A flash of bright light caught my eye.

Startled, I snapped back to reality, breaking away from Carter’s embrace. My heart raced as I glanced toward the source of the flash. There, hidden behind some bushes, was a reporter with a camera aimed directly at us.

My blood ran cold. I pulled away from Carter, my mind racing as everything clicked into place. The romantic setup, the secluded park, the carefully orchestrated evening—it was all for show. For the paparazzi.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath, stepping back. My pulse quickened, not from the moment we’d just shared, but from the anger boiling inside me.

Carter must have noticed the shift in my expression because he reached for me. “Lina, wait—”

Before he could finish, I slapped him. Hard.

“How dare you!” I spat, the sting in my hand echoing the pain in my chest. “You used me! This whole time, I thought... I thought you were being genuine!” I was practically shaking with rage. “I thought maybe, for once, you were showing me the real you, but no! It’s all just another one of your stupid games, isn’t it?”

His face hardened for a moment, and I caught a flicker of something—was it guilt? But it didn’t matter. Nothing he could say would make up for this.

“I hate being used, Carter,” I said, my voice cracking as the emotion welled up inside me. “You could’ve at least been honest with me, but instead, you turned me into some pawn in your media circus.”

“Lina—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off, my voice sharp. “I don’t want to hear your excuses.”