Tattooed in Moonlight

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

By the next morning, the world had officially lost its mind.

The photos were everywhere: me, draped in a gown, trays of rings glittering like I was starring in a reality show titled Who Wants to Marry a Billionaire? My face, caught mid-laugh, mid-groan, mid-combustion. And always, always beside me—Travis. Silent, steady, inevitable.

Hashtags exploded. #DragonBride. #EngagedInExcess.

#RingRotation. Memes of me juggling diamonds like stress balls.

And in the middle of it, my phone buzzed like it had been possessed.

I ignored the first dozen calls. Then the next dozen. By the thirtieth, I gave in.

My manager's face filled the screen, blotchy red, hair sticking out in every direction like she'd been electrocuted.

"Kaira Chaves!" she screamed before I could even say hello. "What in the name of every contract you've ever signed is going on?!"

I winced, holding the phone away. "Morning to you too."

"Morning?!" she shrieked. "There is no morning anymore, only the apocalypse! Do you realize what you've done? I've had five brands call me in the last hour—five! They all dropped you! Again! Because apparently being engaged to Travis Javierres is like declaring war!"

I flopped onto the couch, clutching my tote bag. "Okay, but to be fair, I didn't exactly send out an RSVP card for this engagement."

Her jaw clenched so tight I thought her phone might crack. "Kaira. Rings. Engagement. Headlines. Explain. Now."

I groaned, dragging a hand over my face. "It's not what it looks like."

"It looks like thirty-seven jewelers vomited onto a table while you picked out which engagement ring best matched your tote bag!"

"Okay, that's... not inaccurate."

She screamed into her hands.

"Look," I said quickly, sitting up. "Travis is... Travis. He operates like—like a Bond villain with better suits. He decided this, not me. He called, he summoned, he—" I gestured wildly. "—procured an entire nation's worth of rings."

Her eyes bulged. "And you just went along with it?!"

"I didn't!" I yelped. "I told him to pick for me! I surrendered! It was defeat, not consent!"

"That's not how the media sees it!" she screeched. "The media sees a blushing bride with more diamonds than a royal wedding. Do you understand what this means for us? For your career? For me?!"

I winced. "Okay, but counterpoint: maybe it's not all bad. I mean, visibility is visibility, right? New horizons, global expansion, blah blah blah."

Her mouth fell open. "Oh my god. He's gotten to you."

"No!" I snapped. "I'm just... trying to survive!"

She groaned, collapsing against her desk. "I swear to God, Kaira, if you marry him, I'm quitting and opening a bakery."

I perked up. "Can I get free cupcakes?"

She threw a pen at the screen.

Before I could argue more, another call buzzed in. The palace.

My stomach dropped.

I whispered into the phone. "Manager meltdown level: nine out of ten. Palace meltdown level: about to be nuclear."

She paled. "Brace yourself."

I ended the call.

The next storm was already waiting.