Nora's POV
What the hell did you just do? I yank my arm free from his grip, my voice shaking with rage.
Dominic Ashford—CEO, billionaire, the man whose company I've been illegally investigating looks at me like I'm a mildly interesting science experiment. I married you. Weren't you paying attention?
You can't just—this isn't legal! I didn't consent!
You said 'I do.' He tilts his head. Witnesses heard it. The state of New York heard it. Your signature is on the marriage certificate.
My stomach lurches. I'll tell them it was a mistake. An accident.
Will you? His smile sharpens. And while you're explaining that to the clerk, should I mention to the authorities how you've been hacking into my company's financial systems? Accessing confidential files? Three weeks of corporate espionage is a serious crime, Ms. Chen. Or should I say, Mrs. Ashford?
The world tilts. He knows. He knows everything.
How did you
Did you really think I wouldn't notice someone digging through my company's records? He sounds almost disappointed. I've known since day three. I've been watching you very carefully.
My mind races. If he knew, why didn't he stop me? Why didn't he have me arrested? Why this insane charade at City Hall?
What do you want? My voice comes out smaller than I'd like.
Walk with me. It's not a request.
He moves down the City Hall steps with the confidence of someone who owns the world. I follow because what choice do I have? My legs feel like jelly. This morning I woke up broke and desperate. Now I'm married to a billionaire who could destroy what's left of my life with one phone call.
We stop at a black car. The driver opens the door without being asked. Dominic gestures for me to get in.
I'm not getting in a car with you.
Then we'll talk here. He leans against the car, arms crossed. Your choice. But you might want privacy for this conversation.
People stream past us. Tourists. Families. Normal people living normal lives. Not people who just accidentally married strangers.
I get in the car.
Dominic slides in beside me. The door closes. Suddenly the space feels too small, too intimate. He smells like expensive cologne and danger.
You're investigating Marcus Trent, he says. Not a question. A statement.
My breath catches. I don't know what you're
Please. He waves a hand dismissively. Don't insult my intelligence. Marcus Trent, my CFO. Your ex-fiancé. The man who destroyed your journalism career six months ago when you tried to expose his embezzlement from that nonprofit. His family buried the story and made you look like a lying, vengeful ex. Am I missing anything?
Tears burn my eyes. I hate that he knows. I hate that he's right.
He ruined me, I whisper. Everyone believed him because his family has money and connections. I lost my job. My reputation. Everything.
I know. His voice softens slightly. And now you're working as a paralegal at Morrison & Chase, barely making rent. You have ninety thousand in student debt, eighteen thousand in credit card debt, and as of this morning, an eviction notice.
Horror floods through me. How do you
I told you. I've been watching. He studies me with those calculating gray eyes. You've been accessing my company files because Marcus works for me now. You're building a case against him. Trying to prove he's stealing from me too.
He is stealing from you! The words burst out. I've found transactions that don't make sense, money moving to offshore accounts, contracts with shell companies
I know.
I stop. What?
I know Marcus is embezzling. I've known for two months. Dominic's jaw tightens. What I don't have is proof that will hold up in court. He's very good at covering his tracks.
My mind spins. Then why haven't you fired him?
Because I want him in prison, not just unemployed. I want everything he's stolen, everyone he's worked with, the entire operation exposed. His eyes harden. And that takes time. Evidence. The kind of evidence you've been trying to find.
Understanding crashes over me. You've been letting me investigate.
Yes.
Why?
Because you're motivated. Thorough. And you have something I don't. He pauses. Personal knowledge of how Marcus operates. You know his patterns. His weaknesses.
So you used me.
I gave you the opportunity to prove you were right about him. He leans forward. Everyone thought you were lying. I'm offering you the chance to prove them all wrong.
Hope flickers in my chest. Dangerous, stupid hope.
What does this have to do with marrying me? I demand.
My grandmother is dying. The words are flat, emotionless. Cancer. Stage four. She has months, maybe weeks. Her final wish is to see me married before she dies.
So hire an actress. Find a real girlfriend. Don't trap random strangers at City Hall!
I don't have time for dating. I don't trust actresses not to sell stories to tabloids. And you're not random. He pulls out his phone, shows me a text message. This morning, Marcus sent this to you.
My blood runs cold.
Stay away from Ashford Industries, Nora. Keep digging and you'll regret it. I destroyed you once. I can do it again.
How did you get my texts?
Not important. What's important is that Marcus is escalating. He knows you're investigating. He's threatening you. Dominic's voice hardens. And unlike last time, he won't just destroy your career. He'll do worse.
Fear crawls up my spine. What do you mean worse?
Marcus has been stealing from me for eighteen months. Millions of dollars. Do you really think he'll let you expose him without a fight? Dominic leans closer. He's dangerous, Nora. More dangerous than you realize.
Then I'll go to the police
With what evidence? Files you obtained illegally? He shakes his head. You'd be arrested for hacking before Marcus faced a single charge.
Trapped. I'm completely trapped.
Here's my proposal, Dominic says. You stay married to me. Play the role of my wife for six months. Make my grandmother happy. In exchange, I give you full access to Ashford Industries files—legal access. My resources. My protection from Marcus.
Protection?
As my wife, you'll live in my penthouse. Security. Lawyers. Everything you need to stay safe while we build the case against him together. His eyes lock on mine. When we have enough evidence to bury Marcus, we'll turn it over to the FBI. He goes to prison. Your name gets cleared. Then we annul the marriage and go our separate ways.
It's insane. Completely insane.
But it's also everything I've been fighting for. Justice. Proof. Safety.
Why should I trust you? I whisper.
Dominic reaches into his jacket. Pulls out a folded piece of paper. Hands it to me.
I unfold it with shaking hands.
It's the marriage certificate. Our marriage certificate. His signature bold and certain. Mine shaky and confused.
Because right now, Mrs. Ashford, I'm the only person standing between you and Marcus destroying what's left of your life. His voice is cold, final. Clock's ticking. What's it going to be?
My phone buzzes. I pull it out with trembling fingers.
Another text from Marcus: I saw you at City Hall today. Interesting choice of companion. We need to talk. Soon.
My heart stops.
He saw us. He knows.
I look up at Dominic, fear and fury warring inside me.
How soon can I move into the penthouse?