From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 19: The Paparazzi Swarm

Her wounded tone did the trick—shattered whatever ridiculous restraint Lucas had left.

Last night's rejection still lingered. The frustration hadn't gone anywhere.

Lucas stopped resisting. His hand found the small of her back and pulled her flush against him. He kissed her back, hard.

The sounds drifting through the half-open door—soft moans, wet kisses—slid into Riley's ears like poison.

She didn't need dinner anymore. That visual alone was enough to make her lose last night's meal.

How many times had this happened over the years? How many empty rooms, stolen moments, secret meetings while she played the loyal wife?

Three years. She'd been a fool for three years.

Riley walked back to her private room, face carved from ice.

The cold energy radiating off her made Sebastian look up the second she sat down.

"Something happen?"

Riley grabbed her cup and downed the cold liquid in one gulp, trying to push down the nausea crawling up her throat.

She forced a smile. "Nothing. Just spotted some garbage on the way back. Killed my appetite."

Then her eyes sharpened. She pulled out her phone and called a paparazzo she knew.

"Want an exclusive? Movie star Sophia. Private restaurant. Passionate meeting with her lover."

She hung up. The anger still simmered beneath her skin.

She was about to apologize to Sebastian—tell him this meal was cursed, they'd reschedule—when she noticed him watching her.

Really watching her. Something flickered in those deep eyes. Something she couldn't name.

Riley thought maybe he found her petty. She explained anyway, "Sorry. You probably think I'm ridiculous. I'm just... the type who holds grudges. When I see something like that, I can't let it go. I have to hit back."

Sebastian made a noncommittal sound. Then he propped his chin on his hand, lazy and amused. "So. One paparazzo. That enough?"

Riley blinked. "What do you mean?"

He scoffed softly. "You're thinking too small."

He pulled out his phone. Long fingers tapped out a quick message. Then he tossed it onto the table and looked at her—that faint smile turning just a little wicked.

"I always back my people. So I just called every paparazzo in this city for you. Think I went too far, fiancée?"

He drew out the last word, teasing.

Riley stared at him.

He'd helped her. Without hesitation.

She let a cold smile curve her lips. "Not at all. You're very thoughtful, Mr. Torres."

"Then it's about to get interesting around here."

Ten minutes later, the street outside was crawling with paparazzi.

Inside the neighboring private room, things had escalated.

Lucas and Sophia were tangled together—kissing, gripping, clothes disheveled. The air was thick with heat. They were seconds away from doing something truly reckless.

Sophia's phone shattered the moment.

Her agent. Screaming through the line.

"Where are you?! Tell me you're not out with a man right now! Every pap in the city is camped outside your restaurant! Are you trying to ruin your career? Hide. Now."

Sophia's blood ran cold. She scrambled off Lucas and rushed to the window. Lifted the curtain just enough to see.

Flashing lights. Cameras. A small army of photographers prowling the entrance.

A flash went off directly in front of her face.

She'd been photographed.

She jerked back, heart hammering.

And then she realized—from that angle, Lucas would be in the shot too.

"Oh God." Panic gripped her. She grabbed Lucas' arm. "Lucas—they're everywhere outside. We've been photographed. Look at me—"

Her lips were swollen. Red marks bloomed on her neck.

Anyone with eyes would know exactly what they'd been doing.

Lucas' face went dark. "How could you be so careless?" The gentleness was gone. Replaced by cold calculation.

Running wasn't an option. The paparazzi in this city were relentless. They'd wait all night if they had to.