Page 43 of Innocently Captured By the Bratva

I gaze out the window of Mark's sleek black Mercedes, the city lights blurring past as we speed toward tonight's party. My thoughts wander to that evening, to the warmth of his breath against my skin, the pressure of his body against mine. I shake my head, trying to push the memories away. Focus, Quinn. This is just a business arrangement.

Mark's deep voice breaks into my thoughts. “Penny for your thoughts, Princess?”

I roll my eyes at the pet name, refusing to let him see how it affects me. “Just mentally preparing for tonight. We need to make this engagement look real.”

“Don't worry; I'm an excellent actor.” His blue-gray eyes sparkle with mischief as he grins at me.

***

Three nights later, I sift through the designer dresses Mark sent over, settling on an emerald-green piece that hugs my curves. As I zip it up, I catch sight of myself in the mirror. The dress is a far cry from my usual no-nonsense suits, but it makes me feel powerful and beautiful, exactly what I need tonight.

Mark waits by the door downstairs, looking criminally handsome in his tailored tux. His gaze rakes over me approvingly. “You clean up nice, Desmond.”

My heart races, highlighting the obvious fact that I subconsciously dressed up for him. Does he see it, too?

We share a charged look, the air between us crackling with tension. But I steady my spine, smoothing my dress. I can't let myself forget—this is all pretend. Mark and I come from different worlds. Falling for him is the last thing I can afford to do because he certainly won’t fall for me.

***

As we step into the opulent ballroom, Mark's hand rests on the small of my back, a gesture that feels both possessive and reassuring. I take a deep breath, putting a smile on my face as we navigate through the throng of well-dressed guests.

“Mark, Darling!” A woman dripping in diamonds approaches us, air-kissing Mark on both cheeks. “And who might this lovely creature be?”

“Elena, meet my fiancée, Quinn Desmond.” Mark's arm tightens around my waist, drawing me closer. “Quinn, this is Elena, an old family friend.”

I extend my hand, my smile never wavering. “Pleasure to meet you, Elena.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, assessing me with a shrewd gaze. “Likewise, Dear. I must say, this engagement comes as quite a surprise. Mark's always been such a…free spirit.”

I laugh, the sound a little too bright. “Well, when you know, you know. Right, Baby?” I turn to Mark, our eyes locking.

For a moment, I swear I see something real flicker in his gaze. But then it's gone, replaced by his signature charm. “Oh, I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you, Princess.”

The way he says it makes my heart skip a beat. For a split second, I let myself believe his words contained a fragment of truth, a hint of the feelings I've been desperately trying to suppress. But then reality crashes back in, reminding me that this is all a facade, a performance we're putting on for the world.

Elena glances between us, clearly searching for gossip. “Well, Quinn, you've definitely charmed the uncharmable Mark Zolotov.”

I share a look with Mark, both of us trying to keep up the act. “Oh, it was love at first sight for both of us,” I quip, forcing a laugh as Mark's hand tightens imperceptibly on my waist.

As Elena moves on to greet other guests, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Mark leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “You're a natural at this.”

I shiver, trying to ignore the heat that courses through me at his proximity. “I learned from the best.”

We make our rounds, our act flawless. Mark's hand never leaves my back, his touch a constant reminder of our charade. But as the night wears on, the lines begin to blur. His laughter sounds genuine, and his smiles reach his eyes. When he looks at me, I almost believe the adoration I see there.

A pang of longing hits me, sharp and sudden. What would it be like to truly be a part of his life? To have his affection, his loyalty, for real?

I shake my head, banishing the thought. This is a game, nothing more.

But as he catches my eye, his gaze heated and intense, I can't help but wonder...what if?

***

As we mingle at another party next week, a woman in a sleek silver gown approaches me, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Quinn, Darling! I've been eager to hear more about your engagement.”

I plaster on a smile, my mind racing for a response. “Oh, you know how it is. When you find the right person, everything just falls into place.”

The woman leans in conspiratorially. “But how did he propose? I bet it was terribly romantic.”

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