Faking Fate [Book 1]

Chapter Seventeen: Wedding Plan

I hadn't left the house in days. Not because I was scared, but because stepping outside felt like walking into a lion's den—with the lions armed with cameras and the sharpest questions they could throw at me. The media circus had died down a little since Alexander's team released a few press statements, but a few brave souls still lingered, hoping to catch me slipping. Unfortunately for them, I didn't plan on giving them the satisfaction.

I glanced out the window, sighing at the sight of yet another reporter pacing outside like he had nothing better to do. I shook my head. Of course, I had called the police. Who wouldn't want an impromptu photoshoot with some handcuffs in the background?

Not that staying inside was much better. The walls of my house was starting to close in on me, each day blending into the next in a haze of awkward silences and a tension that was becoming harder to ignore. The scandal hadn't exactly helped things between us—though, if I were being honest, I wasn't sure anything could.

As if on cue, my phone rang, snapping me out of my spiral. I glanced at the screen and saw the familiar name: Samantha, Alexander's secretary.

Great, I thought, swiping to answer. This couldn't be good.

"Hello, Samantha," I greeted, trying to sound more enthusiastic than I felt.

"Good afternoon, Ms. James. I wanted to inform you that a meeting has been arranged with a wedding planner for today at 15:00. We'll be discussing venues, food, music... all the details that will need to be finalized soon."

Wedding planner? I blinked, processing her words. A meeting to discuss all the details for a wedding I wasn't even sure should happen. Perfect. Just what I needed to lift my spirits today—planning a fake wedding while the world still debated whether I was the conniving gold-digger the tabloids made me out to be.

I swallowed back a groan. "Perfect. And... will Alexander be there?" My voice came out flat, betraying the dread bubbling inside me.

There was a pause on the other end, and I could practically hear her professionalism kick in, as if she were trying to choose the most neutral response possible. "Yes, he will be attending. It's important for both of you to be present for these decisions."

Right. Decisions. Like which lie we'd choose next.

I rubbed my temples. "Okay. I'll be there."

I hung up before she could offer any more fake pleasantries and threw my phone onto the couch beside me. The dread that had been lingering all morning settled like a weight in my chest. I hadn't spoken to Alexander much since the scandal. Sure, we saw each other in passing, exchanged a few words when necessary, but the tension between us was palpable.

And now I had to spend hours sitting in a room with him, pretending we were some happy couple planning the most important day of our lives. A day that, in reality, would be just another performance in the carefully crafted illusion we'd created.

I stared at the ceiling, wondering how much longer I could keep this up. I was good at pretending—had been for a while now—but every day it felt like the line between reality and the lie we were living blurred just a little more.

***

The city buzzed around me as I stepped out of the car and into the entrance of Alexander's office building. My palms were slick with sweat, and I had to fight the urge to turn around and walk right back out the door. It wasn't the media hounds I was avoiding this time—it was him.

The elevator ride up was too fast and too slow all at once. Each floor that ticked by made my stomach twist tighter, like a knot that refused to unravel. My reflection stared back at me in the mirrored walls, and I couldn't help but frown. The fake smile I'd plastered on my face faltered, so I forced it back into place.