📖 Chapter One: The Deal
The rain came down in sheets as Emma Blake clutched her umbrella, its ribs trembling in the wind like her resolve. She stood at the entrance of Wolfe Enterprises, the glass tower slicing through the gray skies of Manhattan like a blade. Her fingers tightened around her worn leather folder—the one holding her mother's hospital bills and the eviction notice from her landlord.
She didn't belong here. Not in a place where marble floors gleamed like mirrors and the scent of power hung in the air like expensive cologne.
But she didn't have a choice.
Inside the 49th floor, Alexander Wolfe didn't glance up as his assistant escorted her in. He stood tall behind a desk that screamed authority, dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. Everything about him was sharp—his jawline, his tone, his eyes.
"I assume you read the terms," he said, his voice low and smooth, like the calm before a storm.
Emma nodded, trying to keep her voice steady. "Yes. A one-year contract marriage. Public appearances as your wife. No romantic expectations. A five-million-dollar settlement at the end."
He finally looked at her. Hazel eyes met icy blue.
"You're not what I expected," he said simply.
"Neither are you," she replied, surprising even herself.
He smirked—barely. "You're doing this for money?"
"I'm doing this to keep my mother alive."
There was no shame in her voice, only fierce determination.
That seemed to interest him.
The contract was simple, legally airtight. No intimacy, no interference in each other's lives. A strict public schedule of appearances, and total discretion.
He handed her a pen.
"If you sign this, there's no going back."
Emma stared at the paper in front of her. Marriage, a word she had only associated with love and lifelong companionship, now reduced to ink on paper.
She signed.
He did too.
And just like that, Emma Blake became Emma Wolfe.
The silence that followed was heavy, final.
"You'll move into my penthouse tomorrow," he said. "My driver will pick you up at eight."
She nodded, heart pounding.
As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her.
"One more thing, Emma."
She looked back.
"Don't fall in love with me."
She didn't answer. But in that moment, as the elevator doors closed, something deep inside her whispered:
Too late.