Chapter 4: The Serpent's Smile

The private jet hummed with a quiet, opulent menace. I pressed my nose to the window, watching the city shrink to a glittering smear of lights. Two hours. That's all I'd had to pack a single bag, say goodbye to my cramped apartment, and accept that my life now belonged to Adrian Blackwood. The man whose contract I'd signed was now a tyrant with a shared living space.

"The resort is in the Catskills," Adrian said, not looking up from his tablet. "A three-day retreat for the top players in the industry. Think of it as a stage. We are the performance."

I smoothed the hem of the burgundy sheath dress he'd had delivered to my apartment—one of many items that had arrived with military precision. "And what's my role? Arm candy with a law degree?"

He finally glanced at me, a flicker of amusement in his steel-gray eyes. "You're the woman who tamed the beast. That's the story. The board is skeptical of my 'sudden change of heart.' Your presence reassures them I'm not a complete robot." A ghost of a smile. "It's a lie, but a profitable one."

The retreat was a sprawling, timbered behemoth nestled in the mountains, all roaring fireplaces and crystal chandeliers. The air smelled of pine and expensive cologne. I stuck to Adrian's side like a well-trained shadow, my hand in his, my smile perfectly calibrated. I was good at this. Pretending was my specialty.

Then I saw him.

Marcus Thorne. He was the antithesis of Adrian—all easy charm and sun-kissed hair, with a smile that was a little too wide. He was also Adrian's biggest rival, a fact I knew from the company's files. He approached us during the welcome cocktail hour, a glass of scotch in his hand.

"Adrian, old friend," Marcus drawled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Never thought I'd see the day. A ring on your finger and a leash around your neck." His eyes slid to me, and I felt a prickle of unease. "And this must be the lucky girl."

I offered my hand. "Chloe. It's a pleasure."

He took it, his grip lingering a second too long. "The pleasure is all mine, Chloe. I've heard… so much about you." The emphasis on 'so much' was deliberate. My stomach tightened. He knew. The question was, how much?

Adrian's arm snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him. "Chloe's a private person, Marcus. Let's keep it that way."

Marcus laughed, a sound like shattering glass. "Of course, of course. So private, in fact, that I was surprised to hear about the engagement. I mean, it was so… sudden." He tilted his head, a vulture eyeing a carcass. "Almost as if it were a business arrangement."

The air crackled. Adrian's grip on my waist turned to steel. I could feel the fury radiating off him, a prelude to a storm. This was a test. Not just for Adrian, but for me. I had to be the dam that held back the flood.

I laughed, a light, tinkling sound that surprised even me. I leaned into Adrian, placing a hand on his chest, feeling his heart hammer against my palm. "Oh, Marcus, you cynic." I winked. "You sound like my father. He thought Adrian was only marrying me for my family's 'connections' too." It was a bluff, a wild card. I had no family connections. But Marcus didn't know that.

I turned to Adrian, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, just loud enough for Marcus to hear. "He's just jealous, darling. Because you got both a business empire and a beautiful woman, while he has to rent his dates for the evening."

Marcus's smile finally faltered. A flash of genuine anger lit his eyes before he masked it. "Careful, sweetheart. You're playing in the big leagues now."

I met his gaze, my smile never wavering. "And you're playing with the wrong team. Adrian and I are a package deal. You insult him, you insult me. And I don't take insults lightly." I turned my back on him, a clear dismissal, and pressed a kiss to Adrian's jaw. "Dance with me, darling. I'm tired of small talk."

Adrian didn't move for a solid three seconds. Then, his hand slid from my waist and he took my hand, leading me to the dance floor. He pulled me close, his face an unreadable mask.

"That was a dangerous gamble," he murmured against my ear, his breath warm on my skin.

"He called you old," I shot back, my heart still racing. "I couldn't let that stand."

He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching mine. "You defended me."

"Don't get used to it," I said, but my voice was softer than I intended. "It was a one-time deal to save our collective asses."

He pulled me tighter, his hand splaying on my lower back. "Well, Chloe. You just made an enemy of Marcus Thorne. He doesn't forget a slight." A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips. "But I have to admit, you're more fun than I expected."

The song ended, and a new, slower one began. He didn't let me go. I was trapped in his arms, the scent of his cologne clouding my senses.

"Your first performance as Mrs. Blackwood was a success," he said, his voice a low rumble. "But the night is young. And Marcus is just the opening act."

Before I could ask what he meant, he spun me, and I caught a glimpse over his shoulder. Marcus was standing by the bar, his phone in his hand, talking to someone. He was looking directly at me. And he was smiling. It was a smile that promised retribution.

I had a sinking feeling my defense of Adrian had just lit a fuse that was about to blow our entire fake world to smithereens. The game had just gotten a whole lot deadlier.