Chapter 2

Isabella’s Pov

As she walked away, Noah finally turned back to me. “You owe me,” he said simply.

“For what?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“For saving you from being thrown out of here, for starters. And for covering for your little stunt.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t have to,” he replied, his tone making it clear I wasn’t getting the last word.

Before I could argue, he glanced around the room. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to keep up the act. For tonight, you’re my date. And in return, we’ll discuss your gallery.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You’ll help me?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said. “I didn’t say yes. But I’m willing to listen—if you can play your part convincingly.”

I stared at him, my mind racing. This wasn’t the plan. None of this was. But if pretending to be Noah’s date for one night meant saving the gallery, could I really afford to say no?

“Fine,” I said, lifting my chin. “I’ll play along.”

“Good.” He offered me his arm, his lips twitching into something almost like a smirk. “Let’s make this believable, shall we?”

I slid my hand into the crook of Noah’s arm, the warmth of his body startling against my cold skin. His confidence radiated in every step he took, a man so at ease with commanding a room that even the most casual observer could sense it. Meanwhile, I was anything but comfortable. The idea of faking my way through an evening as Noah’s date filled me with dread, but the weight of my gallery’s future pushed me forward.

The soft hum of conversation and clinking of glasses filled the elegant ballroom. I could feel the curious eyes of the attendees darting toward us as we walked together, their whispers barely masked. Noah didn’t just bring anyone to events like this, and I certainly wasn’t his typical companion.

He leaned in slightly, his breath grazing my ear. “Relax, Isabella. You look like you’re walking to your execution.”

I clenched my teeth, forcing a neutral expression. “Maybe because I feel like I am.”

His low chuckle sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. “Then start acting like you belong here. Confidence is half the battle.”

As we reached the center of the room, I caught sight of Victoria Summers, the gallery building owner who held the fate of my career in her manicured hands. She was in conversation with a group of influential patrons, her laughter carrying over the room. I swallowed hard. Victoria was the key to everything, but I had to tread carefully.

Noah followed my gaze, his smirk deepening. “Ah, Victoria. Let me guess—she’s the one you need to impress.”

I stiffened. “She’s not just anyone. She’s—”

“The queen of the art world,” he interrupted, his tone dripping with mockery. “I know. She’s also incredibly fond of gossip, which makes her predictable. Stick close, and let me handle her.”

“I don’t need you to handle anything,” I said sharply, my voice barely above a whisper.

Noah arched a brow, his expression one of amused disbelief. “Then by all means, Isabella. Go charm her with that fiery attitude of yours.”

Before I could respond, he steered us directly toward Victoria. My pulse quickened as her sharp blue eyes flicked to us, a flash of surprise crossing her face before she schooled her expression into polite curiosity.

“Noah Jake,” she purred, extending her hand. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

“Victoria,” he replied smoothly, lifting her hand briefly to his lips. The gesture was calculated, charming—everything Noah embodied. “It’s always a pleasure.”

Her gaze shifted to me, her smile thinning. “And who is this?”

Noah’s arm tightened slightly around mine. “This is Isabella.” He hesitated just long enough to make it seem natural, a flicker of hesitation that hinted at intimacy. “My date.”

The room seemed to tilt for a moment. Victoria’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she took me in. I straightened my spine, meeting her gaze with what I hoped was quiet confidence.

“Isabella,” she repeated, testing the name. “And what do you do, Isabella?”

“I’m an artist,” I said, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach. “I have a small gallery in the city.”

Her lips curled in a way that felt more predatory than polite. “A gallery, you say? How ambitious.”

Noah interjected smoothly, his tone light but firm. “She’s being modest. Her work has already caught the attention of some rather important collectors.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his words. Victoria raised a brow, clearly intrigued. “Is that so?”

“It is,” Noah said, his confidence leaving no room for doubt. “In fact, I was hoping to discuss a potential collaboration between Isabella and your gallery.”

My heart raced. This wasn’t part of the plan. I opened my mouth to protest, but Noah’s hand on mine silenced me.

Victoria tilted her head, studying me with renewed interest. “Well, I’d need to see her work, of course. But if Noah Jake is vouching for her…”

“Trust me,” Noah said, his smile sharp. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Victoria gave a small nod, her expression unreadable. “Very well. Isabella, why don’t you send over your portfolio next week? We can set up a time to discuss it.”

Relief flooded me, but I forced myself to keep my composure. “Thank you, Ms. Summers. I’d be honored.”

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before she turned her attention back to Noah. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Noah. But then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Life’s more fun that way, don’t you think?” he replied easily.

She laughed lightly, a sound that carried a touch of suspicion. “Indeed. Well, enjoy the evening, you two.”

As she walked away, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Noah glanced down at me, his smirk firmly in place. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

I shot him a glare. “What was that? You can’t just make promises like that on my behalf.”

“I didn’t promise anything,” he said with an infuriating shrug. “I simply opened a door. It’s up to you to walk through it.”

“You had no right—”

“No right to what? Help you?” he interrupted, his voice soft but firm. “You’re here because you need her attention. I just gave it to you.”

I hated that he was right. But I hated even more the way he made it all sound so simple, as if manipulating people was second nature to him. Maybe it was.

“Thank you,” I said reluctantly, the words bitter on my tongue.

His expression softened ever so slightly. “You’re welcome.”

For a moment, we stood in silence, the noise of the party fading into the background. I studied him, trying to piece together the enigma that was Noah Jake. He was arrogant, manipulative, and frustrating beyond belief. But he was also undeniably clever—and, I had to admit, generous in his own way.

As if sensing my thoughts, he leaned in close, his voice low. “Don’t overthink it, Isabella. Just enjoy the night.”

I nodded, forcing myself to let go of my frustration. The gallery was what mattered, and if enduring an evening on Noah’s arm was the price, so be it.