra’s expression was unreadable, but I caught the way her fingers curled into a fist at her side.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Evander,” she said finally, her voice deceptively even.

Evander smiled, the kind of smile that was more threat than warmth. “I always do, enjoy the party”. With that, he led me away from the confrontation, his grip firm but not forceful.

______

I exhaled slowly, trying to steady my heartbeat.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered once we were out of earshot.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he guided me toward a quieter section of the ballroom, away from prying eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, measured.

“You wanted this to look real, didn’t you?”

I clenched my fists. “You didn’t have to—”

“I did,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Cassandra was testing you, testing us. If I had hesitated, she would’ve seen right through you.” Then, as if the conversation no longer required his attention, he turned and blended seamlessly back into the crowd.

____

And I was left standing there, alone, drowning in the aftermath.

I hated that he was right.

I hated that my lips still tingled from his kiss.

I hated that a small part of me had wanted him to do it.

A shiver ran down my spine.

I exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of a nearby table to steady myself. My mind was spinning, but not in the way it should have been. I should have been furious. Instead, all I could think about was the way his lips had felt against mine.

And I knew, that even though I had pretended to hate it, deep down, I loved the feel of his lips against mine even though it was brief.

I squeezed my eyes shut. No. Stop.

This was exactly what I couldn’t allow to happen. This was the kind of weakness that could cost me everything.

It had meant nothing. It was just strategy, just a move on the board. And yet—

I touched my lips absently, as if I could erase the lingering sensation. The problem wasn’t the kiss itself. The problem was my body’s reaction to it, the way my heart had betrayed me, the way my breath had caught in my throat as if some part of me had wanted it.

I hated myself for it.

I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and downed a sip, hoping the sharpness of the bubbles would snap me out of whatever spell I had fallen under.

Across the room, Evander stood effortlessly poised, his expression unreadable as he spoke to a group of men who looked just as powerful as he did.

Untouched. Unaffected.

Meanwhile, I was here, fingers trembling around my glass, still trying to steady my breathing.

Of course, it hadn’t meant anything to him.

That should have been a relief. It was a relief.

Then why did it feel like a loss?

I turned away, forcing my shoulders back, my chin high. I wouldn’t let myself fall into this trap. I had fought too hard to get here, to be more than just another girl tangled in Evander Blackwood’s orbit.

I had won this round.

But if I wasn’t careful, I was going to lose something far more dangerous.

Myself.