"Sign this, and you'll get ten million dollars."
Emily Carter's heart skipped a beat.
The thick envelope in front of her sat like a ticking bomb. A contract. A price. A deal that would change her life.
She stared at the man across the table—Ethan Gray, the infamous CEO of Gray International. Ruthless, cold, and devastatingly attractive. He didn't even flinch as he made the outrageous offer. As if proposing marriage to a stranger was just another business meeting.
"I'm sorry," Emily said, clearing her throat, "What did you just say?"
"I need a wife," Ethan repeated calmly. "One year. No emotions. No expectations. In return, you'll get ten million dollars. Five now, five after the divorce."
Emily blinked. She thought she'd misheard. She came here today expecting to be fired—after all, she was just a lowly secretary. Instead, she was being offered... marriage?
"I don't understand. Why me?" she asked.
Ethan leaned back in his leather chair, eyes unreadable. "Because you're quiet, discreet, and smart. You won't fall in love with me. And you're desperate enough."
His words hit like a slap.
Emily's face flushed with a mix of anger and shame. He wasn't wrong. Her mother was in the hospital. Her father's debts were drowning the family. And she had maxed out every credit card she owned just to pay last month's rent.
Still, being called desperate stung.
"What's in it for you?" she asked cautiously.
Ethan's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "My grandfather's will requires me to be married before I turn thirty. I have three weeks. I don't have time to date or pretend. I just need a wife. On paper."
"And after the year ends?"
"We file for divorce. Quietly. You disappear from my life, richer than you've ever imagined. Clean and simple."
It didn't feel clean. Or simple.
Emily's fingers twitched on her lap. The logical part of her brain screamed at her to walk away. But the desperate part—the part that woke up every morning wondering how to afford her mom's medication—was screaming louder.
"What if someone finds out?" she asked.
"They won't. The marriage will be legal but kept private. Only a few trusted people will know. You'll move into my penthouse for appearances. That's all."
Emily swallowed hard. "And we won't… I mean—"
"There will be no physical relationship," he cut in coldly. "This is a business transaction, not a romance novel."
She stared at him. Ethan Gray didn't look like a man who believed in love. He was all sharp angles, smooth control, and eyes that gave away nothing.
"Can I think about it?" she asked.
"You have 24 hours," he said, standing up and sliding a black folder toward her. "Read the contract. Have a lawyer check it if you want. But don't waste my time, Miss Carter. I'm not a patient man."
He turned to leave, his tall figure towering in his designer suit, and just as he reached the door, he paused.
"And one more thing," he added without looking back, "Don't expect me to save you. I'm not a knight in shining armor."
With that, he walked out.
---
That night, Emily sat in her small apartment, the contract spread across her kitchen table. The numbers swam before her eyes.
Ten million dollars.
It felt like a dream. Or a trap.
She ran her hands through her hair, sighing. If she accepted this… what would that make her? A gold digger? A sellout?
But when her phone rang and she saw the hospital's number flashing, she didn't hesitate.
Her mom's condition was worsening. They needed to run more tests. More money.
Emily looked at the folder again. Her hands trembled, but she picked up the pen.
"I'm doing this for you, Mom," she whispered, and signed her name.
---
The next day, she returned to Ethan's office.
He didn't say anything when she handed him the signed contract. He simply checked the signature, then nodded.
"You'll move in tomorrow. The marriage license is already being processed."
"Already?" she frowned. "You assumed I'd say yes?"
"I prepare for every outcome," he replied coolly. "Including your desperation."
Emily flinched. Again with the 'desperate' thing.
"Your schedule will be adjusted. You'll accompany me to certain events. Dress appropriately. Speak little. Smile when necessary."
"Am I marrying a man or working as your robot?"
He looked at her, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Amusement?
"You can be witty. That's surprising."
"I'm full of surprises," she muttered under her breath.
---
Two days later, Emily stood in front of a private officiant in a high-rise penthouse overlooking the city skyline.
No guests. No flowers. Just Ethan, two witnesses, and a cold draft that matched the mood.
"Do you, Ethan Gray, take Emily Carter to be your lawful wedded wife—"
"I do," he said before the officiant could finish.
Emily's chest tightened.
"And do you, Emily Carter, take Ethan Gray—"
"I do," she whispered.
The officiant smiled. "You may now kiss the bride."
Emily froze.
Ethan stared at her for a second. Then he leaned down and whispered, "We can fake it or skip it. Your call."
She hesitated, then turned her face away slightly. "Let's skip it."
He pulled back without a word.
Just like that… they were married.
---
Later that evening, in the penthouse guest bedroom assigned to her, Emily sat on the edge of the bed staring at the ring on her finger.
It wasn't love. It wasn't even real.
But it was legal.
And it was hers now—the title of Mrs. Ethan Gray.
She didn't know if that should scare her… or make her laugh.
But one thing was certain: her life would never be the same again.