Chapter 15
Dinner at the Thorne estate was supposed to be one night. Just one harmless evening of pretending. Alicia had walked in thinking she’d play the perfect role, give a few smiles, maybe exchange a few words. But by dessert, she’d already met two aunts, one cousin, and three family friends. Every single one looked at her as if she were already married to Julian Thorne.
She glanced sideways at Julian, who gave her a subtle wink. Her stomach twisted–not from nerves, but from the weight of a lie that seemed to be growing larger by the second.
When one of his relatives leaned forward and cheerfully asked when the wedding would be Alicia choked on her water. Julian smoothly laughed it off, promising details soon, but as the dinner carried on, she could no longer ignore the way the walls were closing in.
Back in Julian’s car after the long evening, she turned to him, eyes wide and arms crossed “Julian,” she said seriously, “that was insane. They’re already planning our wedding!”
Julian sighed, clearly expecting this. “I know. I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”
“Then what the hell was that?”
“I’ll pay you more,” he offered. “Double, even. Triple if you want. You’re good at this–my family adores you, and that’s rare.”
Alicia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Julian, this isn’t a game. You want me to fake being you! girlfriend, now fiancée, and what–pretend to marry you, too?”
Julian shrugged, half–joking. “We could fake that too.”
Alicia stared at him, deadpan.
“…Or we can make a proper contract,” he said more seriously. “Fake engagement, stagec wedding if necessary, I cover all costs and pay you what you need–your art, your life, all of it. You said you needed money.”
She hated how that last part made her pause. He was right.
“I need funding for my gallery exhibits,” she muttered.
“I know. So let me help.”
Eventually, she agreed. With a heavy sigh and the promise that she’d walk away if it became toc
much.
And so, the lie was extended, solidified in ink and contract. Alicia, the fake fiancée of Julian Thorne, England’s most eligible bachelor.
The days that followed were oddly warm. Julian kept his distance in public, yet in private, he was inexplicably sweet.
He brought her hot tea when she was working late. Made sure her workspace in the gallery was perfect. Left notes on her sketchpad with kind words like “You’re brilliant–don’t forget it.”
Sometimes, when she was sketching late into the evening, he’d quietly set a sandwich beside her and say, “Eat before you forget again.”
One afternoon, she came back from the market soaked in rain. Without a word, Julian handed her a fluffy towel, wrapped a second around her shoulders, and said, “Next time, call me. I’ll pick you up.”
2:57 pm DDDD
Alicia smiled softly, unsure what to make of the feeling settling in her chest.
No. She reminded herself. This wasn’t real.
Still, it became harder to remember that each time they shared a laugh.
“Seriously,” Julian said one evening as he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching her make tea, “you’re the only person I know who needs caffeine to sleep.”
She rolled her eyes with a playful smirk. “It’s herbal. You’d know that if you drank anything that wasn’t black coffee and vengeance.”
He laughed, the sound surprisingly boyish, and it made her stomach flutter. “Touché. But I don’t remember hiring someone this snarky.”
“You hired an artist. Sarcasm comes with the palette,” she shot back, nudging his shoulder as she passed him a mug.
He took it, their fingers brushing. His gaze lingered just a second too long. “Thank you, Alicia.”
“Don’t make it weird,” she muttered, sipping her tea.
But it was weird. In the soft kind of way that made her toes curl.
Another time, they were reviewing a gallery list side–by–side on his laptop, their shoulders pressed together. She leaned over to point something out, and her hair fell across his chest. Instead of brushing it away, Julian gently tucked it behind her ear.
Her breath hitched.
“Sorry,” he murmured, his voice low.
“It’s fine,” she said quickly, turning back to the screen. It’s not fine.
She was starting to look forward to mornings. To lunch breaks. To stolen glances across gallery floors. And that terrified her.
Because it wasn’t supposed to be this comfortable. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
This was a contract.
Just a contract. A job. A deal.
Not… this.
Not him.
So every night before she slept, she whispered the same thing to herself like a prayer.
This isn’t real, Alicia. Don’t forget it.
But her heart was starting to doubt what her mind insisted.
And that was dangerous.
One evening, while curled up with a canvas, she received a message that shattered her temporary peace.
It was from Rain.
RAIN: Alicia. He found out. Denver knows I was hiding you. I told him you flew to Japan, but I don’t think he believed me. Buy yourself time. And your mother… she’s looking for you too. Alicia dropped her phone. Her heart thudded in her ears.
