: A KISS WE DIDN’T MEAN

Althea’s POV

I used to believe betrayal came with warning signs.

A shift in the air. A pause in a conversation. A gut feeling that something wasn’t right.

But betrayal doesn't always scream. Sometimes, it’s quiet. Like the way Damian looked at me during our wedding. Calm. Cold. Calculated.

Like he already knew how the story would end.

And now? I was standing in a designer dress on the marble staircase of his mansion, pretending to be his perfect wife while paparazzi swarmed the gates outside. I hated this. I hated him.

“Smile,” he whispered through his clenched teeth, wrapping an arm around my waist as we walked toward the waiting press. “You’re madly in love, remember?”

“Don’t touch me,” I hissed back.

“Too late,” he replied with that infuriating smirk. “They’re already taking pictures.”

And just like that, he pulled me closer—too close—and dipped his head low enough for the cameras to catch a moment they’d label passionate.

His lips brushed mine.

It was soft. Too soft.

Not like revenge. Not like hate.

It was... a kiss.

And for a split second, I forgot to breathe.

I pushed him away before I could process what just happened, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “If you ever do that again—”

“What?” he interrupted, voice calm, unreadable. “Kiss my wife in public?”

“You don’t get to call me that,” I snapped.

“But I did marry you,” he said, stepping closer. “You said ‘I do,’ remember?”

“I also said I hate you.”

He tilted his head. “Funny. You didn’t sound like it a second ago.”

My palm itched to slap him, but I forced my hands to stay at my sides. The cameras were still clicking. Smiles had to be painted on. Lies had to be rehearsed.

This marriage wasn’t just business—it was a performance.

But what no one knew was that backstage, everything was burning.

---

Damian’s POV

She flinched when I kissed her.

Good. She should. Because nothing about this was safe.

Especially not her.

I had enemies watching from the shadows. Althea might have walked into my world as a pawn, but now she was the only leverage I had to keep both our companies alive. If anything happened to her under my watch, it would be more than a scandal—it would be blood.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown Number:

> You looked happy today. She fits beside you better than your last one.

I stared at the message, my pulse tightening.

Althea hadn’t seen it. Good. She didn’t need to.

I deleted the text and shoved the phone into my pocket.

But as we walked back inside the mansion, I felt her hand brush mine by accident. She pulled it away like I’d burned her.

“You’re not safe here,” I said under my breath.

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a warning.”

She scoffed. “I’m not afraid of you, Damian.”

“You should be,” I replied. “But not for the reason you think.”