CHAPTER TWO – THE ARRANGEMENT
The next morning came too quickly. I barely slept. My mind kept replaying yesterday's events, the calm way Mr. Grey had spoken, the firm tone that left no room for emotion. By the time the first light slipped through my curtains, I was already dressed for work, though I didn't remember getting ready.
I rode the elevator up to the top floor of Grey Enterprises with shaky hands. My reflection on the mirrored wall showed someone I barely recognized—tired eyes, pale lips, and a strange kind of fear that looked too familiar.
When I reached his office, his assistant, Claire, gave me a polite smile. "He's expecting you, Miss Brown."
The moment I stepped in, I felt the temperature drop. Anderson Grey stood by the window, his back turned to me, the city stretching endlessly beneath him. He didn't move when he spoke.
"Did you bring the signed copy?"
"Yes, sir," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
He turned then, his expression unreadable. "Good."
I handed the file to him, and he flipped through it with the ease of someone reviewing a simple business deal—not a woman's future.
"The lawyer will finalize the notarization this afternoon," he said. "Once that's done, you'll move into my penthouse. You'll be expected to accompany me to a dinner tomorrow night. Wear something formal."
I nodded, unsure if I was breathing properly.
He paused, his eyes scanning my face. "You're free to tell your mother you're engaged. But remember the terms, this stays between us and whoever needs to know. No one else."
"Yes, sir."
His voice softened just slightly, almost unnoticeable. "You'll be compensated monthly. The account details are included in the contract."
For a second, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes, maybe pity, maybe curiosity. But it was gone before I could be sure.
When I left his office, the weight of the decision sank in completely. I wasn't just signing a paper. I was stepping into a cage, one that looked like luxury but still felt like chains.
That evening, I went back to the hospital. My mother was awake, her face brighter than the night before.
"Lizzy, you look different," she said softly, trying to sit up.
I forced a small smile. "Maybe it's the light, Mom."
She studied me for a moment. "No… it's something else. You look… relieved."
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "The bills will be taken care of. I found a way."
Her eyes widened. "Lizzy, what do you mean? Did you get a loan?"
"Something like that," I said quickly, reaching for her hand. "Please, don't worry. Just focus on getting better."
She smiled faintly, her weak fingers squeezing mine. "You've always been strong, my Lizzy girl. Your father would be proud."
Her words stung, but I didn't let it show.
When she fell asleep again, I stood by the window, staring at the quiet city lights outside. I whispered to myself, "You'll be fine, Mom. I'll make sure of it."
By the next evening, I stood in front of the mirror in a sleek black gown I could never afford on my own. It was one of the outfits sent to my apartment earlier that morning—apparently chosen by Mr. Grey's personal stylist. Everything about it screamed money, class, and control.
The car arrived at exactly seven. The driver opened the door for me with a polite nod, and my nerves twisted as I slid into the back seat.
When I arrived at the penthouse, it took my breath away. Glass walls, marble floors, gold accents—it was like stepping into another world.
Anderson Grey was already there, standing near the grand piano, his tie loosened slightly, a glass of wine in his hand.
"You're early," he said without turning.
"I didn't want to keep you waiting," I replied.
He faced me then, eyes lingering for a moment. "Good. You'll need to get used to that."
He walked closer, stopping just a few steps away. "You look… decent."
I raised an eyebrow before I could stop myself. "Decent?"
One corner of his mouth curved slightly. "You'll learn I don't hand out compliments easily."
"I see."
He turned away again, almost amused. "Our dinner tomorrow is with the board and a few investors. You'll smile when necessary, speak when spoken to, and remember what's at stake."
I nodded. "Understood."
His tone shifted. "I had a background check done."
My stomach dropped. "You what?"
He glanced at me. "It's standard procedure. I needed to know who I'm signing my name beside. You have no debts apart from your mother's hospital bills, no criminal record, and no known relationships. Impressive, Miss Brown."
My cheeks burned. "You could have just asked."
"I don't ask," he said simply. "I confirm."
There it was again—the man behind the mask. Cold. Calculated. But there was something else too, buried deep behind that wall of control.
He handed me a small velvet box. "Wear this tomorrow."
Inside was a diamond ring , simple but stunning. The kind of ring that could silence a room.
I stared at it for a long time. "It's beautiful."
"It's convincing," he corrected.
I placed it on my finger. It fit perfectly, almost too perfectly.
Later that night, when I stepped into the guest room, exhaustion hit me like a wave. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my reflection. The woman in the mirror looked elegant, calm, even strong but inside, she was trembling.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," I said softly.
Claire, his assistant, peeked in. "Mr. Grey asked me to drop this off." She handed me an envelope.
"What is it?"
"Tomorrow's schedule. And a note."
When she left, I opened the paper. The schedule was strict, times, locations, instructions. But the note was short.
"Don't forget why you are here, play your card well and everyone will be happy"
My chest tightened. I wasn't sure if it was a warning or advice.
I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the city lights spilling faintly through the curtains. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear his voice from the other room low, firm, talking on the phone about business deals worth millions.
And I wondered if he ever thought of anything else.
Just as I began to drift off, my phone buzzed. It was an unknown number.
When I answered, a male voice whispered, "Elizabeth Brown?"
"Yes… who's this?"
There was silence. Then, "Don't trust Anderson Grey. You don't know what you've gotten yourself into."
The line went dead.
I froze, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
For a moment, I just sat there, gripping the phone, staring at the dark window that reflected my own terrified face.
And that was when I realized,
the deal I signed might have saved my mother's life,
but it might also have chained me to something far more dangerous.