Ava stood in front of the tall glass building that could probably fit three of her apartments inside. She looked up at it and groaned.
"He doesn't need a wife, he needs a museum ticket," she muttered, clutching her small handbag like it could protect her from the world.
She had spent the last one hour pacing in her room, debating whether to go or not. Ethan Blackwood, her so-called accidental husband, had invited her to dinner. Well, more like ordered her. His exact words had been, "Come over tonight. 7 pm sharp. Don't make me send my driver."
So here she was, standing in front of his building like a lost delivery girl.
Taking a deep breath, Ava stepped into the lobby. The marble floors were so shiny she was afraid her shoes might squeak. A chandelier hung above her like something out of a royal palace.
The receptionist gave her a polite smile. "Miss Ava? Mr. Blackwood is expecting you. Penthouse level."
"Of course he is," Ava muttered, forcing a smile.
She rode the elevator all the way up, her stomach doing flips. When the door opened, she stepped into a hallway that led directly to one massive door. Before she could knock, the door swung open.
Ethan stood there, looking annoyingly perfect in a simple black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was messy in a way that was clearly intentional.
"You're late," he said flatly.
"It's 7:05!" Ava defended.
"Exactly. Late." He stepped aside. "Come in."
Ava marched past him, her chin up. "You know, normal people say hello."
"I'm not normal," Ethan replied casually, closing the door.
His apartment no, his palace was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed off the city skyline, and everything looked like it had been designed by someone who had too much money and not enough hobbies. A long dining table was set up with candles and wine.
"Are we having dinner," Ava asked cautiously, "or am I about to be sacrificed?"
Ethan smirked. "Depends on how this evening goes."
She shot him a glare but sat down anyway. The food was already waiting: pasta, steak, salad, things Ava only ever saw on cooking shows.
"Eat," Ethan said as he poured wine into her glass.
She hesitated, then took a bite. Her eyes widened despite herself. "Okay… this is good. Did you cook this?"
"I don't cook."
"Of course you don't," Ava muttered. "Why lift a spoon when you can lift your credit card?"
He smirked, clearly entertained. "At least you're honest."
For a few minutes, they ate in silence, though Ava kept sneaking glances at him. He ate calmly, like he had all the time in the world, while she shoveled food in like she hadn't eaten in three days.
Finally, Ava put down her fork and folded her arms. "Alright. Why am I here? Because I'm sure you didn't invite me over just to watch me eat your expensive steak."
Ethan leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "I need you to do something for me."
Ava groaned. "Oh no. This is the part where you ask me to sell my soul, isn't it?"
He ignored her sarcasm. "My family wants to meet you."
Ava blinked. "You told me"
"They heard I'm engaged."
"Engaged?" Ava nearly choked on her wine. "We're not engaged, Ethan. We're not even married. Well technically married, but it's a mistake! A typo!"
"My family doesn't know that," Ethan said smoothly. "And I want it to stay that way."
Ava slammed her hand on the table. "Are you insane? You want me to meet your family and pretend like I'm your fiancée? Do you hear yourself?"
"Yes," he said simply. "And you're going to do it."
Ava laughed in disbelief. "No. No way. Absolutely not. I have enough problems already without pretending to be your… your trophy fiancée."
Ethan leaned forward, his voice calm but firm. "It's more like a contract. Temporary. My family has been pressuring me to settle down for years. They think I'm too busy with work, too cold, too uninterested. If they see I'm engaged, they'll stop bothering me. You help me, and in return…"
"In return what?" she asked suspiciously.
"You'll get peace," he said. "No gossip at the office. No HR questions. No reporters sniffing around. I will give you anything you want. I'll make sure of it."
Ava stared at him like he had grown two heads. "So basically, you want me to be your… fake wife."
"Fake fiancée," he corrected, lips twitching with amusement.
"Oh, excuse me, what a huge difference," Ava shot back. "Do you hear yourself? This is insane. Totally insane."
Ethan shrugged. "You'll survive."
"No, I won't! You don't know my family. If they even get a hint of this, my mom will be picking wedding colors by tomorrow!"
Ethan smirked. "Then maybe you shouldn't tell them."
Ava groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Why me? Why not some model, or an actress, or one of those women who actually want to marry you?"
"Because," Ethan said softly, "you're the only one who accidentally already did."
Ava froze, lowering her hands. His words hung in the air, and suddenly she wasn't sure if he was teasing or being serious.
"Ethan…" she began carefully, "you're out of your mind."
He leaned back with a smile. "Maybe. But admit it you're considering it."
"I am not!" she said quickly, though her voice wasn't as strong as she wanted.
"Yes, you are," he replied confidently. "Because you know saying yes will make your life easier than saying no."
Ava stood up, pacing the room. "This is madness. Absolute madness."
"And yet…" Ethan's voice was calm, almost amused, "…you haven't walked out."
She spun on him, glaring. "Because the food is good!"
He chuckled, and Ava's cheeks burned. Why did he have to be so annoyingly calm? Why did he look at her like that, like he was always three steps ahead?
Finally, she sighed and collapsed back into her chair. "You're impossible."
"I'll take that as a yes," Ethan said smoothly.
"It's not a yes!" Ava snapped. "It's a… maybe."
Ethan's smirk widened. "Good enough."
Ava groaned again, pressing her forehead to the table. "What have I gotten myself into?"
The rest of the evening was a blur of Ethan calmly sipping wine while Ava tried to convince herself she hadn't just agreed to the craziest idea of her life. By the time she left, her head was spinning not just from the wine, but from the realization that somehow, someway, she had been roped into pretending to be Ethan Blackwood's fiancée.
And the worst part?
A tiny part of her was curious to see what would happen next.