A Deal with the devil ( Tangled lies)

phere that seemed to permeate every interaction with Max Thornfield, but now she was expected to put on a show for the world-one that inv

wasn't sure she

lf doing. But here she was, sitting at a lavish dinner table with the most powerful people i

, cutting through her thoughts a

ressure he placed on her. It wasn't just dinner; it was a high-profile event for potential investors. The whole point was

awk watching its prey. His jaw was set, his posture perfect, and though he d

s the same praise he gave her when she did something that met his impossi

guests at the dinner party, they were a picture-perfect couple, exchanging pleasantries and laughing at the right moments. But to C

, seemed to slip into

ole in ensuring the company's future success. His sharp eyes never missed a detail, always calculating, always thinking two steps ahead. Clara couldn't he

approached. "Ah, Mr. Thornfield, I see you've finally convinced your lovely wife to accompany

table. His touch was impersonal, calculated, and cold, as though it was all part of the act

a beat. "It's been an adjustment, of course. But Clara has been a

liment, but a backhanded one, like everything with Max. He didn't

Marriage can be a challenge, especially with the kind of responsibiliti

as cold and smooth as ever

crack from the effort. But she couldn't let it show. Not

nd. She was just a prop in this charade, a decoration on his arm. The whole e

iting to take them back to the Thornfield estate. The moment they stepped out of the building, the

f the limo. His voice was distant, and Clara couldn't decide if it was his u

lara leaned back against the plush seats, staring out the window as the city lights blurred past. She h

r part." His voice was still cold, but there was something about his words that mad

ed, her voice sharp. The words

tures were in the dim light. "That's what this is, Clara," he said slowly, each word clipped. "A part. We're

her stomach. The words were like daggers, and she didn'

d, his voice barely above a whisper. "This

, even if it was just for show. But the words caught in her throat. What was the

tly, her heart h

even wait for the car to fully stop before stepping o

r heads in greeting, their faces polite but distant. The house fe

hair by the door. "You're free to go to your room for the night. But r

already disappearing down the hallway

ted. He was right, of course. This was a marriage of convenience. But was it rea

er part. Because that's all she could do now. Play the role. And pray tha