Chapter 8 Too Much Attention

• The knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned toward it, already knowing who it would be. I tried the knob again, only to remember it was still locked. I sighed, ready to ask Ivan for the keys, but when I turned, he was standing right beside me, so close I almost lost my breath.
• “Uh...” I mumbled, my eyes trailing down to his torso, instantly reminded that he was still shirtless. The fact that I always felt awkward and tongue-tied whenever he was near was painfully obvious.
• Ivan wore a smirk, clearly enjoying how flustered I was. He knew exactly how he made me feel, and my face heated up in embarrassment. How much longer would I let my words get stuck in my throat whenever he was around? Without a word, he reached over and unlocked the door, pulling me even closer, his arm wrapping around me as the door creaked open.
• I found myself pressed against his bare chest, the side of my face brushing against his skin. Standing on the other side of the door was Isabel, her eyes boring into me like daggers.
• “Yes, Isabel?” Ivan said, as if he had already known she was the one knocking. “Why did you choose to interrupt my time with my wife?”
• I rolled my eyes at the sarcastic emphasis he placed on “wife” and tried to pull away from him, but he only tightened his hold.
• Isabel bit her lip, her gaze fixed on me with cold disdain. “The press isn’t here yet, Ivan. You can stop pretending.”
• “What press?” he asked, looking down at me. His eyes met mine, and I couldn’t ignore how much taller he was, how overpowering his presence felt.
• Isabel scoffed, her voice trembling with frustration. “You don’t have to pretend to love this... this bitch.”
• “I’m not pretending,” Ivan said, his voice steady and proud. “Isabel, isn’t it obvious by now? The woman I love is her.”
• Isabel's expression faltered for a moment, her confidence wavering as Ivan’s words hung in the air. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out, her eyes flickering between us, disbelief written across her face.
• I could feel Ivan’s grip on me tighten slightly, as if to remind me he wasn’t just saying it for show. The warmth of his bare skin against mine sent a confusing mix of emotions through me, but there was no denying the possessiveness in his tone.
• Finally, Isabel composed herself, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “You’re really going through with this?” she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. “You think you can just push me aside for her?”
• Ivan’s gaze didn’t waver. “It’s not about pushing anyone aside. This is my choice, Isabel. Veronica is my wife, and that’s the reality you need to accept.”
• I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like a pawn in a game between them. I wanted to speak, to say something, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I stayed silent, unsure of what to even say in a moment like this.
• Isabel took a step forward, her eyes locking onto mine, venom in her stare. “You don’t belong here. You’re just some... convenient excuse for him to get what he wants.”
• I felt Ivan stiffen beside me, but before he could respond, I finally found my voice.
• “And what exactly does he want, Isabel?” I asked, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “Because as far as I can see, you’re the one who’s refusing to accept what’s already done.”
• She scoffed, her lips twitching with anger. “You’re nothing more than a distraction for him. He’ll get bored of you, and when he does, don’t expect him to be so loyal.”
• Ivan stepped forward, finally releasing me from his hold, and for a moment, I felt a chill where his warmth had been.
• “That’s enough, Isabel,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “This conversation is over.”
• Isabel glared at him, her jaw clenched, but she didn’t argue. With one last hateful look in my direction, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her.
• For a moment, there was nothing but silence. I stood there, my heart still racing, unsure of what to feel—relief, confusion, or something else entirely.
• Ivan turned to me, his expression softening. “That girl can be so annoying sometimes,” he mumbled and walked away to the other side of the room.
• Something definitely wasn't right. If Isabel had proof that she was engaged to Ivan, and his mother had promised her the marriage, then what was I doing here? My mind raced with questions I wasn’t ready to confront, but the pieces weren’t fitting together. Why would Ivan go to such lengths to make me his wife, knowing the complications with Isabel?
• I was getting so wrapped up in everything that I almost forgot why I was here in the first place. Ivan's mother had already made it clear—this wasn’t some grand romance or heartfelt connection. It was all just a fake marriage to keep Ivan’s fans entertained while they eagerly paid to get the full story.
• I pushed open the door and walked out, not bothering to look back at Ivan. My feet carried me toward my mother's room, but as I reached the door, the sound of clapping echoed behind me.
• I turned around to see Isabel standing there, a smug expression plastered on her face. "Can't you just leave already?" she sneered. "Stop making things more complicated for Ivan and me."
• I blinked, tempted to tell her off and make it clear that I was only here for the charade, not because I wanted to complicate things between her and Ivan. But something about her smug expression, the way she seemed so sure of herself, stopped me. Instead, I stayed silent for a moment, letting her words sink in.
• “Complicated?” I finally said, my voice steady. “You think I’m the one making things complicated? Isabel, the whole situation is already a mess. You know that as much as I do.”
• Isabel narrowed her eyes, her hands now resting on her hips as she took a step closer. “A mess that wouldn’t exist if you weren’t here,” she shot back. “Ivan and I were supposed to be together, and you—you’re just the temporary distraction he’s using for this whole PR stunt.”
• I wanted to laugh at the irony. Here she was, accusing me of being a distraction, when I was the one caught in the middle of a scheme that wasn’t even mine. It was true that this marriage wasn’t real, and that I wasn’t supposed to get attached. But how could she possibly blame me for the mess Ivan had created?
• It wasn't my first time in a club and I didn't intend for it to be the last, but this was too much for
• a girl who just wanted to party and have fun with guys temporary.