Lie To Me In Diamonds

CHAPTER 2: SMILE FOR THE CAMERAS

The dream always started with his hands.

Warm. Broad. One resting low on her stomach, the other tangled in her hair like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let go.

_“Our baby,”_ He whispered. His voice was gravel and reverence. _“Nadia, look. Our baby.”

And she did.

A sonogram flickered in the dark behind her eyes. A tiny flutter. A heartbeat that matched hers.

She laughed. Cried. Said _yes_ to a future she could taste.

Then the light turned white. Sterile. Too bright.

The heartbeat stuttered.

Pain tore through her — low, wrong, tearing — and someone was saying _“I’m sorry, we lost it”_ in a voice that sounded miles away.

His hands were gone.

No.

She reached for him and the hospital dissolved into screeching metal.

Tires on asphalt. A horn.

Glass.

So much glass, hanging in the air like frozen rain, each shard catching the streetlight and fracturing her face into a hundred Nadias.

One of them was screaming.

One of them was bleeding.

One of them was reaching for his name.

Impact.

Black.

---

Nadia woke up with a gasp that tore her throat, fear rippled through her.

It was the same dream,the same dream that haunted her for as long as she could remember. It felt real,looked real,but it couldn’t be real, she always convinced herself. If it was,why couldn’t she recall anything.

She got out of bed and checked her stopwatch.

4:59 am.

She couldn’t control her heartbeat or stop the tears. If this dream was not real,why does her heart ache so much afterwards,what were this fragments?

Who was this man whose voice she kept hearing, someone from her past?

With unanswered questions and tears in her eyes,she closed her eyes again and let sleep get the best of her.

Nadia opened her eyes again to see that a long evening gown was hanging on a mannequin. Of course it was red. Floor-length, slit up to her thigh, backless enough to make her nervous. It hung on a mannequin in her closet like it was judging her.

Next to it: a note on heavy cardstock.

_Nadia,

Stylist comes at 9. Gala is at 8. Don’t be late.

Try not to stab anyone.

- D_

She crumpled it and threw it at the door.

“Morning sunshine,” came a voice from across the hall. Damian.

Nadia opened her door in shorts and a tank top, hair a mess, scowling. “If you think I’m wearing that—”

Damian was already dressed. Black suit. No tie. Two buttons open. He looked unfairly awake for 8am.

He looked at her. Then at the dress in the closet behind her. Then back at her.

“You’ll wear it,” he said simply.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not for me.” He stepped in, close enough that she had to tilt her head up. “It’s for them. The people watching. Red gets attention. Attention gets them to make a move.”

Nadia crossed her arms. “And what if I don’t want to be bait?”

“Then Varela gets paid in 30 days instead of today.”

Low blow.

Nadia hated that it worked.

“Fine,” she snapped. “But I’m picking the shoes. And I’m armed.”

Damian’s mouth curved. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

---

By 7:45pm she regretted everything.

The gala was at the Hale Museum. Old money, new money, and people who rented money for the night. Crystal. Champagne. A string quartet playing something boring.

And cameras. So many cameras.

Nadia’s arm was looped through Damian’s. .

“Stop glaring,” Damian murmured, guiding her through the crowd. He looked perfect. Calm. Bored, even. Like he did this every Tuesday.

“I’m not glaring,” Nadia said through her teeth. “I’m scanning for exits.”

“You’re glaring.” His hand came to rest on the small of her back. Warm. Possessive. “Smile, Ms. Reyes. You’re in love with me, remember?”

“I’d rather be in jail.”

His thumb brushed her spine. Once. “Then fake it better.”

Flash.

A photographer. “Mr. Cross! Who’s the mystery woman?”

Damian turned, and suddenly his whole face changed. Soft. Proud. Like Nadia hung the moon.

“This is Nadia Reyes,” he said. “My girlfriend.”

The word landed like a brand.

Nadia forced a smile. “Hi.”

More flashes. Whispers.

_Since when does Cross date?_

_She’s nobody._

_Look at her dress. Oh my,she looks like a model_

_She is screaming perfection_

Nadia’s stomach twisted. She plastered herself closer to Damian. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she hissed.

“Immensely,” he murmured back, but his eyes were scanning the room. Same as her. “Left corner. 2 o’clock. Black suit. He’s been looking at you for 6 minutes.”

Nadia didn’t look. “Varela’s guy?”

“Probably.”

They moved through the crowd. Damian introduced her as “Nadia” to CEOs and socialites and one senator who asked if she was a model.

Nadia wanted to punch him. Instead she laughed and said, “Only for Damian.”

God she was good at this.

By 9:30 her feet hurt and her mask was slipping.

“I need air,” she said.

“Roof,” Damian replied. “5 minutes. Then we go back in.”

The roof was quiet. Cold. Just the city and the wind and him.

Nadia kicked off the heels. “This is stupid.”

“It’s working,” Damian said. He leaned on the railing. “Three different people asked me about you tonight. One of them was Marco’s cousin.”

Nadia wrapped her arms around herself. The dress didn’t have room for a jacket and she was freezing.

Before she could complain, Damian shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. It smelled like him. Cedar and whiskey and something clean.

“Don’t,” she said, but didn’t give it back.

“Don’t what?”

“Be nice. It’s confusing.”

Damian looked at her. Really looked. “You jumped off a 40-story building for me yesterday. I think I can spare a jacket.” He smirked.

Nadia rolled her eyes. “We’re not—”

The door opened.

A man stepped out. Black suit. The one from 2 o’clock.

He smiled. “Mr. Cross. Ms. Reyes. Mind if I join you?”

Damian went still. The temperature dropped 10 degrees.

“This is a private event,” he said smoothly.

“I know.” The man pulled out a phone. Showed them a picture.

Nadia’s brother. Tied to a chair.

“Marco Varela says hello,” the man said. “He says the debt is due now. And he wants the diamond. Tonight.”

Nadia’s blood went ice.

Damian didn’t move. But his hand found hers. Squeezed.

“Give me 24 hours,” he said, voice like steel.

“You have 2,” the man said. “Or the next picture is worse.”

He left. Door clicking shut.

Silence.

Nadia’s knees buckled. Damian caught her. His arms were solid around her.

“Breathe,” he said quietly. Right in her ear. “Breathe, Nadia.”

She did. Shaky.

“They have him,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“This was supposed to be 30 days.”

“I know.”

He pulled back just enough to see her face. His expression was hard, but his hands were gentle on her arms.

“Change of plans,” he said. “We don’t wait for them to come to us. We go to them.”

Nadia blinked. “What?”

“We use the gala. We use the diamond. We use the fact that they think you’re my weakness.” His thumb brushed her cheek. Accidental. Or maybe not.

Nadia stared at him. “You’re crazy.”

“Probably.” A ghost of a smile. “But you’re still here.”

Below them, the party continued. Music. Laughter. People who had no idea how close they were to blood on marble.

Nadia looked at the city. At Damian. At the red dress that made her a target.

“Okay,” she said.

Damian nodded. Suddenly,everywhere felt tight and hot and he was looking at her like a man with a motive,a motive she was yet to understand, then he leaned in.

His mouth touched hers, soft,demanding but gentle. Shock hit her like a brick

It wasn’t supposed to last.

It lasted 5 seconds.

When he pulled back, He brought his lips to her neck.

“Someone’s watching,don’t look,” he said, voice rough.

“ Y..yo..you think it’s one of Varela’s men?” She stuttered.

“I don’t know for sure,let’s head back in”

---

Back inside, Damian made an announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, a quick toast. To new beginnings.”

He raised a glass. Pulled Nadia to his side. Kissed her temple like she belonged there.

“If it isn’t the almighty Damian Cross himself!” A thick masculine voice made them both turn around.

Navy suit, tie always loose, sleeves rolled up. Sandy hair, tired green eyes, and a small scar on his eyebrow. 5'11, lean, smells like coffee and clean laundry. Elias Vance.

“If it isn’t my grumpy rival” Damian said back with his muscles tense. Nadia hadn’t met this person before but she could tell that he was more to the fake smile he was putting up.

“Who’s the pretty lady?”

“None of your business, if it interests you so much,she’s my girlfriend”

Damian says while putting a protective hand around her waist pulling her close and placing a soft kiss on her cheeks.

Elias narrows his eyes,he and Damian eyeing each other warily.

“Nice to meet you…”

“Nadia Reyes”

“Nadia” he takes her hand and brings it up to his luscious lips,kisses it and mutters something in Spanish. He was acting way too suspicious or flirty.

“I’ll see you around” he says as he turns to greet other guests.

“You two don’t seem to get along well”. Breaking free from his grip too tight on her waist.

“You don’t want to know”

“I’d like a drink though” she signals to one of the servers carrying drinks.

She grabs a champagne glass. Under the glass there is a small picture.

Out of mindless curiosity, she picks it up.

The champagne glass falls from her hands as she tries to stable herself.

Damian snatches the picture in a flash. There was her brother,hanging upside down by a rope from a tall building- approximately 30 floors up.

The back read: “Bring me my money,or he dies in 2 hours!”