Millionaire Marriage

Public Appearances

Chapter 5: Public Appearances

The evening of the charity gala arrived, and with it, the pressure to maintain the carefully crafted illusion of their marriage. Catherine stood in front of the floor-length mirror in her dressing room, adjusting the straps of her emerald green gown. The dress hugged her frame perfectly, the satin fabric shimmering under the soft light. Her hair was swept into a sophisticated updo, and her makeup had been applied with precision. On the outside, she looked every bit the part of Mrs. Nicholas Welles—elegant, poised, and untouchable.

But inside, her stomach churned with unease.

The portrait of Nicholas's mother still haunted her thoughts. There was something about that painting, something about the intensity in her eyes, that made Catherine feel as though she were being watched, even now. The woman in the portrait had seemed formidable, and Catherine couldn't shake the feeling that there were things about the Welles family that she was only beginning to discover.

"Mrs. Welles," a voice interrupted her thoughts. It was one of the house staff, standing just outside the dressing room door. "Mr. Welles is waiting for you downstairs."

Catherine took a deep breath, giving herself one last look in the mirror. She was ready—or at least she looked ready. Grabbing her clutch, she made her way downstairs to where Nicholas stood, impeccably dressed in a tailored black tuxedo. He was speaking to Henry in hushed tones, but as soon as he saw Catherine, his eyes shifted toward her, dark and unreadable as always.

"You look stunning," he said, his voice formal yet sincere.

"Thank you," Catherine replied, her tone equally polite. She had grown accustomed to these exchanges with Nicholas—careful, controlled, as if they were actors rehearsing a scene.

Nicholas offered his arm, and Catherine took it, feeling the weight of their public appearance settle over her. Tonight, they would be attending one of the most prestigious charity events of the year, hosted by some of the wealthiest families in the city. It was an opportunity for Nicholas to further cement his standing among the elite, and for Catherine, it was yet another reminder of the role she had agreed to play.

As they stepped outside, the night air was crisp, and the driveway was lined with luxury cars. A sleek black limousine waited for them, the driver holding the door open as they approached. Catherine slid inside first, followed by Nicholas, the door closing behind them with a soft thud. The ride to the gala was quiet, the silence between them filled with unspoken thoughts.

Catherine glanced at Nicholas, wondering what was going on in his mind. Did he ever feel the same loneliness she did? Did the weight of their arrangement ever settle on him the way it did on her, or was this simply part of the game for him?

When they arrived at the venue—a sprawling hotel with grand chandeliers and marble floors—Catherine's thoughts were interrupted by the flashing of cameras. Paparazzi lined the entrance, eager to capture every moment of the evening's attendees. Nicholas straightened his jacket and turned to her, his face calm and composed.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low.

Catherine nodded, forcing a smile. "I am."

Together, they stepped out of the car, the flashes blinding as photographers called their names. Catherine slipped into her role seamlessly, offering practiced smiles and gracious waves as they walked toward the entrance. To the outside world, they were the perfect power couple—wealthy, beautiful, and in love.

But inside, Catherine felt the familiar hollowness creeping back in.

Once inside the grand ballroom, the air was filled with the sound of laughter, the clinking of champagne glasses, and the soft hum of live music. The city's elite mingled under the glow of crystal chandeliers, dressed in their finest attire. Catherine scanned the room, recognizing several faces from society magazines and gossip columns. This was the world she now inhabited—a world of wealth, privilege, and endless appearances.

Nicholas led her through the crowd, introducing her to key players in his business and the charity world. His grip on her arm was firm, and his charm was on full display, making polite conversation with everyone they encountered. Catherine played her part perfectly, smiling and laughing at all the right moments, but inside, she felt like a spectator in her own life.

"Ah, Nicholas, my boy!" A booming voice interrupted their conversation, and Catherine turned to see an older man approaching, his face lit with recognition. He was tall, with silver hair and a commanding presence. "It's been too long."

Nicholas's expression brightened slightly as he extended a hand. "Senator Reed, good to see you."

The senator's eyes shifted to Catherine, his gaze appraising. "And this must be your lovely wife."

Catherine offered her hand with a smile. "Catherine Welles, pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," the senator said, taking her hand and giving her a charming smile. "Nicholas, you've certainly made an excellent choice."

Nicholas chuckled softly. "I'm a fortunate man."

The senator continued to make small talk, his tone jovial, but Catherine couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this exchange. Nicholas's demeanor had changed slightly, as if he were more guarded now, more calculating.

As the conversation continued, Catherine excused herself, making her way toward the edge of the room where the large windows offered a view of the city skyline. She needed a moment to breathe, to gather her thoughts. She had expected nights like this when she agreed to marry Nicholas, but the constant performance was exhausting. Everyone here saw her as the glamorous new wife of Nicholas Welles, but none of them knew the truth—that their marriage was nothing more than a carefully constructed façade.

"You seem far away," a voice said from behind her.

Catherine turned to see a woman standing nearby, a glass of champagne in hand. She was elegant, with dark hair pulled back into a sleek bun and a dress that looked like it belonged on a runway. Her smile was warm but curious, as though she had been watching Catherine for some time.

"I'm just taking it all in," Catherine replied with a soft smile, though she could tell the woman wasn't fooled.

"I'm Sophie, by the way," the woman said, extending her hand. "Sophie Davenport."

Catherine recognized the name immediately. The Davenports were one of the wealthiest families in the city, known for their real estate empire and their connections to high society. Sophie was one of their most prominent socialites, always seen at events like these.

"Catherine Welles," she replied, shaking Sophie's hand.

"I know," Sophie said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Everyone knows who you are now. You've caused quite a stir since the wedding."

Catherine felt a flush rise to her cheeks, unsure of how to respond.

"Don't worry," Sophie added, taking a sip of her champagne. "You'll get used to it. In this world, everything is about appearances."

Catherine nodded, though Sophie's words lingered. Appearances. That's all this was—her marriage, these events, this entire world. A carefully constructed image meant to project wealth, power, and success.

As she stood there, watching the glittering crowd, Catherine realized that she wasn't the only one trapped in this web of appearances. Everyone here was playing a role, just like her. The only difference was that some of them had been playing the game far longer.

And as the night wore on, Catherine couldn't help but wonder how long she could keep playing her part before the cracks in the façade began to show.