Faking Fate [Book 1]

Chapter Eleven: A Ring

As I walked beside Alexander into one of the city's most exclusive jewelry stores, I felt like an imposter. This place was the pinnacle of opulence: windows guarded by velvet ropes and staff in white gloves handling diamonds as if they were ancient relics. I glanced around nervously, the light catching on the gleaming cases and sending dazzling reflections everywhere.

"This is a bit over the top, don't you think?" I muttered, my voice barely audible over the hum of the store.

Alexander gave me a sidelong glance.  "I thought you'd appreciate this more than the drive-thru option."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, absolutely. Because nothing says engagement like a ring with a side of fries."

He chuckled softly as we approached a pristine glass case filled with rings that looked like they belonged in a museum rather than on a finger. A well-dressed saleswoman appeared almost immediately, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Alexander.

"Mr. Wolfe, what a pleasure to see you again," she said, her tone dripping with professional courtesy and a hint of nosiness. Her gaze flickered to me, clearly trying to figure out who I was. "And you've brought company today."

"Yes, I have," Alexander replied smoothly, placing a hand on my back and guiding me closer to the case. "We're looking for something special."

The saleswoman's eyes widened slightly before she composed herself. "Of course, sir. We have some exquisite new pieces in just this week. May I show you?"

"Please," Alexander nodded.

As the saleswoman began to arrange a selection of rings, I tried to focus on the jewelry but couldn't shake the feeling of her scrutinizing gaze. It was like she was trying to solve a mystery—who was I, and why was Alexander Wolfe suddenly interested in engagement rings?

Alexander leaned closer and whispered, "You know, you look like you're about to commit murder."

I shot him a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. "Well, considering the circumstances, can you blame me? You lied to me."

He chuckled softly, the tension in the room easing just a bit. "Maybe we should dial back the death glare. We don't want to give her the wrong impression."

"Right," I whispered back, "Because I'm sure she's totally judging us based on my 'murder face' rather than the fact that we're pretending to be engaged."

Alexander's grin widened. "Oh, absolutely. Your 'murder face' is definitely the highlight of her day."

I rolled my eyes. "And your poker face is the epitome of charming. How do you manage to look so smug while I'm here questioning my life choices?"

He leaned closer, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. "It's a gift. I was born with the ability to look calm and collected while you're about to explode. It's called talent."

I scoffed. "Talented at what? Making bad decisions? Because I think you've outdone yourself this time."

Alexander pretended to be hurt. "Ouch. My ego just took a hit. Should I prepare for a funeral service for my self-esteem?"

"Please," I shot back, "Your ego has survived worse. It's been through enough scrapes with reality to be indestructible."

He chuckled again. "And yet, it's still here, thriving despite your best attempts to destroy it."

"Thriving? That's one way to put it. I'd call it delusional. But hey, if it keeps you happy, who am I to judge?"

Alexander grinned. "If being delusional means I get to see you like this, then I'm all for it."