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Chapter 2 The Dance of Suspicions

Word Count: 1066    |    Released on: 02/07/2025

to that glittering lie. It was as beautiful as a trap: every layer of lace, every hand-sewn

vious glances. No one saw the slight tremble in Mia's fingers, nor the drop of sweat that threatened to loosen the tiny silicone prosthesis glued to her jawline. Such a small piece, barely a mold that refined the contours o

oice reached her ea

nds an entire room with the flick of a finger. He extended his hand toward her, waiting for her to fulfill he

le walls, and returned heavy with anticipation. It was the moment everyone had been waiting for: the rad

irm hand on the curve of her waist. The warmth of his pal

e lied, in a whisper she

ights follow every step, every blink, every tiny crack in her performance. Inside, she prayed that the pro

d out suddenly, so quietly that th

an down h

f to hold her smile. The varnish on the m

s he turned her around, pulling her back against his chest. Her pe

, brushing his lips against her

. Don't bite, don't answ

ng on a rehearsed smile in front of the flashbulbs

ng her eyes. His fingers dug a little deeper into

eil shifted, if someone brushed against her too closely... goodbye to everything. She thought of her sister wait

or slowly released her, still staring at her. She tried not t

th marble smiles. Everyone wanted a glimpse of the perfect bride. Mía gave a cheek, a smile, a calculated "thank you."

s associates, but his eyes found her from afar. He watched her. He never st

ct bubble. The waiter leaned in, wishing her happiness. Mía

his own glass and clinked it against h

h tonight," he said,

rim of the glass touched he

replied automatical

in it almost hurt, s

is eyes, as dark as a bot

repeated, as if confir

gh her mind: Lara toasting at parties, holding glasses of red wine, laughing wi

, swallowing. "Today I just

is glass with his fingertip, as if toying with the

ed away to greet a group of investors, Mia felt the glass tre

r skin burning beneath her prosthesis, the root of her wig pricking behind

dows, watching her like a patient hawk. The glass was still in his hand, his lips tense in a smi

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