Chapter 3 Chapter Three

The Next Day.

The air in my apartment felt too thin. I sucked in a sharp breath, my lungs burning as I paced the length of my living room until my feet ached. My phone sat on the coffee table, vibrating so violently from notifications that it was practically dancing off the edge.

I didn't pick it up. I couldn't. Instead, I stared at the television screen, where the nightmare was playing in high definition.

The news had broken three hours ago, and the internet was currently melting down. I hadn't left my apartment since last night, I stayed locked inside hoping that it was all a dream, but it wasnt.

On screen, Roan was swarmed. Reporters looked like a pack of starved wolves, shoving microphones into his face, their voices a disoriented roar as they screamed the same name over and over: Zia West.

"Mr Vance! Are the rumors true? Are you and the youngest West daughter actually a couple?"

Roan stopped. He didn't look at the reporter. He titled his head, his gaze boring into the camera lens with a cold, piercing intensity. For a heartbeat, my pulse stopped. It felt like he was looking through the screen, straight into my soul, checking to see if I was already failing the lie.

A slow, predatory smile ghosted over his lips. He leaned down towards the nearest microphone.

"Yes." He simply said. He didn't even elaborate, he didn't spare them a story. He just turned and walked away, his wall of black suited bodyguards cutting off the chaos behind him.

"Fuck!" I yelled, snatching the remote pressing the off button. The screen went black, but the image of that smile burned deep in my mind.

The bet was officially live.

-

It was almost time for the gala, I stood in front of my full length mirror, trying to convince myself I looked like a woman who had life under control. I'd chosen an emerald green silk gown, a darling choice with a slit that traveled dangerously high up my thigh. It was elegant, the kind of dress that screamed old money even if my bank account was currently whispering help me.

I had just finished pinning the last stray hair into a sleek updo when I heard the heavy thud of my front door swinging open.

I froze, then marched toward the kitchen for a glass of water, my heels clicking sharply on the hardwood. "I understand you own this building, Roan, but you could at least knock." I snapped.

He was leaking against the kitchen island. He didn't apologize, he didn't even blink. His grey eyes traveled down my body, lingering on the high slit of the green dress with an expression that wasn't quite approval, but wasn't quite hate either.

He reached out, tossing a heavy designer bag onto the counter. "Change," he commanded in a deep tone. "Into this. It fits the narrative better."

My temper flared. I wanted to tell him to shove his narrative, but the memory of his threat tightened around my throat. I swallowed hard, took the bag and nodded. "Give me some moments."

After all, I did ask for this by messing around with his name.

Back in my room, when I pulled the garment out, a gasp escaped my lips. It was a diamond encrusted floor length gown, so heavy with jewels it felt like armor. I gently slipped it on, the cool fabric hugging every curve like a second skin. This single dress probably cost more than five years of my rent. I reached back to pull up the zipper, but it hit a snag halfway up. I pulled and pulled but it didn't budge.

"Shit!" I hissed as the fabric bit into my skin.

At this point I have no other choice. I winced mentally to myself as I pulled my bedroom door open. Roan was now leaning against the hallway wall, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. He tilted his head as I appeared, the smoke curling around him. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, my breath seized. I hadn't really taken a good look at him until now. He looked devastating - a black on black tuxedo that made his grey eyes look like polished flint, his hair was swept back leaving only few strands to fall over his forehead.

"I need help."

He didn't say a word, he simply pushed off the wall and walked towards me, his presence taking up every inch of the hallway.

"Turn around."

I obeyed, my back now to him. I felt the heat of his body even before I felt his touch. His fingers were cool as they brushed against the nape of my neck, sending a violent shiver down my spine. He moved the zipper up with a slow, agonizing precision. Just as it reached the top, his thumb lingered for a fraction of a second in my bare. Suddenly, he withdrew his hand as if he'd been burned.

"Are you ready?" He asked in a low tone that was stripped of any emotion.

"Yes," I swallowed thickly, trying to find my voice. "I'm ready."

After I picked up my phone and purse, we left the apartment and headed downstairs. When the elevator doors opened to the lobby. I stopped dead in my tracks. Parked at the curb was a sleek, matte black Rolls Royce Phantom, looking like a shark waiting for it's prey.

I've been around riches all my life, but this is on a different level entirely.

The drive to the gala was a blur of silence and tension. Roan didn't even breath a word out neither did I.

When the car pulled up to the red carpet, the world turned white. Camera flashes went off like staccato gunfire.

Roan stepped out first, then reached back for my hand. As I stepped out, he slid his arm around my waist, his grip tightening until I was flushed against his side.

"Remember your role." He whispered against my ear, his breath hot against my skin sending shivers down my spine.

I nodded slowly as my eyes scanned the crowd. At the top of the stairs, Julian and Verena stood.

My sister's face was a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. Her eyes were wide, her mouth slightly agape as she stared at Roan's hand on my waist. Beside her, Julian looked like he'd been hit by a train. He looked utterly shocked, his gaze darting between me and his brother who was currently holding me like a prize.

Verena didn't wait. She grabbed Julian's arm roughly and dragged him inside the doors as the reporters began to swarm around us. I watched as they both disappeared through the crowd and for some odd reasons, despite my satisfaction, I felt odd.

Inside, the gala was a sea of gold and champagne. We were immediately intercepted by Roan's father, who looked uncharacteristically smug. No doubt, he is Roan's and Julian's father. Roan inherited his dangerous side, while Julian inherited his softer features.

"Ah Zia!" He exclaimed as he stretched out his hand towards me. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise sir-," I stammered as I shook his hand. "I mean Mr Eric Vane." I chuckled nervously as I corrected myself.

He laughed and shook his head as he withdrew his hand back. "Please, just call me Eric. You're like a family now." He turned his gaze to Roan who was just staring at him blankly. As Eric's lips parted, my own parents appeared. My father's jaw was set, and my mother looked like she was about to faint.

"Mr Eric," my father greeted, clearing his throat as he stretched toward Eric who shook it gently.

"Mr West. A pleasure."

"Likewise."

Eric's head tilted to the other side. "Mrs. West. A pleasure."

"Same." My mother said swiftly, her eyes still locked on me and Roan.

Just when I thought the tension couldn't get any worse, Roan cleared his throat. "Excuse us." He said smoothly, guiding me towards the bar before they could protest. He signaled the bartender and handed me a drink. I gulped the amber liquid immediately, the burn in my throat matching the fire in my chest.

I really didn't think this through, I thought to myself. But for now, it's worth it I guess.

"Why didn't you talk to my parents?" I blurted out before I could stop myself, I lowered my gaze when his eyes fell on me. "Sorry."

"I have nothing to say to them yet- not until the big announcement."

I arched a brow in confusion. "What announcement? What's going on?"

"Stay here," he murmured, his eyes scanning the room. "I need to handle something first."

The second he vanished into the crowd, the air shifted. I felt her presence before I saw her.

"You fucking bitch!"

I turned slowly, letting out a deep breath. Verena was standing just where Roan was, her face trembling with fury.

"Don't disgrace yourself, Verena," I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite the turmoil inside me. "We are in public,"

"I have no idea what you did to get his attention, but you won't take the light away from me!" She hissed, stepped closer until the air was filled with her perfume and anger.

"That's the point, Verena," I replied, looking her dead in the eye. "I was never in a competition with you. I loved you. I looked you to you as a sister. But all you ever saw was a competitior and that's all on you."

A slight movement behind her caught my eye, it was Julian. He was walking towards us, his expression unreadable. He reached out, wrapping his hand firmly around Verena's waist.

"Let's go, there are people and cameras here. She's not worth causing a scene for." He said, making her calm down slowly. He didn't even look at me, didn't spare a glance at the girl he'd promised forever to just months.

It was like I was invisible to him.

Verena let out a deep breath, nodded and turned around, following him. The air finally left my lungs as they walked away without a single glance. It felt like a physical blow, more painful than any insult Verena could hurl. I couldn't stay here any longer, I needed to breath. Pushing through the suffocating crowd, dodging everyone that looked familiar to avoid questions, I finally stumbled out the back exit into the humid night air.

The silence hit me like a wall. I slumped against the cold stone of the building, my knees buckling as the first sob broke through. I cried for the sister I'd lost, the man who had forgotten me, and the dangerous game I was playing with a devil.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel. I spun around, wiping my eyes as the dim security light shifted.

"Roan? What are you doing here?"

"I was wondering why you ran off," he said, his voice terrifying calm as he stepped closer. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I lied, sniffling as I tried to regain my pride. "Let's just go back inside."

He tilted his head, a wicked jagged grin cutting across his face. "Actually, it can wait."

Before I could process his words, he moved, stepping into my space and pulled me into a tight, almost tender hug. For a heartbeat, I thought he was offering comfort. Then came the cold, sharp bloom of agony in my stomach.

I gasped, my breath hitching as the world began to tilt. He pulled the knife back, making me hit the ground, the rough concrete biting into my skin. "W-why?" I tried to speak, but blood hurled up as the words tried to leave my lips. My vision blurred, but I could still see him. Above me, Roan stood, he didn't looked angry, he looked satisfied.

He pulled a white silk handkerchief from his pocket and began cleaning the blood off the blade. "I told you Zia. I had a very big announcement to make.”