Ava hadn't planned on seeing him again.
But there he was ,two days later, sitting in her favorite coffee shop like he belonged there, black suit and all, completely out of place among chipped mugs and indie music.
She froze mid-step. He didn't look up. Just stirred his espresso slowly, deliberately, like the world outside didn't touch him.
She considered leaving. Really, she did.
But curiosity was a louder voice than common sense.
"Didn't peg you for a latte-and-loiter kind of billionaire," she said, sliding into the seat across from him before she could talk herself out of it.
Damien looked up. No surprise in his eyes , just that same maddening calm.
"I like quiet places," he said.
A beat passed.
"Let's skip to the part where you tell me why you're here."
He studied her like a problem he intended to solve.
"I need a fake fiancée. For three months."
Ava blinked. "Excuse me?"
" I'm offering you a choice," he said. Quickly adding "Not chains."
Ava folded her arms. "Why me?"
He hesitated. That surprised her.
"Because you're the only woman I've met in a long time who doesn't try to impress me," he said finally. "You don't pretend. And that makes the lie believable."
Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.
Three months. Three million. That was the number he slid across the table on a neat printed contract.
Her first instinct was to burn it.
Fake fiancée. Three months. Three million dollars. She repeated it with mouth , her mind
She felt sick.
Elena( Ava's best friend)arrived twenty minutes later, windblown and suspicious the moment she saw Ava's face. "Okay. Who died, and why are your eyes saying 'I'm about to do something stupid'?"
Ava wordlessly pushed Damien's sleek contract folder across the table.
Elena read silently. Then her eyes widened. "Is this a joke? Damien Wolfe wants to hire you to be his fiancée?"
"He says it's for business. Public image. Blah blah billionaire reputation rehab."
"You're seriously considering it?"
Ava hesitated.
"I shouldn't," she muttered. "It's fake. It's manipulative. It's him."
"But?"
"I'm drowning, El. I checked the books last night. I can't cover the next venue payment. I had to cancel two shoots this week because the camera I rent broke. And you know what's worse? People still whisper his name when they talk to me."
Elena's face darkened. "Blake?"
Ava nodded once, jaw tight.
She didn't have the luxury of pride anymore. But even thinking about accepting Damien's deal felt like surrendering something sacred.
And then Elena whispered, "Ava... if you do this, do it on your terms. Not his."
Across the city, Damien Wolfe sat in his penthouse office, the skyline painting cold shadows across the floor.
He reread the profile Marcus had handed him earlier that morning.
Ava Morgan.
Age: 28
Independent event planner
Founder of Prism & Pine Events
Former marketing assistant, Carrington Group
History: Severed ties after legal dispute over stolen concepts
Rumored relationship with CEO Blake Carrington, ended under hostile conditions
Reputation: talented, outspoken, blacklisted from elite circles post-breakup
Finances: critical status, business close to folding
He closed the file.
He didn't need this level of detail. But he'd asked for it anyway. Not out of paranoian but because something about her had lingered. The way she stood up to him. The fire in her voice. The way she saw straight through him but and didn't flinch.
She wasn't the safest choice.
But she was the right one.
And that made her dangerous.
...
Damien Wolfe: 48 hours. That was generous. Do you have an answer?
She didn't text back.
She grabbed her coat and walked out into the evening air, heart pounding, head screaming and fifteen minutes later, she was in the coffee shop again, staring across the table at the man who had turned her life into a chessboard.
She dropped into the chair.
"I read your contract," she said flatly. "And I know you had someone look into me."
Damien met her eyes without apology. "Of course I did."
"I'm not a threat," she snapped.
"No. But you are a variable. And I don't make deals blind."
Ava inhaled sharply. "You know what I hate most about men like you?"
"I can guess."
"You think control makes you untouchable. But it doesn't. It just makes you lonely."
He said nothing. But something flickered in his eyessomething unreadable.
"I have conditions," she said.
His brows rose. "Name them."
And she did. No touching unless necessary. No manipulation. No decisions about her life without consent. And no surprises ever.
He listened, nodded once, and slid the signed agreement toward her.
Ava stared at the paper.
Then she picked up the pen.
And with one sharp signature, Ava Morgan agreed to become Damien Wolfe's lie.
She extended her hand across the table. He took it.
And just like that, Ava Morgan became Damien Wolfe's greatest lie.