Just Once

Chapter 19-Sofia

The morning light spilled through the windows, illuminating the sleek lines of my hotel suite. I stood at the edge of the bed, staring at the dress laid out before me. It was elegant, commanding, the kind of outfit that whispered power without needing to shout.

I hated it.

Not because it wasn't beautiful—it was. But because of what it represented. Tonight, I wasn't just Sofia Volkov, CEO of Volkov Industries. I was part of a fabricated power couple, a performance meant to gain us entry into Marcus Lang's auction.

A performance with Zayden Meadows as my other half.

I clenched my fists, trying to push away the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. This was the plan. It was the only way to get close to Lang, to uncover what he knew about The Society.

But that didn't make it any easier to stomach.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I straightened, slipping back into my armor, and opened the door to find Victor standing there, his expression grim.

"Everything's in place," he said, stepping inside. "Lang's expecting you and Zayden to arrive together. The media's already buzzing about your 'partnership.'"

I rolled my eyes. "Let them buzz. It's all part of the game."

Victor hesitated, his gaze flickering to the dress on the bed. "Are you ready for this?"

"Do I have a choice?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

He didn't answer, which was answer enough.

"Good," I said, brushing past him to pour myself a glass of water. "Then let's get this over with."

Victor lingered for a moment before nodding and leaving me alone again.

I finished the water and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was swept back into an intricate style, my makeup sharp and precise. I looked every bit the part of the untouchable businesswoman.

But beneath the surface, my thoughts were a mess.

Last night's kiss lingered in my mind like a ghost, haunting me with every passing moment. Zayden had kissed me—no, I'd kissed him back. And for a brief, reckless second, I'd let myself feel something I couldn't afford to feel.

I shook my head, trying to banish the memory. It didn't matter. It couldn't matter.

A sharp knock at the door made me jump. I composed myself before opening it to find Zayden standing there, looking infuriatingly composed in a tailored black suit.

"Ready, Petal?" he asked, his smirk making my blood boil and my heart skip a beat all at once.

I didn't answer, stepping past him and heading for the elevator. He followed, his presence as irritatingly magnetic as ever.

The ride down was silent, the tension between us thick enough to cut. I refused to meet his gaze, focusing instead on the polished steel doors in front of me.

When we reached the lobby, a sleek black car was waiting for us. Zayden opened the door, his smirk softening into something almost genuine as he gestured for me to enter.

"After you," he said.

I slid inside without a word, and he joined me moments later. The car pulled away from the curb, the city lights flashing by in a blur.

"We need to be on the same page tonight," Zayden said after a few minutes of silence.

I turned to him, arching an eyebrow. "And what page would that be?"

"The one where we don't kill each other in front of Marcus Lang," he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.

I scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm perfectly capable of pretending to tolerate you for a few hours."

"Pretend all you want, Sofia," he said, leaning closer. "But we both know you're not as indifferent as you'd like me to believe."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the car slowed to a stop in front of a grand estate, its sprawling gardens lit up like something out of a fairy tale.

"This is it," Zayden said, his voice low.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. This was what we'd come for. Lang, The Society, the answers we needed—they were all inside.

Zayden stepped out first, offering me his hand. I hesitated for the briefest moment before taking it, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down my spine.

The cameras were already flashing as we walked up the steps together, the picture-perfect image of a power couple.

But beneath the surface, the storm was only beginning to brew