We went downstairs to a covered terrace overlooking the gardens. The table was set for two, with fine china and crystal glasses. A uniformed attendant stood discreetly to the side, ready to serve.
“I thought a quiet lunch would be better today,” Christian said as he pulled out a chair for me. “Give you time to get settled before you meet everyone else.”
“Everyone else” sounded ominous, but I gave him a grateful smile.
Lunch turned out to be surprisingly pleasant. The food was delicious: a light salad with local cheeses followed by wild mushroom risotto that practically melted on my tongue. The wine, of course, was spectacular-produced right there, as Christian made sure to point out.
The conversation flowed easily. Christian told me about the history of the winery, how his great-grandfather had bought the land nearly a century ago, turning it from a small family operation into one of the most respected names in Verdanian wine.
“And now it’s all yours?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Soon,” he replied, sipping his wine. “After we… get married.”
There was the faintest hesitation in his voice, a reminder that all of this was just an act.
“Your grandfather must really believe in marriage,” I commented.
Christian twirled the stem of his glass between his fingers, thoughtful.
“He’s from another generation. He believes a man isn’t complete without a family.” His eyes met mine. “And he thinks I’m… too unstable to carry on the family legacy alone.”
“That’s why you hired a fake fiancée.”
Something flickered in his gaze, darkening just a little.
“That’s why I made a mutually beneficial arrangement with someone who needed help just as badly as I did.”
Touché. I had needed help.
“And how long is this arrangement supposed to last?” I asked, the question that had been gnawing at me since the beginning. “I mean… if we decide to, you know… renegotiate.”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On how long we need each other.”
The way he said need each other sent a strange twist through my stomach. As if there was more to this deal than either of us had bargained for.
“Don’t overthink it now,” Christian went on, noticing my expression. “We’ll take it one step at a time. First, tomorrow’s event.”
I nearly choked on my wine.
“Event? What event?”
“The annual tasting.” He said it like it was obvious. “Buyers, critics, press. It’s one of the most important dates on the winery’s calendar.”
“And you didn’t think that was important to tell me beforehand?”
He shrugged.
“I assumed you knew. It’s the main reason we’re here.”
“I thought we were here to meet your grandfather!”
“He’ll be at the event,” Christian replied, looking genuinely baffled by my reaction. “Along with every major name in the industry.”
Our lunch was interrupted by approaching footsteps. A tall man appeared on the terrace, his features faintly resembling Christian’s. Younger, maybe in his twenties, with an easy smile and lighter hair.
“Chris! You finally brought the famous fiancée!” He approached the table with the confidence of someone completely at home.
Christian stood to greet him with a quick half-hug.
“Zoey, this is my cousin Marcus. Marcus, this is Zoey.”>
“The mysterious woman who tamed Verdania’s most sought-after bachelor.” Marcus grinned, taking my hand and kissing it with theatrical flair. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”
“The pleasure’s mine,” I replied automatically, as he dragged a chair over and sat without asking.
“So, Chris, all set for tomorrow?” Marcus asked, helping himself to wine without hesitation. “Elite already confirmed they’ll be sending their best team.”
Something cold knotted in my stomach.
“Elite?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.
“Elite PR,” Marcus said, winking. “The top PR firm in the country. They’ve completely transformed our image over the past year. My idea, by the way.”
I looked at Christian, but he seemed oblivious to the bomb Marcus had just dropped.
“Elite PR?” I repeated, my voice sharper now. “Elise’s company?”
Marcus blinked in surprise.
“You know Elise Banks? Wow, small world.”
I froze, trying to process. Elite PR. Elise’s company. Suddenly everything around me felt sharper, heavier.
“You knew,” I accused, turning to face Christian.
Christian frowned, looking genuinely confused.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb!” My voice pitched higher, cracking under the weight of anger and panic. “You hired Elise’s company. You must have known her.”
“Zoey, I-“
“Was it a coincidence?” I cut him off, my voice trembling between rage and fear. “Showing up at the wedding, all of this… was there something behind it? Some game between you two?”
Marcus looked between us, visibly uncomfortable.
“I think I’ll… let you two talk,” he muttered, getting up and making a quick exit.
Christian leaned across the table, his voice low and steady.
“Zoey, I have no idea what you’re imagining. Yes, the winery hired Elite PR, but Marcus handled that, not me. I’d never even met Elise before.”
I wanted to believe him. God, a part of me desperately wanted it to be just a coincidence. But the hurt part of me- the part that had been betrayed before-was on full alert.
“Don’t lie to me,” I whispered, hating how my voice shook. “You’re part of Elise’s plan to humiliate me, aren’t you? All of this… Alex, the wedding, you pretending to be someone you weren’t… it was all part of some scheme she put together?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.