Terms And Conditions Of the Heart

Chapter Three: The Art of Pretending

The moment Adrian's lips brushed her temple, Eliana felt like the floor had been yanked out from beneath her.

It was a simple gesture. Innocent enough.

And yet, it had the unmistakable weight of something more—something dangerous.

A test.

A warning.

Or maybe just a preview of the storm she had walked into.

Adrian's grandfather studied them for another long, excruciating moment before nodding, apparently satisfied.

"Well then, welcome to the family, Miss Carter," he said gruffly, his tone carrying an air of finality. "Let's see if you can keep up."

Eliana barely had time to react before he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

She let out a slow breath, her pulse still stupidly uneven. "That was…"

"Successful," Adrian finished for her, his grip on her waist finally loosening.

She stepped out of his hold, taking a careful step away. "A warning next time, Blackwood."

He tilted his head slightly, his gray eyes gleaming. "You want a warning every time I touch you?"

Heat crept up her neck. Damn him.

"This isn't real," she reminded him, lifting her chin. "There's no need to—"

"To act like we're engaged?" Adrian's voice was deceptively soft. "That was the whole point, wasn't it?"

Eliana clenched her jaw. She had walked into this arrangement willingly, but she hadn't expected him to play the role so effortlessly.

Or for his touch to linger in her thoughts longer than it should.

Shaking off the feeling, she straightened. "Fine. Let's just get through tonight."

Adrian smirked. "My thoughts exactly."

And just like that, he placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her deeper into the sea of New York's elite.

*A Dance with the Devil*

Eliana had been to high-profile events before, but the Blackwood Charity Gala was something else entirely.

Luxury dripped from every corner—the towering crystal chandeliers, the gilded staircases, the waiters balancing trays of champagne in one hand and judgment in the other.

And at the center of it all was Adrian Blackwood, moving through the crowd with the effortless grace of a man who owned the world and knew it.

The guests watched him. Some with admiration. Some with envy.

And now, they were watching her too.

"Eliana, darling," a blonde woman in an emerald dress crooned as she approached. "I must say, I'm shocked. Adrian never struck me as the marriage type."

Eliana barely had time to process the comment before the woman's sharp blue eyes turned toward Adrian. "Tell me, did you finally meet a woman who tamed you?"

Adrian's smirk was pure amusement. "Eliana isn't the taming type, Grace."

Grace let out a soft, knowing hum. "I see."

She didn't see anything, Eliana thought bitterly. No one did. This entire engagement was built on a lie, yet the scrutiny was real.

She felt it in every passing glance, every whispered comment.

And she hated it.

But if she wanted to keep her investors interested, she had to play her part.

So when Adrian extended a hand, his expression unreadable, she didn't hesitate.

"Dance with me," he murmured.

Eliana took his hand.

*The Trouble with Chemistry*

The ballroom was awash in golden light as Adrian pulled her onto the dance floor, his hand settling at her waist with effortless familiarity.

She expected his touch to feel foreign, forced—but instead, it was too easy. Too natural.

"This is just for show," she muttered under her breath.

"Of course." His smirk was infuriatingly knowing.

Still, the moment he spun her into the first step, she forgot about their deal.

Forgot about the prying eyes.

Forgot about everything but the way he moved with her—effortless, precise, like he had danced with her a hundred times before.

Eliana wasn't sure how long they danced.

All she knew was that her heart was beating too fast.

And Adrian Blackwood was far too good at pretending.

As the song came to an end, Adrian leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against her ear.

"We have company," he murmured.

Eliana's eyes flicked to where the investors—her investors—stood at the edge of the dance floor, watching.

Her stomach tightened. This was it. The moment she had to sell the lie.

She forced a soft smile, reaching up to brush a nonexistent piece of lint from Adrian's shoulder. A small, intimate gesture.

Adrian's eyes darkened slightly.

Then, as if he understood her silent cue, he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together before leading her toward the investors.

"Eliana," one of them greeted, his smile approving. "And Adrian. I must say, we were pleasantly surprised to hear the news of your engagement."

Eliana matched his smile. "It was… unexpected, even for us."

Another investor chuckled. "The best love stories always are."

Eliana forced a laugh. "Exactly."

She felt Adrian's gaze on her, studying her.

Then, one of the investors leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.

"You know, it's not just your business that has us intrigued," he admitted. "It's you, Miss Carter. A woman in this industry needs a certain kind of strength."

Eliana held his gaze, keeping her expression poised. "I like to think I have it."

The man nodded. "I believe you do. But tell me…"

His eyes flicked to Adrian.

"What does a man like Adrian Blackwood see in a woman like you?"

A beat of silence.

Eliana's pulse pounded.

She should have expected this.

She should have had an answer prepared.

But before she could speak, Adrian did.

"She challenges me."

Eliana's breath hitched.

Adrian's tone was calm, steady, but there was something undeniably real in his voice.

"She doesn't care about my money," he continued smoothly, his fingers tightening slightly around hers. "She makes me think. She calls me out when I need it. And…"

He glanced at Eliana then, his gray eyes flickering with something unreadable.

"…she makes me want to be a better man."

The investor's brows lifted. "Now, that's interesting."

Eliana forced a smile, but inside?

Inside, she was reeling.

Because for just a second, she had almost believed him.

Almost.