The restaurant belonged to the sort of place that leaves the prices off the menu. Chandeliers hung over the tables. Soft piano music drifted through the
room, and waiters moved between
candlelit tables carrying bottles of champagne that probably cost more than your monthly paycheck,
And then there was you.
A broke college student who spent nearly every hour outside of classes working shifts at a local coffee shop,
desperately trying to keep up with your mother's mounting medical bills.
You definitely didn't belong here.
And you definitely didn't belong sitting across from Mr. Kingsford, the ridiculously handsome CEO of Kingsford Enterprises.
The man had old money written into the way he held the chair. He looked like
His perfectly styled hair, expensive clothes, luxury watch and effortlessly
the kind of man who had never checked his bank account before ordering something.
Unfortunately, he also looked like he'd
rather be anywhere else. A few days ago, he had approached you with possibly the strangest proposition
you'd ever heard.
Marriage
Not because he loved you.
Hell, the man barely knew you.
His parents had apparently given him
an ultimatum: leave Rosamund Pell and marry someone they approved of-or risk losing everything tied to his family. Somehow his brilliant solution had been…
you.
Now you were sitting across from him while he poured champagne into your glass and slid a thick stack of papers across the pristine white tablecloth.
You glanced down.
MARRIAGE AGREEMENT.
Oh, boy.
"I love someone else
You nearly choked on your champagne.
Your eyes lifted slowly toward him. "
Okay,
" you interrupted, fighting back an amused smile. "
Bit of a harsh
opening.
" His expression barely changed.
Apparently Mr. Personality wasn't
Interested in jokes tonight. "
If we get married,
" he continued calmly, "
I will never love you.
"
Your eyebrows rose.
Wow.
Somehow he'd managed to make the opening worse. "
There will be no real marriage. No
romance. No intimacy. Definitely no
expectations.
"
He leaned back slightly, watching you with that infuriatingly composed CEO expression. "
This is an arrangement. Nothing
more.
"
You took another sip of champagne
At least the champagne was expensive.
"
To my parents, my family, the press, and everyone else in this city, you'll be my wife, he continued.
"They'll believe we're happily married."
Then his jaw tightened.
"But privately, we live separate
lives."
You glanced toward the contract again.
"And why exactly am I volunteering for this disaster?"
His eyes hardened slightly.
"Rosamund Pell."
Ah.
Of course.
"My parents refuse to accept her,"
he said.
"They've made their position very clear. If I stay with Rosamund, they'll cut me off from the family."
You had to physically stop yourself from
laughing.
Everyone who had ever heard the name
Rosamund Pell seemed to have heard
something about her. Manipulation. Lies.
Scheming. Using people whenever it
benefited her.
Frankly, his parents' opinion of Rosamund
might have been the least surprising
part of this entire conversation.
What was surprising was that the supposedly brilliant CEO sitting across from you seemed completely blind when
it came to her.
Or perhaps he simply didn't want to see it Still, you kept that particular opinion to
yourself.
Instead, you placed your champagne
glass onto the table.
"Mr. Kingsford,"
you said, barely containing
your amusement,
"with all due
respect...
You gestured vaguely toward him.
"
You really sound like a walking red
flag
"
For the first time, something flickered
across his face.
You pushed your chair backward.
"
Dinner was lovely, though. Thanks for
the free champagne.
"
You were halfway out of your seat when
his next words stopped you cold.
"
Two hundred thousand dollars.
"
You froze.
Slowly, you looked back at him.
He didn't blink.
"
A month.
"
Your hand remained on the back of the
chair.
"
...Excuse me?
"
He pushed the marriage agreement
farther across the table.
"
Two hundred thousand dollars
every month for the duration of our
marriage.
"
Your gaze dropped toward the contract.
That kind of money...
Your tuition.
Your rent.
Your mother's hospital bills.
Everything that had been keeping
you awake at night could suddenly
disappear.
"
You'll have access to anything
necessary to maintain the appearance
expected of my wife,
" he continued.
"
Clothes. Transportation. Security
Expenses. None of it comes from your
payment.
"
You slowly sat back down.
Damn him.
Now he had your attention.
He leaned forward slightly.
"
Your only real job is to stay out of my life
"
You picked up the contract and began
flipping through the pages.
"
We sleep in separate rooms,
" he said.
"
You don't interfere with my personal
relationships. I don't interfere with
yours. Behind closed doors, we're
strangers.
"
Your eyes moved across line after line of
legal language.
"
And in public?
"
His expression became colder.
In public, you’ll behave like my
wife."
You looked up.
"My loving, devoted wife,"
he clarified.
"You'll attend events with me. Family
dinners. Galas. Business functions.
You'll smile for cameras, hold my hand
when necessary, and convince everyone
that this marriage is real."
A humorless little smile touched his lips.
"And they'll believe I adore you."
You stared at him.
"So basically I become Mrs. Kingsford
whenever there's an audience."
4
"Exactly."
"And when there isn't?"
"We stay out of each other's way."
You leaned back in your chair.
"Charming."
His gaze didn't leave yours.
"And there's one thing you need
to understand before you sign
anything."
There was suddenly something sharper
In his voice.
Something final.
"Rosamund Pell is the only woman I will
ever love.
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes
again.
"
You will never replace her. You will
never ask me to choose you over her.
And whatever happens during this arrangement, you will never mistake our marriage for something real.
"
Silence settled between you.
The candle flame flickered beside the
contract
Two hundred thousand dollars every
month.
Enough to change your entire life.
Enough to help your mother.
Enough to finally stop calculating
whether you could afford groceries after
paying another hospital bill.
Mr. Kingsford reached into his jacket and
placed an expensive fountain pen
directly on top of the contract.
Then he slid both toward you.
His eyes locked onto yours.
Cold.
Confident.
Completely convinced he already knew
exactly how this marriage would go.
"