The rain tapped softly against the skyscraper windows, blurring the city lights into golden streaks. I stood in the middle of the most luxurious office I had ever seen, my shoes sinking slightly into the thick carpet, my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides.
I was not supposed to be here.
People like me didn't walk into buildings owned by billionaires. We didn't stand in front of desks that cost more than my entire house. We certainly didn't meet men like Kael Nightingale.
He sat behind the desk, one hand loosely folded over the other, his gaze calm and unreadable. Dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and his eyes were a sharp, cool shade of blue — the kind that made you feel like he was seeing straight through you. He was beautiful, painfully so, but in a distant, untouchable way. Like a statue in a museum.
I'd heard the rumors. Cold. Ruthless. Workaholic. Never involved in scandals. Never seen with anyone.
Until today.
"Take a seat," he said, his voice low and smooth, without a single trace of warmth.
I sat down carefully, my back straight, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
"Mr. Nightingale… you asked to see me," I said quietly. My name is Leo. Just Leo. Ordinary, broke, desperate Leo.
He nodded once, then pushed a single white folder across the desk toward me. The paper was thick, expensive.
"Inside is a contract," he said. "Read it carefully. Every condition is listed clearly."
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
The first line made my breath catch.
MARRIAGE CONTRACT
I froze.
Marriage?
I kept reading, my eyes widening with every line.
- This marriage will be in name only.
- The parties will live in the same residence but occupy separate bedrooms.
- The parties will act as a loving couple in public, family events, and social gatherings.
- No romantic or physical relationship is required beyond basic, polite affection for show.
- Either party may not fall in love, pursue emotional attachment, or disrupt the other's personal life.
- The contract will last two years. After that, a quiet, peaceful divorce will take place.
- In return for fulfilling these terms, Leo Hayes will receive full financial compensation: all family debts cleared, medical bills paid, and a secure home.
I lifted my head, staring at him in complete shock.
"You… you want to marry me?" I whispered. "Fake marry me?"
Kael leaned back slightly, his expression still unchanging.
"My family is forcing me into an arranged marriage," he explained, his tone flat, like he was talking about a business project. "This is the only way to avoid it. I need someone responsible, quiet, who won't cause trouble or demand anything beyond the agreement."
His eyes flicked over me, as if judging whether I was worth the trouble.
"And you need the money."
It wasn't a question. It was a fact.
My mom was sick. The hospital bills were piling up. We were going to lose our apartment. I'd been working three jobs, skipping meals, begging for help — and nothing was working.
This contract… it would save us.
But it meant marrying a man I'd just met. Pretending to be in love. Living a lie.
"Why me?" I asked, my voice small. "There are hundreds of people who would do this."
"Most of them want fame, money, or access to my life," he answered coldly. "You don't. You're just… scared. And honest."
He paused, then added the line that would stick with me forever.
"One rule, Leo. Don't fall in love with me. That is not part of the deal. It will only make things painful."
Love.
The word felt ridiculous in that moment. How could anyone fall in love with someone so distant, so closed off, so completely untouchable?
I stared at the contract again.
Every word was a promise — not of love, but of survival.
I picked up the pen he had laid beside the paper. My hand was no longer shaking.
I signed my name:
Leo Hayes
Kael watched me, then took the pen and signed his own name beneath mine. His handwriting was strong, neat, final.
When he closed the contract, the sound felt like a door closing on my old life.
"We'll get the marriage license tomorrow," he said. "A small ceremony, only for legal purposes. No guests. No fuss."
No wedding. No flowers. No vows that meant anything.
Just paper.
Just a deal.
I stood up, still feeling dazed.
"Thank you," I whispered, even though I wasn't sure if I meant it.
Kael's gaze softened — just for a split second, so quickly I almost thought I imagined it.
"Don't thank me yet," he said. "We're not married. And we're not anything."
He stood, too, tall and overwhelming.
"Tomorrow, Leo. We become husbands."
On paper.
The door closed behind me, and I leaned against the wall outside, breathing heavily.
I had just signed my life away.
For money. For family. For a future.
And somewhere deep inside me, a quiet, terrified voice whispered:
What if the paper vows turn into real love?