Chapter 49 Smile For The Cameras

Chapter 49 Smile For The Cameras
(AURIANNA’S POV)

The convoy rolls to a stop, and the entire street outside the venue lights up like someone just switched on a thousand suns.

Flashes explode everywhere. People are screaming. Camera shutters go off so fast they sound like machine guns.

My eyes widen. “Woah… Look at this crowd.”

Zayne just smirks like this is his natural habitat.

The chauffeur opens his door first. Zayne steps out and I exhale, grab my purse and follow.

The second my heels hit the pavement, the paps descend. They swarm around us like vultures spotting fresh meat.

“Oh my—I can’t see anything,” I mutter, shifting closer to Zayne instinctively. My hand finds the crook of his arm on its own as I tighten my fingers around my purse. The security detail forms a wall around us, ushering us forward.

“ZAYNE! ZAYNE!”

“This way!”

“Mr. Beaumont, look here!”

I wince at the loudness of the screams. My brain literally feels like it’s vibrating.

Once we're inside the venue, the noise finally muffles. The doors shut behind us, sealing out the chaos like a storm we barely escaped. I turn back, blinking rapidly.

“Wow,” I breathe. “I had no idea people could go that crazy over you.”

Zayne gives me a look like I just said the sky is green. “Seriously? Aurianna, I literally have like a hundred million followers on Instagram.”

“Well, for all I know, those could be bots.”

He gasps, and the look on his face tells me that he's genuinely offended.

“You think I would buy followers?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, Zayne. You’re a billionaire. There’s literally nothing in this world your money can’t buy.”

His lips curve into a slow, amused grin. “Are you included in that list?”

I stare at him with a bored, unimpressed look. “Ha-ha. Not funny. I’m not for sale.”

He sighs dramatically. “At least I tried.”

I roll my eyes again because it feels like my default setting around him at this point.

We approach the red carpet and my jaw practically drops to the ground.

Celebrities. Influencers. Photographers. Giant screens. Spotlights. The entire place looks like Hollywood had a baby with Paris Fashion Week.

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “Is that Rihanna?”

Zayne adjusts his jacket, smoothing the lapels with a smug smirk.

“You ready?” he asks.

“For what?”

But he’s already stepping onto the carpet. The photographers lose their minds instantly.

“Zayne! Zayne, over here!”

“One more, Mr. Beaumont!”

“Turn your head—perfect!”

He poses like he’s done this a thousand times… because he probably has.

And me?

I catch myself smiling like an idiot.

He turns to me from the middle of the red carpet and gestures for me to come.

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. I shake my head hard and wave both hands.

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

He finishes his last pose then walks right off the carpet, grabs my hand and says, “You’re coming with me.”

“What? No. Are you crazy?”

“Just come on.”

“I don’t want to—Zayne, wait—stop—”

But it's too late. He practically drags me onto the carpet.

Camera flashes explode in my face.

I freeze like a deer in headlights.

He poses. I stand there gripping my purse like it’s a life line.

Then to my utter shock and surprise, Zayne steps closer and wraps his arm around my waist. He pulls me in against him. I try to yank back, but through his smile he mutters, “Just behave and smile.”

Behave my ass… but fine.

I pose beside him like we’re some glammed-up power couple. I flip my hair, force a smile, and try not to squint as the flashes attack my retinas.

By the time we step off the red carpet, I’m blinking like an old man trying to read tiny text messages.

“Oh my God,” I groan. “I can’t see a damn thing.”

Zayne laughs at me.

I smack his chest. “This is not funny. How the hell are you even seeing right now?”

“People like me are immune,” he says smugly.

Before I can flip him off, I hear—

“Zee!”

We turn and see Cameron weaving through the crowd toward us, looking like he came straight from a royal ball.

His hair is slicked back in clean, glossy waves. He’s wearing a deep navy-blue suit with gold detailing along the lapels, golden cufflinks, and a matching gold pocket square. Even his shoes look like they’re worth more than some people's rent.

He pulls Zayne into a hug. “You made it, man.”

“Of course,” Zayne says, patting his back.

Cameron steps toward me for a hug, but I stick out my hand instead.

He laughs and shakes it. “Nice to see you again, Aurianna.”

“Nice to see you too.”

We all start walking together toward the main hall.

Cameron checks his watch. “The show starts in ten minutes. Honestly, Zee, I thought you weren’t gonna show.”

Zayne scoffs. “Cam, come on. You know I’d never miss this.”

I scan the area and note the guards at every corner, metal detectors at the entrance, cameras tucked into ceiling corners. But my instincts don’t relax.

“So,” I ask Cameron, “this place is secured, right? Like… really secured?”

His brows pinch together. “Yeah? Why?”

Before I can answer, Zayne cuts in, “She’s been paranoid before we even left the house. She thinks something could go wrong.”

Cameron huffs softly. “There’s security from the entrance to the exit. Even staff get screened before they’re let through. Plus, there's cameras everywhere. Nothing bad’s gonna happen, I assure you. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

My fingers tighten around my purse but I let out the breath I've been holding.

“Alright,” I say with a small smile. “If you say so.”

Cameron gestures ahead. “Come on. I reserved front-row seats for you two.”

Zayne beams.

I swallow hard, my nerves humming under my skin.

Front row, cameras everywhere, crowds, bright lights.

But underneath it all… there’s this quiet, nagging feeling that tonight isn’t going to go the way anyone expects.