Amelia Hayes had learned two things in life:
Bad news never waited for a convenient moment.
It always arrived in groups, like wolves, hungry for whatever was left of your hope.
She stood outside the bursar's office clutching the scholarship termination letter, fingers numb from rereading the same sentence again and again.
"Your funding has been revoked due to academic inconsistency and delayed tuition obligations."
Inconsistency.
As if juggling two jobs, caring for a sick mother, and studying until exhaustion counted as "inconsistent."
Her vision blurred as she blinked hard.
She didn't have money for next semester.
She barely had money for next week.
Her phone buzzed.
MOM (8 missed calls)
NURSE: Please call back. It's urgent.
Her knees weakened.
No. Not now. Not today.
She pressed the phone against her forehead, inhaling deeply as the hallway blurred around her. Students walked past laughing, complaining, making plans, these are people with futures secured by parents, privilege, stability.
Her world was made of patched-together pieces that were all falling apart at once.
She shoved the letter into her bag and hurried out of the building.
The afternoon sun stabbed at her eyes as she reached the street. She was halfway across the sidewalk when she collided with something,
No, someone, someone hard enough to knock her off balance.
A strong hand shot out, gripping her elbow before she could hit the ground.
"Watch where you're going."
The voice was deep. Irritated. Smooth enough to sting.
Amelia looked up and froze.
The man in front of her was the kind of handsome that made your brain short-circuit. Tall, sharply dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, dark eyes cool and assessing, a presence that felt… dangerous.
And expensive.
She swallowed.
"S-sorry. I didn't see—"
"You didn't look," he corrected, letting go of her arm as if she'd burned him. "There's a difference."
She bristled. "Well, I'm not exactly having the best day."
"Not my problem."
He stepped past her, leaving a trail of expensive cologne and arrogance.
She should have walked away.
Should have forgotten him.
Instead, the universe, because it apparently enjoyed humiliating her, sent a gust of wind strong enough to rip the scholarship letter from her bag.
"No—wait—!"
The paper fluttered across the pavement like it belonged to someone with a functioning life. It slid to the man's feet.
He paused.
Bent.
Picked it up.
And read it.
Mortification shot through her so hard her eyes burned.
"Financial problems?" he asked, gaze flicking over her in a way that felt like he was dissecting her life in seconds. "No scholarship. No funds. Tough luck."
She snatched the paper out of his hand.
"That's none of your business."
"It became my business when you nearly ran into my car earlier."
Amelia glanced behind him, and her stomach dropped.
A black Rolls-Royce.
Of course.
"You think I can damage a car like that?" she snapped.
"I think people who aren't paying attention are the most dangerous," he said simply.
Her chest tightened with frustration. "You don't know anything about me."
He studied her again, too sharply and knowingly, before slipping on sunglasses that made him look even more intimidating.
"You're right," he said. "Not yet."
Her brows pulled together. "Yet?"
But he was already turning away, answering a call, voice dropping into a cold, businesslike tone.
"Tell the board I don't care what rumors they heard," he said as he slid into the car. "I'm handling it. And find me a wife."
Amelia froze.
A wife?
The door shut.
The car disappeared into traffic.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
What kind of man ordered a wife like he was requesting a new laptop?
"What a jerk," she muttered.
Still…
His face lingered in her mind longer than she wanted.
Back at the hospital, reality slapped her harder.
Her mother's breathing was worse. Her medical bills had doubled. The nurse explained the situation gently, but Amelia felt like the walls were closing in.
She needed money.
A lot of it.
Fast.
Desperation made people do stupid things.
Which was how, hours later, Amelia found herself standing in a long, glittering hallway of the Avalon Hotel, clutching a flyer that said:
MODEL AUDITION — QUICK PAY — NO EXPERIENCE NEEDED.
She wasn't a model.
She wasn't glamorous.
She was tired, broke, and drowning.
But today had taken everything from her. Pride wasn't going to keep her mother alive.
She took a shaky breath and stepped into the audition room…
Just as he stepped out.
Her heart slammed into her ribs.
The man from earlier.
The cold, infuriating stranger with the Rolls-Royce.
He stopped.
Looked at her.
Like he'd been expecting her.
"It's you," he said quietly.
"Unfortunately," she muttered.
His lips twitched, almost a smile.
Almost.
Then he said something that made her world tilt dangerously:
"Cancel the modeling. I want her instead."
Her eyes widened. "Excuse me?"
He extended a hand.
"Luca Moretti."
She blinked.
THE Luca Moretti?
Billionaire. CEO. Scandal magnet.
The man every news outlet dissected like a national pastime.
Her voice came out weak. "I… I know who you are."
"Good," he murmured, his gaze locking onto hers with unnerving intensity.
"Because I have a proposition."
"A… what?"
His next words would change her life forever.
A deal she couldn't afford to refuse.
But definitely should have.