Naomi
“Just smile.”
Jacob’s voice is a low command in my ear, his breath warm against my temple. His hand rests on the small of my back, a proprietary gesture that feels less like affection and more like ownership. It’s supposed to look like we’re a unit. It feels like he’s a guard, making sure the prisoner doesn’t bolt.
We are standing at the entrance to the grand ballroom he has rented for the occasion. It’s not in the penthouse, he explained, because that would be too intimate. This is not about intimacy. It’s about a public declaration of a merger.
I’m poured into a midnight-blue dress that his stylist delivered this morning. It’s simple, elegant, and costs more than my bakery’s profits from the last six months. It feels like a costume. My hair is swept up in a way that feels foreign, and the diamond earrings he clasped around my lobes feel like tiny, cold weights.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“Does it matter?”
A muscle in his jaw tightens. “For the next three hours, it matters a great deal. You are Mrs. Renner. Try to look like you don’t despise the position.”
He guides me into the room. It’s a glittering sea of people, all dressed in jewels and designer labels. The air hums with quiet conversation and the clinking of champagne flutes. Every head turns as we enter. I feel hundreds of eyes on me, dissecting me, judging me. I am the new acquisition being paraded for the shareholders.
Whispers follow us like the train of a gown. “That’s her?”… “Came out of nowhere.”… “The baker?”
I grip my own champagne flute so tightly I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter. I take a sip, and the bubbles feel like acid in my throat.
“Relax,” Jacob murmurs, steering me toward a group of older men in perfectly tailored tuxedos.
“I’d rather be cleaning my ovens,” I murmur back, my smile fixed and painful.
He ignores me, launching into a smooth introduction. “Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet my wife, Naomi.”
They offer polite smiles and limp handshakes. Their eyes are full of questions they’re too polite to ask. They talk about stock prices and acquisitions. I stand there, a silent, decorative accessory to his power.
Then the sea of people parts. A woman is walking toward us, and she moves with the kind of predatory grace that makes everyone else seem like prey. She is breathtakingly beautiful, with hair the color of spun gold swept into an elaborate twist, and a red dress that clings to her like a second skin. Her eyes, a cool, calculating green, are locked on Jacob.
“Jacob, darling,” she purrs, her voice like velvet wrapped around shards of glass. She glides past me as if I’m not there and places a kiss on his cheek, letting her fingers linger on his arm. “You threw a party and didn’t tell me what we were celebrating. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me.”
Jacob gently detaches her hand from his sleeve. His expression is unreadable. “Lily. I wasn’t aware you were in town.”
“I came back for you, of course,” she says, her smile not reaching her eyes. It’s only then that she deigns to look at me. Her gaze travels down my body and back up, a slow, dismissive appraisal. “And who is this?”
“Lily Vanderbilt, this is my wife, Naomi Renner.” The words are a formal declaration, a cannon shot in the quiet room.
Lily’s perfectly sculpted smile falters for a fraction of a second. It’s a barely perceptible crack in a flawless facade, but I see it. I see the flash of raw fury in her green eyes before it’s replaced by a look of amused pity.
“Your… wife?” she repeats, drawing the word out as if it’s a foreign, distasteful object on her tongue. “Well, isn’t that a surprise.” She extends a hand to me, her fingers cold and limp, her grip lasting only a moment. “Lily Vanderbilt. It’s a pleasure.”
“Naomi,” I say, my voice steady despite the frantic pounding in my chest.
“Naomi,” she muses. “How sweet. Jacob always did have a soft spot for charity cases.” She turns her attention back to him, her tone dripping with false concern. “Darling, are you well? This is all so… sudden. People are talking.”
“Let them talk,” Jacob says, his voice flat.
“Oh, they are,” Lily assures him. “They’re saying all sorts of fascinating things. For instance, I heard you’ve suddenly come into possession of a… child.” She looks back at me, her eyes gleaming. “A ready-made heir. How wonderfully efficient. It’s a classic strategy, I suppose. A bit common, but you can’t argue with the results.”
My blood runs cold. She’s not even trying to veil the insult. She’s saying it right to my face, in front of Jacob, in front of anyone who can hear.
“My son is not a strategy,” I say, my voice low and shaking with a rage I didn’t know I possessed.
Lily raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Of course not, dear. He’s a happy little accident. One that landed you the most eligible bachelor in the city. You must be very proud of your… work.” She gestures dismissively towards my simple dress. “I heard you were a baker. It must be so different, trading a flour-dusted apron for couture. Do you find it terribly difficult to adjust?”
I can feel Jacob’s stillness beside me. He isn’t moving. He isn’t speaking. He’s just watching, letting this happen. He threw me to the wolves, and this is their alpha.
“Some things are more difficult to adjust to than others,” I say, meeting her gaze directly.
Her smile widens, sharp and cruel. “I’m sure. Well, I must congratulate you, Jacob. It’s a bold move. Very… rustic.” She taps a long, red nail against her champagne flute. “Enjoy it while it lasts. Novelty has a tendency to wear off.”
With a final, dismissive glance at me, she turns and glides away, disappearing back into the crowd that swallows her up, leaving a trail of expensive perfume and poison in her wake.
The silence she leaves behind is deafening. I can feel the stares, the renewed whispers. I am no longer just a mystery. I’m a scandal. A gold digger who trapped the great Jacob Renner.
I turn to Jacob. “Are you going to say anything?” I demand, my voice a furious whisper.
“There’s nothing to say,” he replies, his expression a cold, hard mask. “Lily is inconsequential.”
“She just called me a whore and my son a bargaining chip in front of half the city, and you call that inconsequential?”
“Lower your voice,” he orders, his grip tightening on my back. “You’re making a scene.”
“I’m making a scene? She just…” I trail off, shaking my head in disbelief. I feel utterly, completely alone. He brought me here to be his show pony, and he won’t even protect me from the other animals in the ring.
Before I can say anything else, he lets go of me and steps onto a small, elevated platform at the end of the room. A hush falls over the crowd. Every eye is on him.
“Thank you all for coming tonight,” he begins, his voice resonating with power and authority. He commands the room effortlessly. “I’ve gathered you here to share some personal news. As some of you have just learned, I recently married.”
He pauses, letting the murmur ripple through the guests. His eyes find mine across the room. I feel pinned by his gaze, a butterfly on a board.
“Please join me in welcoming my wife, Naomi Renner.”
A polite, hesitant round of applause breaks out. It feels thin, obligatory. Jacob raises his glass. “To my wife. And to our son, Leo. To the future of the Renner family.”
He drinks. The crowd drinks. He is celebrating. He is cementing his victory, his acquisition. He just publicly claimed me and my son, and in the same night, allowed me to be publicly humiliated. I am his queen, and I am his pawn, all at once.
Lily Vanderbilt stands near the front, her champagne flute held high. Her lips are curved into a smile, but her eyes are full of promises. Promises of war.
The party continues, but I am hollowed out. I smile when I am supposed to smile. I nod when I am spoken to. I am a perfectly functioning automaton in a beautiful dress. But inside, something has shifted. The fear that has been my constant companion for the last few days is crystallizing into something harder, something colder.
It’s not just Jacob I have to survive. It’s his entire world. And his world has teeth.
