Page 35 of Pucking My Bad Boy Boss
The urge to lash out at Dom for this over-the-top charade is almost overwhelming. I want to pull him aside, demand an explanation for turning our controlled, discreet proposal into this... this carnival. But with every step I take toward him, under the scrutinizing eyes of the media, I'm acutely aware of the role I have to play. Getting angry now would only serve to throw fuel on the fire of speculation that's about to engulf us.
As I take it all in, a realization dawns on me. This over-the-top proposal, set against such a vibrant and public backdrop, is going to make waves—fast. News like this spreads like wildfire, especially in today’s digital age. It hits me that my parents, always keen on following my life closely, will find out through some social media feed or a news article before I have the chance to explain.
Sam, who's always been my confidant, will hear about my 'engagement' in a way I never intended. And Jenna, my best friend who's been with me through thick and thin, will learn about this significant moment in my life from a source other than myself. The thought makes me uneasy. This isn’t how I wanted my loved ones to find out about something so important, even if it is a ruse.
As I approach Dom, my mind races to align my expression with the narrative we need to present. I plaster on a look of surprised delight, a mask that feels as heavy as lead but necessary under the circumstances. He's all smiles, the epitome of the dashing fiancé, and as he spots me, his grin widens.
"Isabella, my love!" he exclaims, loud enough for the microphones to catch his words.
Before I can react, he sweeps me into his arms, and I’m caught in his embrace. His arm wraps firmly around my waist, and he pulls me in for a kiss that the crowd responds to with a collective cheer. For a moment, I'm too stunned to react, my brain still processing this unexpected turn of events. But then, almost against my will, I find myself melting into the kiss.
It’s infuriating how natural it feels, how easily my body responds to his. Our lips move in sync, and for a fleeting second, I forget the cameras, the reporters, the prying eyes of the public. It's just Dom and me, in a bubble of our own making.
Dom whispers in my ear, "You're a natural at this," his breath warm against my skin.
I manage a tight smile, still reeling from the kiss. "You're not too bad yourself," I reply, aware of the cameras still on us, capturing every exchange, every glance.
But as quickly as the moment envelops us, reality crashes back in. We break the kiss, and I’m left reeling, my heart pounding in my chest. It's a mix of anger, shock, and an unsettling flutter of something that dangerously resembles genuine affection.
Dom turns to the crowd, his arm still possessively around me. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are so excited to share this moment with you," he announces, his voice booming with practiced charisma.
I force myself to smile, to nod, to play the part of the overjoyed fiancée. My mind is a whirl of emotions—anger at Dom for his unilateral decision to turn our engagement into a spectacle.
As Dom strides confidently onto the stage, his presence magnifies, drawing the crowd into his orbit. He's in his element, basking in the attention, his charisma palpable even from several feet away. Standing there, watching him command the audience, I'm struck by the stark contrast between us.
I've always preferred the strategy rooms, the quiet corners where decisions are made and plans are laid out. Not Dom. He thrives under the spotlight, fueled by the energy of the crowd.
Dom stands confidently at the podium, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he surveys the crowd before locking his eyes with mine. There's a sparkle in them, a hint of the showman ready to captivate his audience.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he begins, his voice smooth and engaging, "today I'm not just the owner of the Silver Blades. Today, I'm the luckiest man in Seattle, because I get to talk about the love of my life, Isabella Carrington."
He pauses, letting the words hang in the air, and the crowd shifts with murmurs of anticipation.
"Isabella is a force to be reckoned with. As a manager, she's unparalleled," he continues, his gaze still fixed on me. "Her intellect, her dedication to the sport, her innovative strategies on and off the ice... these are just a few of the qualities that make her one of the most respected professionals in the league."
A blush creeps up my cheeks, and I have to remind myself to keep up the act, to look bashfully pleased rather than embarrassingly exposed.
"And let's not forget her remarkable ability to keep me on my toes," he adds, a playful note creeping into his voice. "It's no small feat, keeping up with Dom Steele, but Isabella does it with grace and, might I add, an incredible sense of style."
The crowd chuckles, and I roll my eyes, though I can't help but smile at his charm.
"But beyond her professional prowess," Dom continues, his tone softening, "Isabella is a woman of extraordinary character. She's passionate, fierce, and deeply loyal. She brings out the best in those around her, myself included."
He steps away from the podium, his movements fluid and assured as he approaches me. There's a sincerity in his approach that gives weight to his words.
"Isabella," he says, looking into my eyes, "you are not only stunningly beautiful, but you've also captured my heart with your wit, your strength, and your unwavering commitment to excellence. You inspire me every day, and I'm honored to stand beside you, not just as a partner in business, but as a partner in life."
I feel a warmth spread through me at his words, a response that's as unexpected as it is unsettling. He's playing the part flawlessly, but there's an undercurrent of truth that tugs at something deep within me.
"And now that Isabella is making her mark with the StarPucks, we don't need to hide our love any longer," he declares, his voice swelling with a mix of pride and affection.
The crowd is hanging onto his every word, and I can sense the story we're crafting taking root in their minds. It's a perfect narrative, one that's sure to dominate the headlines.
Before I can react, he pulls out a ring box, opening it to reveal a diamond ring that's nothing short of ostentatious. The stone is massive, almost comically so, and I can't help but think it's over-the-top, even for a staged proposal.
He drops to one knee, and suddenly all eyes are on me. The moment feels surreal, as if I'm an actor in a play I never auditioned for. Dom looks up at me, his expression a blend of showmanship and something softer, something more genuine.
"Isabella Carrington," Dom begins, his voice echoing clearly across the hushed crowd. "Will you marry me?"
