The Engagement Ring

Madeline's POV

The food was lavish, but I barely tasted anything since my mind wasn't on food anymore. It was on the strange, shifting energy around the table.

Hunter's family, who only hours ago wore masks of disdain and suspicion, now appeared oddly cheerful. They laughed, smiled, and even exchanged lighthearted remarks as though they hadn't looked at me earlier like I was an unwelcome guest in their world.

But I knew better, they weren't smiling because of me. They were smiling because Hunter was beside me. Their golden son and the heir. The only person in the room with enough power to change the atmosphere simply by being present.

Were they pretending? Had this all been an act carefully rehearsed? Or were they genuinely warming up to me because of how Hunter treated me? But I couldn't tell since their masks were too perfect.

Hunter and his father soon fell into a quiet conversation about the company, their voices low and clipped. I barely followed it, my attention pulled to the sweet little girl, who leaned in with bright eyes and an eager curiosity that made me smile despite myself.

"Where did you meet my brother?" Lily asked, resting her chin in her palm.

"At my university," I answered, forcing lightness into my voice.

She giggled, her cheeks pink. "So sweet! What about your first date? Where did he take you?"

I froze as my throat tightened. I had no idea. There was no first date, no courtship, just an arrangement and a debt.

Before I could fumble for a lie, Hunter answered smoothly, "I took her to my favorite restaurant. But I'm not telling you where, and Maddie isn't allowed to either."

He ruffled Lily's hair as she pouted, and she immediately brightened, leaning against him. There was such a tender dynamic between them that it made something ache quietly in my chest. She adored him. That much was clear.

Then Mr. Divenson spoke. "So, when's the wedding?"

"In a month," Hunter said easily. "That's why Maddie's moved in early—to get familiar with the estate and with you all. After the wedding, we'll be moving into our new home."

The energy shifted as Mr. Divenson's smile faltered. His shoulders straightened, his jaw ticking as he slowly folded his napkin and placed it on the table.

"You can't do that," he said firmly. "This estate belongs to you. It's been passed down for generations. This is your home—your legacy. If you want space, we'll move out. But you stay."

"You're not leaving this house, Hunter," he repeated, voice steely with finality.

Beside me, I noticed Hunter's expression tighten. He didn't speak. He didn't argue. But his jaw clenched, and his hand curled into a subtle fist at his side. And in that small movement, I saw his restraint.

After dinner, we all rose from the table. Lily reached for my hand as we walked toward the stairs. Her small fingers curled around mine, and I found comfort in her quiet presence. Hunter trailed behind us, silent, his steps steady but unreadable.

Just as we reached the hallway to my bedroom, his voice called out softly, "Lily."

We both turned.

"I know you want to spend time with Maddie, but I need to speak with her—alone."

Lily blinked, then nodded quickly. She hugged me, then whispered something into her brother's ear that made him smile faintly. She waved goodbye and disappeared down the corridor.

I reached for the doorknob, unsure if I should invite him in—or simply say goodnight.

Before I could decide, I turned and collided straight into his chest.

I hadn't realized how close he was.

His hands caught me instantly, strong and steady at my waist. The spark of contact jolted through me like a current. My breath hitched as I looked up at him, the scent of his cologne wrapping around me—clean, sharp, and maddeningly alluring.

This was exactly what Gina meant—the dizzying sensation. The unspoken tension. The heat beneath the surface.

Before I could move, before I could even form a single thought, his hand came up and tilted my chin with his two fingers, and then, he kissed me.

Softly at first—like a question. Like he was testing the line between pretense and something that might not be pretend at all. Then the pressure deepened, urgency building with each passing second. It wasn't sweet anymore. It was possessive. Wild. Controlled only by the thinnest thread of restraint.

My hands fisted the fabric of his shirt, clutching him on instinct. My body reacted before my mind could process what was happening. I melted into him, tasting warmth and fire, a storm of things I didn't understand. My world tilted, and it felt like the ground had vanished beneath my feet.

When he pulled away, I was left breathless, dazed, like I had just fallen from some great height and landed hard in reality.

But the real fall came when I looked into his eyes.

The softness I thought I saw in them? Gone.

His expression shuttered instantly—cool, unreadable, untouched by what had just happened.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Maddie," he said, voice clipped and cold. "This is for appearances. My family needs to believe we're in love. That's all this is."

The words struck me harder than I expected—like ice after fire, a cruel contrast that left my chest aching.

"I'm staying in your room tonight," he continued, "but nothing will happen. Not until we're married."

I nodded, too stunned to speak, too stunned to move. Everything about him was so calculated. And yet the kiss we shared didn't feel fake.

He reached into his pocket with the same mechanical precision. "Give me your left hand." His tone left no room for questions. Slowly, I lifted my hand as my fingers trembled.

He slid a ring onto my finger—an engagement ring. It was delicate, exquisite. The kind of ring little girls dreamed of. Silver and diamond, elegant but not too flashy. It looked like it had been custom-made.

It fits perfectly, as if he'd known my size before I even arrived.

"Don't take it off," he said. "That ring says we're real. Don't give them a reason to think otherwise."

I swallowed hard, my throat burning with questions. With confusion. With something I didn't have a name for.

I wanted to ask why me? But I knew the truth: I wouldn't get answers. Not from him. Not tonight. So I said nothing. I just stood there, staring at the ring weighing down my hand.

"What should I call you?" I asked, like I was asking permission to speak.

He looked at me with an unreadable expression on his face before he mumbled "Hunter." And with that, he turned around without saying goodbye. No soft smile, not even a second glance.

He walked out and left me standing in the doorway of a room that didn't feel like mine. A room that had been transformed into something else entirely—an illusion of belonging. A beautifully decorated cage.

I closed the door slowly behind him, my hand still tingling from where he'd slipped the ring on.

And despite the fire of his kiss and the coldness of his words, one truth settled deep into my chest like a stone:

I was falling into something I couldn't control. And I didn't know whether I should fight it or fall further.

Why is he like this? I wondered. Charming in front of others, cold in private. Like someone flipping a switch.

I touched my lips, the memory of his kiss still tingling there.

That second kiss was nothing like the first. It was hungrier, and deeper, like he needed to claim something. There was a fire in it. A kind of desperation that made my heart stumble.

And yet, he walked away like it meant nothing.

Was I foolish for hoping it meant something?

Even if all of this had started with a lie—an arrangement, a contract, a debt—something inside me was shifting. I wasn't marrying him for money. Not really. I was doing this for my aunt, to repay a kindness I could never match. But somewhere between obligation and this moment…

It started to feel like something more. I sighed and turned toward the bed, ready to bury my thoughts under the covers when the door creaked open.

My body tensed, but my panic quickly eased as Hunter stepped inside, holding a key in one hand. His presence filled the room without him even trying. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and he wore nothing but grey sweatpants and a fitted white tank top that did absolutely nothing to hide his sculpted frame.

His skin gleamed faintly under the warm light. His muscles moved beneath his shirt like the body of a man carved from stone. And for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

He didn't look like a man preparing for bed—he looked like a temptation I was absolutely not ready for.

"Get to bed, Maddie," he said, voice casual, low. "I've got work early tomorrow."

I nodded quickly and climbed into bed, pulling the blanket over me like it might protect me from the chaos of emotions swirling in my chest.

He crossed the room with easy confidence and settled on the opposite side. The mattress dipped under his weight, and I tried to stay as still as I could—even as my heartbeat pounded against my ribs like a war drum.

He was so close. Too close.

I kept my eyes fixed on the ceiling, but I could feel him. The warmth of his body. The rise and fall of his breath. The steady calm that radiated from him like he wasn't affected at all.

He closed his eyes, lips slightly parted, expression untroubled. He looked too perfect, and I couldn't stop staring.

Even after everything he said I still found myself drawn to him in a way I couldn't explain. Like gravity had shifted and was pulling me toward something dangerous and irresistible.

"Maddie," he murmured without opening his eyes, "go to sleep. And stop checking me out."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I rolled onto my side, flustered and thoroughly caught. How does he know I was looking at him? Was he peeking? Or could he just feel it? I pulled the covers higher, determined to still my thoughts.

But sleep didn't come easily.

Not when he was lying so close. Not when my mind kept replaying the way he kissed me. Not when I kept wondering if I was just another girl caught in the glow of a man like Hunter Divenson… or something more.

And yet, even through the confusion and questions, a small smile curled on my lips as I finally closed my eyes.

Because somehow, despite everything, lying beside him like this felt like the beginning of something I didn't dare name, and how I wanted to believe in it.