Two hours later, Sophia's bedroom looked like a high-end boutique had exploded.
Dresses, suits, casual wear, shoes, accessories all carefully curated for someone who apparently had a completely different life than she'd had forty-eight hours ago.
"This one," Clarissa said, holding up a deep emerald dress. "For dinner with his grandfather tonight. It's elegant but not trying too hard. Shows you have taste but aren't intimidated by old money."
"There's a dinner tonight?" Sophia's stomach dropped.
"Mr. Sterling didn't mention it?" Clarissa's perfectly shaped eyebrow arched. "The grandfather wants to meet you before the wedding. High-pressure situation, but you'll be fine. Just be yourself the version of yourself that would catch a Sterling's attention, naturally."
After Clarissa and her team finally left, Sophia found Alexander in his home office, surrounded by multiple monitors displaying stock tickers and video conferences on mute.
"You didn't tell me about dinner tonight," she said from the doorway.
Alexander looked up, and something flickered in his expression when he saw her. She was wearing one of Clarissa's selections tailored black pants and a soft cream blouse that the stylist had insisted "elevated her architecture student aesthetic to architecture professional aesthetic."
"I was going to mention it at breakfast." He gestured to the chair across from his desk. "My grandfather called this morning. He wants to meet you before the wedding. He's… particular."
"Particular how?"
"He'll try to determine if you're after my money, if you're genuine, if you're strong enough to handle the Sterling family expectations." Alexander's jaw tightened. "He's protective. He saw what Vanessa did to me."
This was the first time he'd voluntarily mentioned his ex. Sophia sat down, leaning forward. "What did she do?"
Alexander was quiet for a long moment, his fingers drumming once on the desk before going still. "We were engaged for eight months. I thought she loved me or at least, I thought she loved something real about me, not just the money and status. I was wrong."
"What happened?"
"I found her in my bed with my business partner." His voice was flat, emotionless, but Sophia could see the tension in his shoulders. "They'd been planning to marry after he convinced me to sign over a portion of Sterling Industries to him.
She was the distraction while he positioned himself to take control. I caught them two weeks before our wedding."
Sophia's chest ached. "Alexander, I'm so sorry."
"Don't be. I learned a valuable lesson about trust and contracts. Which is why our arrangement works. No pretense of love, no room for betrayal. Just honest terms both parties understand."
"Is that really what you want? To live your whole life without trusting anyone?"
His gray eyes met hers, sharp and assessing. "I trust people to act in their own self-interest. It's the most reliable thing about humanity.
You want money for your brother. I want to keep my company. Clear motivations, clear outcomes."
"That's incredibly sad."
"That's incredibly realistic." He stood, moving to the window. "My grandfather won't see it that way. He still believes in true love, soulmates, all of that fairy tale nonsense. So tonight, we need to convince him we're the real thing."
"How do we do that when we barely know each other?"
Alexander turned back to her. "Then we should fix that. Tell me something true, Sophia. Something not in your file."
She blinked at the sudden shift. "What do you want to know?"
"Anything. Everything. What makes you happy? What do you fear? What do you dream about?"
It felt like a test, but also like genuine curiosity. Sophia took a breath.
"I dream about buildings," she said softly. "Spaces that make people feel something. My parents used to take me and Ethan to the city when we were kids, and I'd stare at the skyscrapers and wonder about the person who imagined them first.
Who decided how tall, how much glass, how the light would fall. I wanted to be that person."
"Why architecture specifically?"
"Because it's permanent. My parents died in a car accident sudden, random, meaningless. But a building? A building lasts. It affects people's lives every day. It means something."
She looked down at her hands. "Maybe I just wanted to create something that wouldn't disappear."
The silence stretched between them. When Sophia looked up, Alexander was watching her with an intensity that made her breath catch.
"My turn?" she asked.
"Fair is fair."
"Why do you care so much about Sterling Industries? It's not just the money. There are easier ways to be wealthy."
Alexander returned to his desk, but he didn't sit. "My father built that company from almost nothing. He was brilliant, visionary, but he died when I was sixteen. Heart attack at his desk, working on a deal that would have changed everything.
My uncle tried to take control, said I was too young, that I'd run it into the ground."
"But you didn't."
"I worked like a man possessed. Graduated early, MBA at twenty-two, forced my way onto the board at twenty-three. Every decision I've made since then has been about proving I could protect what my father built. That I wouldn't let his legacy disappear."
He met her eyes. "Maybe we're not so different. Both trying to make sure the people we love aren't forgotten."
Sophia felt something shift between them a recognition, a connection she hadn't expected. This wasn't just a cold businessman. This was someone carrying the same kind of grief she knew too well.
"Your grandfather," she said carefully. "He knew your father?"
"He's my mother's father. He and my dad were close. He sees me as the last piece of his daughter and son-in-law left in the world."
Alexander's voice softened. "He's dying, Sophia. Cancer. He has maybe six months, and he wants to see me settled before he goes. He wants to believe I won't be alone."
"So this isn't just about the inheritance."
"No. Though I'd never admit that to him. He'd use it against me, push harder for something real." A slight smile. "He's manipulative when he wants to be. Where do you think I learned it?"
"So tonight, we convince a dying man who loves you that we're in love."
"Yes."
"No pressure or anything."
Alexander's smile grew. "You'll be fine. You convinced me to trust you with a year of my life. One dinner should be easy in comparison."
Sophia wasn't so sure, but she nodded anyway. "What's he like? Your grandfather?"
"Sharp. Funny. Impossible to fool. He built his fortune in real estate and has a sixth sense for when people are lying." Alexander paused.
"Be honest with him. Not about the contract, obviously, but about everything else. He'll respect that more than perfect answers."
"And if he doesn't believe us?"
"Then we'll have to be more convincing."
Something heated flickered in Alexander's gaze. "Which might require some… practice."
"Practice?"
He moved around the desk, stopping in front of her. "We need to be comfortable with each other. Touching, standing close, the kinds of things real couples do without thinking." He held out his hand. "May I?"
Sophia placed her hand in his, her heart suddenly racing. He pulled her to her feet, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
"Like this," he said quietly. His free hand settled on her waist, warm even through the fabric of her blouse. "Comfortable. Natural. As if we've done this a thousand times."
They were inches apart. Sophia could see the details of his face the slight stubble he'd missed shaving, the tiny scar on his chin, the way his pupils dilated slightly as he looked at her.
"How am I doing?" she whispered.
"You're shaking."
"You're very close."
"We'll be closer than this at the wedding. Dancing, kissing for the guests." His thumb moved in a small circle on her waist, an unconscious gesture that sent electricity through her. "We need to make this believable, Sophia."
"I know. I just" She took a breath. "I'm not used to this. To being touched like this."
Something shifted in his expression. "When was your last relationship?"
"Three years ago. Right after my parents died. I didn't have time for dating after that, not with Ethan and trying to build my career." She made herself maintain eye contact. "What about you? Besides Vanessa?"
"No one. Not in two years." His voice was rough. "I told myself it was easier that way. Safer."
They stood there, barely breathing, the air between them charged with something neither wanted to name. This was supposed to be practice, just acting, but it felt dangerously real.
Alexander's phone buzzed, breaking the moment. He stepped back, releasing her, and Sophia felt the loss of his warmth like a physical thing.
"That's Margaret," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Confirming the reservation for tonight. Seven PM at The Riverside. Jacket required, though obviously Clarissa has you covered."
"Alexander"
"We should both get some work done before tonight." He was already moving back behind his desk, retreating into professionalism. "I'll have the driver ready at six-thirty. My grandfather is always early."
Dismissed. Sophia nodded and left, her hand still tingling where he'd held it, her waist still warm from his touch.
In her room, she pulled out her laptop and tried to focus on work. She had three project proposals to finish, emails to answer, a career to maintain. But her mind kept drifting back to the way Alexander had looked at her, the vulnerability in his voice when he talked about his father.
This was just a contract. A business arrangement. She couldn't let herself forget that.
But god, it was getting harder to remember.