‘The Duke of Weister and Miss Barlow… will we hear the bells ringing soon?’
‘The blue diamond worn by Miss Barlow as an engagement ring heralds a great event.’
‘The golden bachelor, the Duke of Weister, has finally found a soulmate. When will the wedding be?’
‘After years of service to his country, the army captain, the Duke of Weister, has decided to take the plunge.’
‘Prime Minister Barlow gives us the happy news that his daughter, Miss Isabel Barlow, said yes to the Duke of Weister’s proposal.’
My face is everywhere. Our faces.
Frozen smiles, perfectly captured moments that now live forever online.
The machine is in motion, and we're strapped in, no brakes.
It’s six p.m. now. In an hour, Nate will pick me up to accompany me to one of Dad’s political events. Another parade, another camera-ready moment, another dance in this beautiful mess we’ve choreographed.
I peer at my phone. I’ve been thinking about it all day. His proposal—not the public one, the private one. The real one of moving together.
And suddenly, my fingers are moving before my mind can catch up.
Me: I miss you. Okay, let’s move in together.
The response is instant.
Nate: Apartment or villa? City or countryside?
I smile, heart thudding in my chest like I’m sixteen and stupid and in love. Which... maybe I am.
Me: Home is where you are.
His reply is slower this time, but when it comes, it melts something deep inside me.
Nate: The best answer you could give me, baby.
I press the phone to my chest for a moment, closing my eyes, breathing him in like he’s already here.
And just like that, this whole thing feels real again.
Maybe it’s all pretend. Maybe there’s still an expiration date.
But right now, in this in-between moment filled with headlines and heartbeats, I think I’m falling for my fake fiancé.
And I’m not sure I want it to end.
The black car rolls to a stop in front of the grand venue, its glass facade glittering like a palace of secrets. Flashbulbs burst the second I step out, catching the shimmer of my midnight blue gown. The satin clings to every curve, soft as a whisper, with a slit that sways dangerously high as I walk. My hair is swept back in a loose updo, a few strands kissing my cheeks. The blue diamond on my finger glints with every graceful movement, screaming taken to the world.
But tonight, I don’t feel taken.
I feel watched. Possessed.
By him.
The moment Nate sees me, something flickers in his eyes—something hungry. For a split second, he looks like a man on the verge of forgetting every plan we made. I smile and take his arm, playing the part of the perfect fiancée, the one who isn't falling too fast for a man she was only meant to pretend with.
Inside, the ballroom is a portrait of luxury. Power practically leaks from the walls. Politicians, diplomats, aristocrats—all masked in civility and expensive cologne.
I slip into the role with ease, exchanging polite smiles, shaking hands, remembering titles. Nate stays close, his hand resting lightly on my lower back.
