Chapter 2

Fake Becomes Personal

I stood in the middle of Damien’s penthouse living room feeling like a doll being dressed for display. The gown he’d chosen clung to every curve deep emerald silk that shimmered under the lights. Expensive. Too expensive. I hated how perfectly it fit.

“Stop fidgeting,” Damien said, voice flat as he adjusted his cufflinks. He looked devastating in a black tuxedo, all sharp lines and controlled power. “You agreed to this. Act like it.”

“I agreed to save my mother,” I shot back. “Not to let you parade me around like arm candy.”

He stepped closer, eyes scanning me from head to toe with clinical...