Chapter 4

By the next morning, every entertainment show was replaying the same clip.

Damian Vale, expression unreadable, saying:

“Celeste is with me.”

Celeste sat cross-legged on her couch in an oversized hoodie, staring at the screen with a pillow pressed against her chest.

Nina walked in carrying coffee and nearly laughed.

“You’ve watched that clip six times.”

Celeste immediately grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

“I was analyzing the media impact.”

Nina gave her a look.

“Mm-hmm.”

Celeste looked away.

Because the truth was, she wasn’t thinking about the headlines.

She was thinking about the way Damian’s hand had tightened around her waist when Adrian’s name was mentioned.

Firm.

Protective.

Like he genuinely meant every word.

And that was ridiculous.

Because it was fake.

It had to be fake.

Right?

Later that afternoon, Celeste arrived at the movie studio for rehearsal.

The moment she stepped out of the car, a familiar voice stopped her.

“Still making headlines, I see.”

Her stomach dropped.

Adrian Cruz.

Adrian Cruz

Tall, charming, perfectly styled as always.

The kind of handsome that used to make her weak.

Used to.

Now it only made her tired.

He leaned casually against his car, sunglasses perched on his nose, holding a bouquet of white roses.

Celeste let out a slow breath.

“What are you doing here, Adrian?”

He smiled in that polished, camera-ready way she once adored.

“Can’t I visit my favorite girl?”

Her expression hardened.

“I stopped being your girl a long time ago.”

The smile on his face faltered.

For a moment, something sharper flashed in his eyes.

Then it was gone.

“I saw the news,” he said, stepping closer. “Damian Vale?”

Celeste crossed her arms.

“Yes.”

Adrian laughed softly.

“That man doesn’t date.”

Her jaw tightened.

“And you suddenly know him now?”

“I know men like him.”

His voice dropped.

“Cold. Calculated. He’s using you.”

The words irritated her more than they should have.

Maybe because a part of her had already wondered the same thing.

Before she could answer, another black car pulled up beside the studio entrance.

Her breath caught.

Damian.

Of course.

The driver opened the door and Damian stepped out, dressed in a dark suit that looked unfairly good on him.

His gaze landed on Adrian.

Then on the flowers.

Then on Celeste.

Something in his expression changed.

Subtle.

Dangerous.

Damian walked over, his presence instantly shifting the air.

“Is there a problem?”

Adrian straightened.

“No problem. Just catching up with Celeste.”

Damian’s eyes flicked to the bouquet.

“She looks uncomfortable.”

Celeste blinked.

He noticed.

Adrian gave a tight smile.

“This is between me and her.”

Damian stepped beside Celeste, close enough that his shoulder brushed hers.

“No,” he said coolly, “it isn’t.”

The tension between the two men sharpened instantly.

Celeste felt her heartbeat spike.

Part of her wanted to laugh because this was absurdly dramatic.

The other part… liked that Damian had shown up.

Adrian’s jaw clenched.

“So the rumors are true.”

Damian’s expression remained calm.

“Do you have difficulty understanding headlines?”

Celeste almost choked trying not to laugh.

Adrian’s eyes darkened.

“You think this is real?”

Damian turned slightly toward Celeste.

His arm slid around her waist.

Smooth.

Natural.

Far too easy.

“She’s with me.”

Again.

That same line.

Only this time he said it while looking directly at Adrian.

Adrian stared at Damian’s hand on her waist, his expression souring.

Celeste could practically feel the possessive tension radiating from both of them.

It was ridiculous.

And undeniably thrilling.

Adrian let out a humorless laugh.

“Careful, Celeste. Men like him don’t know how to love.”

The words lingered in the air.

Damian’s jaw tightened.

But his voice remained ice-cold.

“Leave.”

For a moment, Adrian looked like he might argue.

Then he tossed the flowers into the nearest trash bin and walked away.

Celeste stared after him.

Then slowly turned to Damian.

“You really know how to make an entrance.”

His arm was still around her.

Neither of them moved.

“Was he bothering you?”

The question was so direct that it caught her off guard.

She looked up at him.

“A little.”

His expression darkened.

“Then next time, call me.”

Her breath caught.

Next time.

As if he fully intended to be there.

As if this fake arrangement had somehow made him responsible for her.

Dangerous thought.

Very dangerous.

Inside the studio, Damian unexpectedly stayed.

The director, absolutely thrilled by the publicity, insisted they both sit in on the rehearsal.

Which meant Damian spent the next hour watching Celeste perform romantic scenes with her co-star.

And Damian clearly hated every second of it.

Celeste noticed the moment it started.

Her co-star, Leo, had to place a hand on her cheek for a scene.

Damian’s expression went unreadably still.

Then Leo wrapped an arm around her waist.

Damian’s jaw visibly clenched.

Celeste almost smiled mid-scene.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

When rehearsal finally ended, Damian was waiting near the exit.

His expression was calm.

Too calm.

Celeste walked over with a grin.

“You looked jealous.”

“I was not.”

She laughed.

“You absolutely were.”

“I was evaluating the production quality.”

She stepped closer.

“The production quality of his hand on my waist?”

His eyes dropped to her lips for a second.

Then back to her eyes.

“That scene was unnecessary.”

Celeste’s heart skipped.

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

She tilted her head.

“And why is that?”

His gaze held hers.

“Because I didn’t like it.”

The honesty in that answer hit her harder than any teasing line could have.

The playful smile faded from her face.

For a second, the space between them changed.

The teasing.

The fake relationship.

The media stunt.

It all suddenly felt too thin to contain whatever this was becoming.

Celeste’s voice softened.

“You know this is pretend, right?”

Damian looked at her for a long moment.

Then he said quietly—

“I’m starting to forget.”

Silence.

Her breath caught.

His words settled between them like a spark near dry wood.

And then, before either of them could say anything else, his phone rang.

The moment shattered.

Damian looked at the screen, expression darkening.

“Mara.”

He answered.

A pause.

Then his face went completely cold.

“I’ll be there.”

He ended the call.

Celeste frowned.

“What happened?”

His gaze met hers.

“Adrian just gave an interview.”

Her stomach dropped.

“What did he say?”

Damian’s expression was unreadable.

“He claimed you’re still in love with him.”

Celeste stared.

Then groaned.

“Oh, he did not.”

Damian’s eyes sharpened.

“Looks like our fake relationship just became a war.”

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