The sprawling Birmingham estate gleamed under the soft glow of the evening sun, its marble pillars and manicured gardens creating a picturesque backdrop for the engagement party of the year. Society’s elite had gathered on the grand lawn, sipping champagne and exchanging empty pleasantries, their smiles as polished as their diamond jewelry. Olivia, or rather Selena—the identity she now inhabited—stood at the center of it all, her hand delicately resting in the crook of Ezra’s arm.
Her eyes, seemingly brimming with love and devotion, scanned the crowd with feigned serenity. She could feel Mr. Birmingham’s piercing gaze from across the terrace, his expression impassive but his eyes cold with unmasked disdain. Next to him, Victoria was the picture of composed elegance, her sharp eyes missing nothing, her lips curved in a tight, calculating smile. Olivia knew that their presence was the true test of the illusion she and Ezra had so carefully crafted.
But it wasn’t just for Mr. Birmingham and Victoria that they were performing—it was for the world. Journalists mingled with the guests, subtly snapping photos, while members of high society clinked their glasses, murmuring about the shocking engagement of the Birmingham heir to an unknown woman. Olivia kept her posture graceful, her smile demure, but beneath the porcelain mask of "Selena," her pulse was racing.
Ezra’s hand tightened ever so slightly over hers, a gentle reassurance, the brush of his thumb a silent promise that they were in this together. She turned her face toward him, and for the watching crowd, her eyes softened with what appeared to be pure adoration.
“You’re doing perfectly,” Ezra whispered against her ear, his breath warm on her skin.
Olivia smiled as though he had said something sweet, tilting her head affectionately. Her lips parted, and she let out a soft, almost flirtatious laugh, ensuring the nearby guests overheard.
“Stop making me blush,” she teased, her voice light but her eyes steely with resolve.
Ezra's gaze lingered on her, his eyes dark and intense. The way he stared at her made her knees weaken just a little—despite knowing it was part of the act. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, slowly, intimately, before pressing his lips to her temple. The warmth of the gesture lingered longer than necessary, making her breath catch. For a brief, dangerous moment, she forgot they were pretending.
The crowd melted into appreciative murmurs at the display of affection. Mr. Birmingham’s jaw tightened. Victoria’s eyes narrowed, though her smile remained intact.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ezra’s voice rang out smoothly as he led Olivia toward the center of the terrace, his tone commanding attention. “I’d like to take a moment to properly introduce you all to the woman who’s stolen my heart.”
His eyes locked with hers, and despite the fact that they were playing a role, the sincerity in his voice made her stomach flip.
“Selena,” he continued, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a reverent kiss to her knuckles. “From the moment I met you, you turned my world upside down. You challenged me, made me laugh, made me think. I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you by my side—for the rest of my life.”
The crowd cooed in delight. The women sighed in envy. Olivia felt the heat of their gazes, but none of them weighed heavier than Mr. Birmingham’s. She could feel the furious scrutiny in his eyes, the way he scrutinized her every move, searching for a crack in the perfect performance. She knew she had to be flawless.
So, she played her part. She allowed her eyes to shimmer with unshed tears, her lips trembling ever so slightly with what seemed to be overwhelmed emotion.
“Ezra,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice trembling just enough to sound choked with love. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
She blinked once, twice, and then glanced down as though she were struggling to keep it together, before finally lifting her gaze to meet his. “You’ve made me the happiest woman alive.”
The crowd erupted in applause. Champagne glasses clinked. Photographers flashed their cameras, capturing the picture-perfect moment.
Ezra pulled Olivia closer, his arms encircling her waist as he leaned down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. Her breath hitched, and she allowed herself to melt into him, knowing the public was watching, knowing they needed to believe the love was real. His lips were warm, his touch tender yet possessive, and for a fleeting second, she felt the world tilt.
When they parted, she let out a soft, breathless laugh, as though she were so overwhelmed by love she could hardly contain it.
But when her eyes flickered past Ezra’s shoulder, she saw Valerie watching from the edge of the crowd, her face a mask of barely contained fury. The champagne flute in her hand trembled ever so slightly, her knuckles white from gripping it too tightly. Their eyes met, and Olivia saw the promise in Valerie’s eyes—a promise of vengeance.
Ezra must have sensed her tension, because his hand discreetly squeezed her waist, grounding her. She turned back to him, offering the crowd a soft smile, before he guided her toward the head table, where his family awaited.
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The Confrontation
As they approached, Mr. Birmingham’s eyes bored into Olivia with cold contempt, but she smiled sweetly, offering her hand in a gesture of graciousness.
“Mr. Birmingham, Victoria,” she greeted softly, her tone warm and polite. “Thank you for hosting such a beautiful evening.”
Victoria’s lips curled into a predator's smile, her fingers cool and delicate as she took Olivia’s hand. She squeezed lightly—too lightly. A warning.
“Of course, my dear,” Victoria crooned, her voice sweet, her eyes venomous. “Anything for the woman who will carry the Birmingham name.”
Mr. Birmingham, however, was far less subtle. His hand barely brushed Olivia’s, and he offered her nothing more than a curt nod. Ezra’s expression hardened immediately. He positioned himself slightly in front of Olivia, a protective barrier between her and his father’s venomous gaze.
“Father,” Ezra’s voice was low, cold. “You should be honored to meet the woman I love.”
Mr. Birmingham’s eyes flicked to his son, sharp and disdainful. “Love,” he muttered mockingly. “What a foolish notion.”
The tension thickened. Victoria’s eyes glimmered with barely concealed satisfaction. She wanted Olivia rattled. She wanted a crack in the performance.
But Olivia, to her own surprise, stood firm. She kept her eyes warm, her smile steady. She tilted her head slightly, a delicate display of grace and humility.
“I understand your hesitation,” she said softly, her voice measured and sincere. “After all, I know how much you love your son, and you only want what’s best for him. I admire that. And I promise you, with all my heart, I will always do what’s best for him too.”
It was a masterstroke. A direct counter to Mr. Birmingham’s veiled hostility. She didn’t flinch or fawn—she met him with grace and dignity. Her sincerity disarmed him.
For a brief moment, Mr. Birmingham’s mouth pressed into a thin line, clearly caught off guard by her composure. Victoria’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, sensing she had underestimated her opponent.
Ezra’s eyes glimmered with pride. He tightened his hold on Olivia’s hand, silently marveling at her strength, her resolve.
“Well said, darling,” he murmured softly, deliberately using the affectionate term just loud enough for the others to hear.
Olivia smiled at him, her eyes shining with adoration.
And in that moment, with the entire Birmingham family watching, their performance was flawless. The crowd saw only a couple deeply in love, defying the odds and overcoming the scorn of the elite. No one saw the carefully concealed glances, the subtle tension in Olivia’s spine, or the steel behind Ezra’s smiles.
They were perfect. Convincing. Unbreakable.
And even as Victoria plotted her next move and Mr. Birmingham seethed, Olivia knew they had won this round.
But the game was far from over.