Izzy didn't recognize herself in the mirror. A sleek black dress hugged her frame, tailored to perfection courtesy of the stylist she'd met twenty minutes ago. The heels were too tall. The lipstick is too bold. The diamond ring on her finger? Too heavy, like it knew it didn't belong there.

But none of that mattered now. The contract was signed.

And the hospital bill? Already half-paid.

She stared at her reflection. She didn't look like an event planner or a daughter scrambling to keep her mother alive. She looked like the perfect Billionaire's wife. 

"I look like someone else," she murmured.

The door creaked open behind her.

"They call that transformation," Nathan said, sauntering in with a smirk and a folder under his arm. "The good kind. Cinderella but make it NDA."

Izzy turned. "And you're what? The fairy godmother?"

"I'm the guy who makes sure the coach doesn't turn into a flaming PR disaster halfway through the ball."

Nathan slid the tablet toward her. "Study up. This is your new life."

On-screen: a detailed timeline of their relationship, entirely fictional. First meeting at a charity auction. Private dinners. Paparazzi shots doctored to look like they'd been dating for months. It was meticulous. Down to their shared Spotify playlist and favorite late-night diner.

"I hate this," she muttered.

"Good," Nathan said. "Means you'll play it safe."

She looked up. "Is that what you do? Just follow Alex around cleaning up his messes?"

"I clean up everyone's messes," he said smoothly. "It's how I know this one's going to be a hurricane," he whispered, causing Izzy to roll her eyes. 

The elevator dinged and Alex stepped in, dressed in a black suit matching Izzy's dress.  His presence changed the temperature of the room.

Izzy straightened instinctively.

"You're late," Nathan said, checking his watch.

"I'm busy," Alex replied, not sparing him a glance. His eyes landed on Izzy. "You're ready."

It wasn't a question.

She swallowed. "As I'll ever be."

Alex extended a hand. She hesitated, then slipped hers into his.

"We go in. We smile. We answer only what we've rehearsed," he said. "No improvising."

"I've handled interviews before," she said.

"Not like this."

They stepped into the elevator. Nathan stayed behind, watching them like a coach sending rookies into the final quarter.

"Try not to say anything stupid. Or real." Nathan yelled. 

The elevator opened into the lobby, where chaos had already bloomed outside the building. Photographers pressed against the glass. Reporters shouted behind the velvet ropes. A thousand eyes are trained on the doors.

"God," she whispered.

"Smile," Alex said, reaching for her hand. "And don't look like you want to run."

Izzy's stomach tightened and Alex could feel her nervousness. 

"Just keep your eyes on me," he said under his breath.

The doors opened and the paparazzi swarmed them. 

"Izzy, over here!"

"Alex, congratulations!"

"Let us see the ring!"

Izzy raised her hand slightly, letting out a deep breath. 

"Ms. Hart, how did he propose?" someone called.

She forced a smile. "Privately. It was... unexpected, but beautiful."

"Did you cry?" another shouted.

"She threatened to throw champagne at me," Alex added smoothly. The press laughed.

A reporter called out, "Alex, what made you fall for her?"

He didn't hesitate. "She tells me the truth. No matter how much I hate it."

The crowd softened as a murmur of "Awws" erupted. 

Another voice: "Izzy, what do you admire most about Alex?"

She looked up at him. The man beside her was an arrogant, self-centered jerk. 

But she'd read the file. She knew exactly what to say. 

"His loyalty," she said. "Even when he pretends he doesn't care, he protects the people who matter to him."

Alex's jaw twitched and Izzy caught sight of it. 

"Will there be an engagement party?"

"What's the wedding date?"

"Are you planning to move in together?"

They both answered with ease, like they actually meant everything. Izzy started to feel the rhythm. She played her part, smiled at just the right moments. Caressed Alex's hand multiple times and the press couldn't help but feel the chemistry. 

A voice from the back cut through the noise. It was louder and more stern. 

"Alex! How do you think your late ex-fiancée Lila would feel about this engagement?"

You're The Lie They'll Try To Tear Apart

Alex had been asked a thousand questions in his life.

About IPOs, mergers, stock performance, quarterly growth, and lastly about Lila.

He'd answered most of them and he'd dodged the rest. But no one had ever asked how Lila would feel.

The question hit him deeper than he expected. He glanced at Izzy who looked confused as she stared right back at him. 

Alex blinked, his hand clenching. But then he let out a forced smile. 

"I think Lila would want me to be happy," he said smoothly.

Before anyone could speak again, he turned to Izzy and tucked her hair behind her ear, a simple gesture. Gentle, warm enough to give the headlines something else to write about.

She flinched slightly at his touch. Not enough for the press to catch. But enough for him to feel.

"We'll take one more question," he said.

No one dared speak after that.

They made their exit, flanked by his PR team. The lobby door shut behind them, cutting off the chaos outside. The elevator swallowed them in silence.

Izzy stood still beside him, her hands clenched at her sides.

"That was....."

"Unplanned," Alex said, jaw tight.

"Who is Lila?" she asked quietly.

He didn't answer.

When they reached the top floor, Izzy stepped out first. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble like she was trying not to look shaken. He followed closely behind her, not wanting to be in the same space with her. 

Nathan was already waiting in his office.

"Well," he said, arms crossed. "That could've gone worse."

"Find out who planted that question," Alex said, his voice cold. "Now."

Nathan gave a small nod. "Already on it. But I've got a hunch."

"Vivienne?" Alex said.

"Bingo. Someone from her media firm must have gotten in touch with her."

Izzy turned sharply. "Who's Vivienne?"

"Not your concern," Nathan said.

Alex didn't correct him.

Not because it wasn't Izzy's concern, everything was her concern now. But saying her name out loud made it too real.

Izzy crossed her arms. "The press just asked about your dead ex. I think I deserve to know if someone's trying to ruin this arrangement before it even starts."

"She's not trying to ruin it," Nathan muttered. "She's trying to control it and she hates surprises."

"She'll hate this one more," Alex added flatly.

He walked to the bar in the corner of the office and poured himself a drink. He didn't usually touch alcohol during work hours, but this wasn't a usual day.

"Lila was my fiancée," he said at last, eyes fixed on the glass in his hand. "We were supposed to get married three years ago."

"What happened?" Izzy asked, her voice softening.

"She died," he said. "A car accident."

Silence.

Nathan cleared his throat. "You don't have to explain...."

"I do," Alex cut in. "She's going to come up again. They'll compare you to her. They'll measure your smile, your tone, and the way you breathe. She was perfect in their eyes. And now..."

He turned to Izzy.

"You're the lie they'll try to tear apart."

Izzy's face paled slightly. "I didn't ask for that."

"No one ever does."

She didn't back down. She straightened up. 

"Then I guess we give them a performance they'll never forget."

He looked at her for a long moment.

Maybe she wasn't so fragile after all. Perhaps she was more dangerous than he realized.

"Good," he said. "Because from now on it's only going to get worse."

Izzy kicked off her heels the second she stepped into her apartment.

The place was dimly lit, but familiar, her worn-out couch, the leaning stack of books on the coffee table, the scent of lavender and lemon from the candle Sophia had lit. After the flashing cameras, the sea of faces, and Alex's ice-cold grip on her waist, it felt like stepping back into her real self 

But even here, she didn't feel like herself.

"Thank God you're home," Sophia called from the kitchen, a mug of tea in her hands and concern in her eyes. "I kept the TV off. Figured you'd rather not relive it tonight."

Izzy offered a weak smile and flopped onto the couch. "Thanks. I've had enough fake smiles for one lifetime."

Sophia plopped down beside her. "You were good, though. No, seriously, Iz. You were glowing, like an actual billionaire's fiancée."

"I felt like a mannequin," Izzy muttered, reaching for the throw blanket draped over the couch. "Stuffed into someone else's fantasy."

"Well, the dress was a fantasy. Can we talk about that slit?"

Izzy gave a tired laugh. "I almost tripped while walking down the steps. Twice."

"And the diamond?" Sophia leaned in dramatically. "You could signal aircraft with that thing. I practically went blind when you raised your hand."

Izzy glanced at the ring, now sitting silently on the coffee table like it was waiting to accuse her of something. "It doesn't feel like mine."

Sophia's playful smile faded. "That bad, huh?"

Izzy hesitated. "They asked about her. Lila."

Sophia sat up straighter. "Wait. His ex?"

"His late fiancée," Izzy corrected softly. "Someone from the press shouted the question out of nowhere. You should've seen his face, Soph. He went still and then after a moment...he touched me. Like we were something real. Like he had to prove it."

Sophia's brows pinched together. "Was it an act?"

"That's the part I don't know." Izzy picked at a loose thread in the blanket. "He told me not to improvise. To stick to the plan. But after that question, everything changed. It felt like he wasn't pretending anymore. And that scared me more than anything."

They sat in silence for a while. 

Then Sophia asked, gently, "Do you think you're starting to like him?"

Izzy looked away. "I think I'm starting to see the broken version of him and part of me wants to reach in."

"Girl..." Sophia sighed. "This whole thing was supposed to be business. Quick cash, fake appearances. You weren't supposed to catch feelings."

"I haven't," Izzy lied. "It's just... he's not the villain everyone warned me about."

"But he's not a hero either," Sophia said, her voice laced with concern. "Don't romanticize a man who can lie that smoothly. You think he's letting you in, but he's just playing his part better than you are."

Izzy rubbed her temples. "I know. I know you're right."

Sophia reached over and took her hand. "Then promise me something."

"What?"

"When this all starts to hurt too much..,...walk away. No money is worth your sanity."

Before Izzy could answer, her phone buzzed against the armrest.

Unknown Number.

She stood, suddenly uneasy. "I'll take this to my room."

Sophia gave a nod, concern flickering again behind her eyes.

Izzy stepped into the bedroom and closed the door softly behind her. The room was quiet, the buzz of the city distant. Her heart pounded heavily. Her chest.

She answered. "Hello?"

A calm, measured voice with a kind of confidence that came from having nothing to prove.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Ms. Hart."

Izzy stiffened. "Who is this?"

"Vivienne Dane."

The name sent a shiver down her spine. 

"You don't know me," the woman continued, "but you know my sister. Or at least, her memory. Lila Blackwood."

Izzy's heart sank. "I.....I didn't know she had any family," she said.

"That's the problem with grief," Vivienne said smoothly. "People forget the ones left behind."

Izzy's throat tightened. "Why are you calling me?"

"To know you," Vivienne said, almost with amusement. "And to warn you."

Izzy sat down slowly on the edge of the bed. "About what?"

"This arrangement with Alex," Vivienne said. "It might serve you for now, money, status, attention. But it's built on something sacred, on someone sacred. You're dancing in a graveyard, Ms. Hart. Don't mistake the applause for safety."

Izzy closed her eyes. "I didn't ask for this. I'm just trying to survive."

"Then survive somewhere else."

"I signed a contract."

"Then tear it up."

Izzy gritted her teeth. "That's easy for you to say. You weren't drowning in hospital bills."

Vivienne's tone softened. "I'm not heartless. But I am serious. Leave, before this becomes a story you can't rewrite."

"Is that a threat?"

Vivienne let the silence stretch before answering, "It's a favor. If I wanted to threaten you, you'd know."

The call ended with a quiet click.

Izzy stared at the screen. How the hell could she leave when she hasn't even completed her end of the deal? 

Her phone buzzed again.

DAMIEN: Be ready at 7 a.m. Foundation board meeting. Wear navy. No surprises.

Izzy set the phone down in her lap. No surprises? Too late for that.