On the other side of London, Adrian Hale drowned his head with loud music from the club, gulping down some whiskey. He had his entertainers pulling off stunts on the pole, wringing their bodies to the rhythm of the music. Half-naked, drunk ladies lay around him, caressing and seducing him. He knew he shouldn't be here, but this was the place he found comfort.
His mind wandered, yet again, to Elena Ward. He had read the financial statements of The Ward Gallery, and it was weeks from implosion. Still, she chose to reject his offer.
His phone suddenly buzzed. An article with a picture of him walking into a hotel with two drunk blondes was getting viral. The caption read, "Adrian, the grandson and heir to the Hale Dynasty, is still seen frolicking at the age of 33. Maybe responsibility doesn't run in the family."
Articles like this no longer fazed Adrian, aside from the fact that they now stood against him and his birthright.
The board of directors was now opposed to having a bachelor as chairman, hinting at the possibility of ousting him. With him out of the position, Sir Alistair Moretti, his grandfather's most loyal friend, with some bit of convincing of the board members, becomes the chairman.
His grandfather, Malcolm, had given him the only way out: Get married, show stability, or risk losing everything. Adrian knew the wife his grandfather wanted was Clara Moretti, Sir Alistair's daughter. Clara and he had already shared a romantic relationship in the past, but even then, there had never been talk of love or marriage between them.
But despite his desperation to play the responsible role, he couldn't bring himself to settle with Clara, sealing his future with Sir Alistair forever. Moreover, Clara leads a scandalous life just like him, making her unfit for the type of wife he wanted. He needed someone desperate enough to acquiesce, yet proud enough to make it sound plausible. Someone he was sure would never consider love with him.
Elena Ward was perfect.
He half-drunkly typed an email: *Lunch.* Claridge's. One o'clock. We need to talk.*
His finger hovered over send. He didn't like feeling desperate, but there was something about the way she'd turned him down that made him want to push.
He pressed send, not really expecting a reply, but at the same time, hoping for one.
He went back to enjoying the rest of his night, pushing Elena and his problems to the back of his mind.
************************************************
The next morning, Elena finally mustered the courage to reply to Adrian's email, accepting his invitation to meet up. She stared at her closet, asking herself what was most appropriate to wear to reject a billionaire. She convinced herself that the meeting would not alter her stance on the issue, and she was determined to end the chapter once and for all.
She settled on a black, unadorned dress. Professional. Unapproachable.
The cab journey to Claridge's was too long, but at the same time, too short. She rehearsed: "Thank you for the offer, but no. My gallery would survive. I'll figure my problems out."
The restaurant was crystal and gold leaf. Adrian was on his feet when she arrived, courteous but calculating.
"Ms. Ward. I'm so glad you were able to come."
"I'm here to say no." She sat down anyway.
"Then lunch will be brief." He chuckled and called a server over. "Wine?"
"Water is fine."
He slid a folder across the table. And as much as she didn't want to bother with its content, she still opened it and saw that the number at the top had doubled.
Elena's breathing ceased. That would not only save everything, but their financial future would be secured.
"Why me?" Her lips quivered.
Adrian leaned forward, "Because you have everything to lose and nothing to hide. No scandals in your past, no ex-lovers waiting to sell stories to tabloids. You're desperate enough to be motivated but proud enough to play the part convincingly." A smirk curved on his lips, "And because you won't fall in love with me. You can barely even tolerate my presence."
"This is about control for you," Elena said quietly. "Your image, your company, your future. But what about mine? What happens when this charade ends and I'm known as the woman who faked an engagement with Adrian Hale?"
"Marriages end every day, not to mention engagements. You'll be remembered as the innocent girl who almost married Adrian Hale." He smiled, "And before I forget, the owner of the high-end Ward Gallery." He added quickly.
"Thanks to your wealth."
"Is that so terrible?" He leaned close to her. "You conflate certainty with arrogance, Ms. Ward. I know what I want and I know how to get it. You could learn from that."
Her chest ignited with fire. She stood up briskly. "Thanks for lunch, Mr. Hale. But some people prefer to fail on their own terms rather than succeed on others'."
She vanished out in front of him, shoes clicking audibly. But she could still sense his gaze following her to the door.
************************************************
Back in her room, she got undressed and hastily stepped into the shower. She had wanted a long, hot shower, but remembering the water bill, she quickly decided against it.
Upon stepping out of the shower, her gaze fell on the several crises stacked on her vanity: the bank's last warning, communications from Marcus's headmaster, her father reminding her to take medication, and Sarah asking for money for shopping. She was also late on her father's hospital bills, house bills, and even the mortgage.
Adrian's file sat comfortably on her bed. In her haste, she must have brought it home with her. She picked it up, looking at the figures once again.
"Some of us like to fail on our own terms." Her words echoed in her ears.
But was it her terms if those she loved most suffered because of her?
Elena set the pen down without signing and instead drifted to sleep.
She woke up to a call from her best friend, Mara Kingsley, asking her to join her at a wine bar. Elena didn't hesitate, dressing up quickly to meet with Mara.
"You look like shit," Mara said.
"I forgot that honesty is your brand."
"Journalist, remember?" Mara poured generously. "What's up with you?"
Elena drank deeply. "I've been offered money. Enough to save everything."
"Wait, I don't understand. By who? Why? And for what? Are you selling the gallery?"
"A month-long fake engagement to a billionaire."
Mara laughed, hard and incredulous. "What? I'm sorry, but you've lost me. Come again."
"You know Adrian Hale?"
"Hale Global Holdings?"
"Yes, him. It turns out his board needs him to demonstrate that he's a stable, responsible individual. And I need cash. Business arrangement."
"Adrian Hale?" Mara set her glass down. "The one who makes CEOs cry in boardroom sessions? The one in the papers every week with someone new?"
"That's him."
"And he wants you to become his pretend fiancée?"
"Exactly!"
"Elena." Mara leaned forward. "That man is not safe. He's dangerous and can really hurt you if things go south."
"I know what he is. But I'm at my wits' end, Mara. The bank is repossessing. The nursing home Dad's in is threatening to move him. Marcus is misbehaving and joining bad gangs. The gallery." She spoke on a cracked note. "Everything Mum has fought for is dying."
"And Lucas? He agreed to this proposal?"
"He doesn't know. He flew out to LA this morning for a job and would be there for six weeks."
"So you plan on carrying on and ending this fake relationship within these six weeks?" Mara fixed her with a stare. "What if he falls in love with you or you with him?"
"God forbid! I can't even allow myself to like someone as pompous as him. All that is expected of me is to stand with him and smile."
"And then what? When everyone knows you as the woman who faked being engaged to Adrian Hale?"
"They won't because it would just be like a breakup. And in the end, I'll be the woman who saved her mother's gallery."
Mara sighed, seeing logic behind her friend's reasoning, "Just promise you won't get lost. Guys like him are used to owning things. Don't let him make you forget about Lucas."
"I won't."
Elena went back home with guilt eating deeper into her. Accepting Adrian's offer was one thing, but accepting it behind Lucas's back was another. This was the first time she would keep a secret from Lucas, and she promised herself that it would be her last.
Opening the folder, she found Adrian's contact information. She dialed, placing the phone to her ear, already practicing her speech.
One ring later, "Ms. Ward." The voice came out. Controlled. Unsurprised.
"I'll sign. But I have conditions."
A hesitation. "I'm listening."
"I control the gallery narrative. Also, no intimacy beyond public necessity. The contract ends when agreed. No extensions."
"Agreed."
"Just like that?"
"You're not unreasonable, Ms. Ward. This is business. I respect boundaries." He paused briefly. "My office. Tomorrow. Nine o'clock."
"I'll be there."
"And Elena? You're making the right choice." He said, as though hearing the worry in her heart and wanting to reassure her. He didn't wait for her response before dropping the call