"You sure you're ready for this?"
Maverick's voice was low, smooth like velvet and just as dangerous. He stood behind me in the mirror, adjusting the lapel of his charcoal suit while I tried not to stare too long at the man who looked like sin and sophistication wrapped in one.
I was wearing a red satin gown that hugged my body like a second skin—his team's pick, of course. Off-the-shoulder, thigh-high slit, and a plunging neckline that left very little to the imagination. The necklace around my throat was real diamond. Heavy. Like the weight of the lie I was about to step into.
"I signed the contract, didn't I?" I replied, applying the final touch of lipstick before turning to face him.
Maverick's gaze dipped—slow, deliberate—to the curve of my cleavage, then back up to my eyes. "You look the part."
I crossed my arms. "Is that a compliment?"
He smirked. "It's an observation."
Typical.
Twenty minutes later, we stepped out of the car into the flash of paparazzi bulbs and the roar of voices. Reporters called out our names like we were some kind of Hollywood love story.
"Mr. Ryder! Over here!"
"Maverick! Ava! You two are official now?"
I forced a perfect smile and clung to his arm like the devoted fiancée I was pretending to be. Maverick's hand settled firmly on my lower back—possessive, dominant—like he was staking a claim.
We posed.
We smiled.
We played the part.
Every inch of his body was a mask of charm and control, but behind it I could feel the tension between us. It wasn't fake. Not all of it.
At the afterparty, the whispers began.
Who is she?
Isn't she that influencer?
This won't last.
He's never serious.
I heard it all.
But Maverick silenced the room the moment he kissed me.
Right there, in front of everyone, his lips found mine—hot, firm, unrelenting. The kind of kiss that demanded attention. That screamed real, even though it wasn't.
Except…
It felt real.
My heart was racing by the time he pulled back, his hand still around my waist, his eyes daring me to say it hadn't happened.
"You're a fast learner," he whispered, mouth close to my ear.
"You're a good actor," I shot back, but my voice betrayed me. Breathless. Shaken.
He smiled, but it wasn't sweet. It was sharp. A warning.
This wasn't just a fake relationship anymore.
This was a war of control.
And we were both losing.