Rob B. Illion

My mother turned her bright, unbothered smile on me.

"Rob! You're back early!" she cooed. "Couldn't stand to be apart from your fiancée, hmm?"

I sighed, my patience wearing thin.

"Aren't you meant to be in Italy?"

"Oh, we just had to meet Beth!" She grinned like she'd won some invisible victory. "You've been hiding her from us all this time."

Claire leaned back in her chair, the smirk on her lips as sharp as ever, her short black hair falling in a messy wave over her shoulder.

"And someone had to make sure you weren't scaring her off with all your weird rules."

Miss Corday glanced at me over the rim of her coffee mug. It might've been the first time she looked at me since we returned from that trip. Meanwhile, my mother and Claire giggled, as if they were already in on some private joke at my expense.

"I see..." I said, forcing calm into my voice as I turned to the kitchen, pretending I didn't notice their amusement.

I took my time pouring myself orange juice. Their conversation drifted in from the living room, and though I tried to focus on the mundane task, I couldn't help but listen.

"Oh, now, where were we?" Mother asked, a thoughtful lilt in her voice. "Ah yes, Rob's always been like this. Born a little adult, really. I still have no idea where he gets it from."

Miss Corday's chuckle broke through.

"Surely, it couldn't have always been the case?"

Claire laughed at that.

"Mom, tell her his first word. She won't guess it."

"What? What is it?"

I rolled my eyes at what was coming.

"I was so worried at first," Mother gushed. "He hadn't even made any sounds as a baby. Not at all. Then, suddenly, on his first birthday he said his first word. 'Detergent'."

"What?" Miss Corday asked. "That's... not possible."

"No, no, it's true," Mother sighed again, as if recounting a fond memory. "And then, after that, the walking. Rob never crawled, of course. Thought it was beneath him, I suppose. He just started walking one day, like it was a calculated decision he'd made."

I could feel Miss Corday's gaze on me, speculative and uncomfortably piercing.

"I had my theories," she said slowly, as if testing the waters. "But I didn't expect it to be... quite this weird."

"And that's not even the half of it," Claire interrupted, her grin widening. "When he was ten, Rob actually wrote a letter to the school principal because he thought the lunchroom wasn't following proper sanitation protocols." She let out a laugh, like she'd just unearthed a treasure. "I'm pretty sure they framed it!"

Miss Corday's eyes lit up with genuine amusement.

"You really did that?" she grinned at me as I walked over.

"He did," Mother confirmed. "We've never let him forget it. But those school years... Ah, they were so brief. He skipped so many grades. Graduated from high school at thirteen. Never really made any friends either."

I glanced at Miss Corday, trying to gauge her reaction, but she wasn't looking at me anymore. She was staring at the floor, fidgeting with her coffee cup.

"That's... lonely," she said softly.

"There was that one time he had a pet," Claire added, glancing my way as I seated myself beside Miss Corday. "What was its name again?"

I took a slow sip of my drink.

"It didn't have a name."

"That's right!" Claire laughed again, a brittle sound. "We all called it Anonymouse because it never had a name."

"Poor thing ran away, didn't it?" Mom chuckled faintly. "Rob never had another pet after that."

Miss Corday raised an eyebrow, studying me, a silent question in her gaze.

"I'm surprised he had one in the first place," she said.

I smirked, my eyes locking on her choker.

"Oh, I still indulge the idea," I teased.

She furrowed her brow, clearly catching the hint in my tone.

"So," Mother interrupted our silent argument, "how did the two of you meet?"

The question hit me unexpectedly. My mind scrambled for an answer. I had always found it incredibly uncomfortable lying to my family and had no idea how to cover this one up.

To my surprise, Miss Corday took over. She crossed her legs with practiced ease, smiling brightly, her words smooth and rehearsed.

"Oh, it's such a funny story," she began. "We met at one of his work gatherings. I ran into him by accident when he got out of the elevator. I just fell. And he stood there, staring at me like I was some kind of joke. I thought he was the rudest man I'd ever met!"

My mother perked up immediately, eyes wide.

"Really? I always raised Rob to be a gentleman."

Miss Corday's smile didn't falter, and she continued spinning her version of the truth, carefully leaving out the parts where I had done everything to ensure she stayed exactly where I needed her. I watched her as she crafted the story, captivated by her poise, her ability to lie so effortlessly.

I couldn't stop watching her...

And the more I did, the more unsettled I became.

"Our first dinner date was such a disaster!" she giggled, the sound light and somehow nostalgic. "I had to cut his food up like he was a baby just to get him to eat it!"

Mother burst into laughter.

"How had I never thought of that!"

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the scene as Miss Corday wove the story of our so-called relationship with ease. It was too perfect, too seamless. And somehow, it was believable. My mother and Claire were eating it up, laughing, nodding in delight like it was the most endearing thing they'd ever heard.

"You're brave," Claire leaned forward. "Teasing him so much? Most people would run the other way."

Miss Corday's smile deepened and with the way the afternoon light shone in through the large windows, she felt like summer.

"What can I say? I guess I've always been a little stubborn myself."

While staring at her getting along with my family so well, I couldn't miss the opportunity being presented here. Miss Corday was in a good mood and clearly enjoying the moment.

"Actually," I cut into their laughter, "Claire, I was hoping you could help Doris with something."

Miss Corday's head snapped toward me, her smile faltering as suspicion flickered in her eyes.

"Help me with what?"

I met her gaze and couldn't help the smirk.

"The gala," I said, knowing exactly how this would unfold. "I want you to have something perfect to wear. This will be our first formal appearance as a couple, after all. And Claire—" I looked at my sister, "—has impeccable taste."

"Oh my God!" Claire gasped, her face lighting up. "Are you serious? I would love to help! Beth, we'll find you something stunning. Something that'll knock everyone's socks off."

Miss Corday's eyes narrowed while the grip on her coffee mug tightened.

"That's... very thoughtful of you," she said, her words clearly restrained. "But I think I can manage on my—"

"Nonsense," Mother interrupted, clearly delighted with the idea. "Claire knows all the best designers. You're going to look incredible."

Miss Corday's reluctance was obvious, but with both my mother and sister gushing over the plan, she was cornered. Her shoulders stiffened, and her smile tightened.

"Well," she said, her voice strained but polite, "I suppose I can't say no to such enthusiastic help."

I allowed the smallest of smiles to play on my lips, pleased with the way things were unfolding.

"Perfect!" Claire clapped her hands together. "We'll go tomorrow. First thing. You have no idea how much fun we're going to have."

Miss Corday's eyes darted to mine, a flash of irritation crossing her features before she masked it with another smile. I met her gaze, feeling a surge of satisfaction in my chest.

Apologies, Miss Corday, I grinned. This round is mine.

***

As my mother and sister picked my thief up for their shopping adventure the next day, the penthouse felt blissfully quieter. I retreated to my office, settling into the comfortable familiarity of work.

Hours later, Coy knocked lightly before stepping inside, his usual brisk demeanor accompanied by the faintest hint of a smile.

"Preparations for the gala next week are proceeding as planned," he said, handing me a folder. "The venue will be Alistair's Four Suits Hotel, and I already have people looking into the security procedures there. Your tux should also be ready in time."

"Good," I replied, flipping through the contents of the folder. "Anything else?"

Coy lingered for a moment, his sharp gaze roaming over my desk.

"That's all for the gala. As for the media, you and Miss Corday are featured in most articles this week with reporters trying desperately to dig up anything from her past. Of course, I've already put measures in place to keep all that hidden and," he paused as something on my desk caught his eye. "What is that?"

I looked over at the figurine perched next to my laptop — the tiny surfing mouse Miss Corday had teased me about on the business trip.

"It's a desk ornament, Coy."

His lips twitched with suppressed amusement.

"Miss Corday wouldn't be involved in the story behind this... joyful rodent." He mused as he studied it more closely. He adjusted his glasses as he got a proper look. "What is wrong with its face?"

"Let's focus on the gala," I sighed.

Coy raised a brow, but he didn't press further.

The following week passed in a blur of work for me and multiple shopping trips for my family and Miss Corday. While I buried myself in contracts and meetings, my mother and sister were thoroughly occupied with dragging my 'fiancée' around the city. They sent occasional updates — pictures of boutiques, suggestions for accessories. But I kept my distance, while my security team kept an eye.

Miss Corday, for her part, seemed to tolerate the situation with a kind of resigned grace. She didn't fight my family's enthusiasm, though I could tell it drained her. Occasionally, I'd catch a glimpse of her in the photos Claire sent, her smile faint but genuine, and I'd feel the strangest unfamiliar tug.

By the time that Friday, the night of Alistair's gala, finally arrived, I had no sense of my thoughts at all anymore.

The clock struck six, and I adjusted the cuffs of my black tux for what felt like the hundredth time. The fabric was perfect, tailored to precision, but I couldn't stop feeling slightly out of place. I retrieved the Cronos from my waistcoat and rubbed my gloved thumb over its smooth surface.

The familiar ticking filled the room as I glanced at the intricate face.

Time, the ever-unforgiving dictator...

I thought back to the night I first encountered Miss Corday as she stole my watch. I hated how I still struggled to recall her face from that moment. But I doubted such a situation would ever come again.

I couldn't imagine forgetting her any time soon.

I snapped the watch shut with a sharp click, my jaw tightening at the thought.

Feelings, if that's what they were, had no place in this arrangement. I wouldn't entertain them. Couldn't. Miss Corday was a part of a necessary transaction, not... whatever this gnawing sensation in my chest was.

I headed down to the lobby just as a familiar limousine pulled up. Steeling myself for the evening ahead, I approached the vehicle with a casual air.

But nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me...

A woman stepped out of the car, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt.

She wore a black gown that shimmered like the night sky, glittering with stars that seemed to dance as she moved. The neckline dipped elegantly, framing her collarbone, and the fabric clung to her figure in a way that was both graceful and breathtaking. Black ballroom gloves extended up her arms, stopping just by her elbows. And her hair had been dyed at the ends, which made her soft waves fade into a light tone.

She looked... breathtaking.

The woman smiled at me, tugging at her glove as her green eyes struggled to keep my gaze.

"What is it?" Miss Corday scoffed. "Am I not up to standard?"

The vulnerability in her eyes struck a chord I hadn't expected.

My throat felt dry as I approached, my steps slower than usual. I fought the urge to stare, knowing full well I was failing miserably.

"You're perfect..."

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I saw her eyes widen briefly in surprise. I cleared my throat, adjusting my tie to cover the awkward moment.

"And here I thought I'd never see that look on my son."

I turned just as Mother and Claire approached us, both looking too smug with themselves.

"I was a bit doubtful of this whole engagement," Claire admitted with a shrug. "It sounded more like something my brother would scheme than actually pursue. But..." She smiled at me, a genuine, unconditional smile. "I'm glad it's real."

A stone settled in my throat as I struggled to return my sister's smile.

I had always hated deceiving my family... They didn't even know about all the illegal matters I was in... And yet, this here...

This lie was one I knew I would regret the most.

"We should go now," I said, offering Miss Corday my arm.

She went to hug my mother and sister first before accepting my offer.

"Thank you for all the help," she smiled.

"It's no problem my dear," Mother grinned at her. "Don't break my boy's heart now," she teased. "It's rather fragile if you get past the walls and sanitizers."

Miss Corday nodded hesitantly before we walked toward the limo.

I looked down at her, at how close she was to me, and realized that not once had I ever felt uncomfortable around her. The only reason she had managed to push me at all was because I had let her get close enough to do so. To touch.

I'd never been affected like this by anyone before because I hadn't allowed them to.

The truth of our situation suddenly dawned on me.

Was Miss Corday still only a pawn?

No...

Somewhere along the line, Miss Corday had become more than just an arrangement. More than an asset in my carefully controlled game.

And I had no idea what to do about it.

Should I get rid of these thoughts? Or see where they lead me?

Before we could step into the limo, I hesitated, turning to face Miss Corday fully. She tilted her head, curious, and I could tell my pause had caught her off guard.

"I almost forgot," I said, reaching into the inner pocket of my coat. I withdrew a sleek velvet box.

Her brows knitted in confusion.

"What's this?"

"A gift," I said simply, stepping closer. "Turn around."

She hesitated, glancing briefly at my mother and Claire, before obeying. She turned, and I opened the box, revealing the necklace inside. The diamonds sparkled in the low light, catching the faint silver trim of the clasp. It wasn't ostentatious — it was understated and graceful, a perfect complement to the black choker already around her neck.

I reached forward, carefully draping the necklace around her throat. My fingers brushed her skin as I secured the clasp, and I felt her shiver slightly.

"It suits you," I said softly, stepping back to admire how the necklace framed her collarbone, the glittering diamonds like stars.

Miss Corday turned back to face me, her expression unreadable for a moment before her lips curved into a small, tentative smile.

"Thank you, Mister— Thank you, Rob. It's... beautiful."

"You're welcome."

The drive started in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. Miss Corday sat primly, her hands folded in her lap, but I could see the way her fingers nervously fidgeted with the fabric of her gloves. I shifted in my seat, a strange weight settling in my chest.

"So," I started, trying to break the tension. "The salon trip went well?"

She glanced at me, her lips twitching into something between a smile and a grimace.

"If by 'well,' you mean having your sister insist on trying five different hairstyles, then yes."

I chuckled.

"That sounds like Claire... She works hard, but still enjoys indulgence."

Miss Corday's humor faded as we approached the hotel. Through the tinted windows, the gleaming line of luxury cars and photographers came into view. The grandeur of Alistair's gala unfolded in all its intimidating splendor — crystal chandeliers visible through the towering windows, uniformed staff ushering guests up the red carpet.

She shifted uneasily.

"Rob... I don't know if I can do this. I'm really... scared."

Her voice was softer than usual, tinged with a vulnerability I wasn't accustomed to hearing from her. I turned to her fully, noting the way her eyes darted to the imposing entrance.

The admission hit me harder than I expected, and for the first time, guilt pierced through the walls I'd carefully constructed.

I leaned forward, lowering my voice.

"Miss Corday... I'll be right by your side the entire time," I assured her. "I promise. No one will hurt you. I'll keep you safe."

Her lips parted slightly, as if my words had surprised her.

"You really promise?" she asked.

"I do," I said firmly.

And for the first time, I meant it.