Ayla's POV
I couldn't stop thinking about the whole contract stuff.
Pretending to be someone's fiancée, his fiancée like it was just another job. It sounded crazy. But Liam Cross didn't look like a man who joked.
I still wasn't sure I'd heard it right. It sounded like something from a drama, not my life. But the worst part? I agreed. Me Ayla, who couldn't even say no to her aunt when she asked for my paycheck, somehow agreed to fake an engagement with the CEO of Lumina Tech.
I barely slept. My brain kept spinning. By morning, my stomach felt like I'd swallowed stones.
The next morning, Nathan showed up at my desk before I finished logging in. "Mr. Cross wants to see you," he said, calm as ever.
My stomach dropped.
He was standing by the window when I walked in, all calm and steady, his hands in his pockets like the city belonged to him.
"Sit," he said.
I sat, fingers twisted together in my lap.
He studied me for a long moment before speaking. "If you're going to stand beside me, Ayla, it won't just be for one dinner. My name attracts attention. Reporters, clients, competitors they'll all be watching. You need to be prepared."
I swallowed hard. "I don't… I don't know if I can."
"You can," he said, cutting me off, his voice sharp but not unkind. "Which is why I've drafted a contract. It outlines expectations, conditions, and boundaries. Read it carefully before you sign."
A contract. Of course. I should've known this would be more business deal than fairy tale.
He slid the papers across the desk. My hands shook as I lifted them. The first page was filled with tiny lines of text. The second page… was a list. The Rules.
I blinked. Rules?
I started reading, and my heart sank further with every line.
1. No entering my study without permission.
2. No loud music in the house.
3. No shoes on the living room rug.
That one made me smile. Mr. Billionaire couldn't stand dirty shoes on his rug.
4. No clutter. If you use something, put it back.
5. No gossiping with staff.
Did he really think I was about to sit around chatting about him with his employees?
6. No uninvited guests, family included.
7. Respect personal boundaries.
8. No wandering into my bedroom.
As if I'd ever dare.
9. Maintain composure in public no, no scenes.
I pictured myself tripping in front of a camera and cringed. This one was going to be hard.
10. Keep your phone on silent when with me.
11. No touching personal belongings in the penthouse without asking.
12. No emotional attachment. This arrangement is temporary and professional.
Of course. Who would want to have anything to do with Mr Mean Face.
The nickname slipped into my head so fast it, before I could stop myself, I actually chuckled. A tiny, ridiculous sound in the middle of his ice-cold rules.
Liam's gaze flicked up at me. "Something funny?"
I shook my head quickly, biting my lip. "N-no. Nothing."
13. Under no circumstances should you speak to the press without my approval.
14. No staying out overnight without informing him.
15. Discretion is non-negotiable what happens in this house stays here.
And then the one that almost made me snort out loud
16. No feeding Mr. Cross's cat without permission.
I blinked. "You have a cat?"
He glanced up briefly. "No."
"Then why"
"In case I get one."
I stared at him. He wasn't joking. His face was serious.
My lips twitched before I could stop them. "You made a contract rule about a cat you don't even own?"
His eyes narrowed slightly. "It's called being thorough."
I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh. Don't laugh, Ayla. Don't laugh at your billionaire boss.
But I couldn't help myself. "This is insane."
He didn't flinch. "It's necessary. My house, my rules. You'll follow them."
I glanced up. "This is…a lot."
His voice was calm, steady. "It has to be. One mistake can cost me more than you can imagine. Do you understand?"
I wanted to argue, but the weight of his eyes pinned me in place. "I…understand."
"Good." He leaned back. "Then sign it."
My hand shook as I picked up the pen. Every part of me screamed that this was insane. Who signs a contract like this? But the truth sat heavy in my chest: I had no choice. Not with Aunt Clara. Not with the debt. Not with the life I was stuck in.
So I signed. My name looked small and shaky under all those rules.
"There," I said softly, sliding the folder back to him.
He glanced at my signature, then closed the file.
"You'll move into my penthouse tonight."
My head snapped up. "Tonight?"
"Yes." His tone was final. "Friday is in two days. Richard and his wife will expect to see us together. You need to be in place before then."
My heart jumped into my throat. "No I can't. Not tonight."
His brow arched. "Why not?"
"Because I need time. I have to…tell them. My aunt, my uncle, my cousin. I can't just disappear overnight." My voice cracked. "Please, give me one day. Just one."
For a moment, silence filled the room. His gaze stayed locked on me, sharp and unreadable. I thought he'd refuse. I thought he'd say something cold like, That's not my problem.
Instead, he gave a small nod. "Tomorrow, then. No later."
Relief rushed through me so fast it almost hurt. "Thank you," I whispered.
"Don't thank me," he said. "Be ready."
The drive to my house was silent. He insisted on dropping me off himself, though I couldn't imagine why. Maybe it was another one of his rules making sure I didn't run.
I sat in the passenger seat, clutching my bag, sneaking glances at him. His face was unreadable,and his eyes fixed on the road.
The car approached my street, my chest tightened. I wanted to ask him when was he going to give me the money?.The words sat heavy on my tongue, but I couldn't bring myself to say them.
And then as if reading my mind
"Ayla." He called
I froze. "Yes?"
"The debts are gone," he said suddenly .
I blinked at him. "What?"
He didn't look at me, just kept his gaze on the windshield. " I asked Nathan to clear them, the café woman, the men your uncle owed. They won't trouble you again."
I sat frozen, my brain struggling to catch up. Gone? Just like that?
"But…how did you even find them? You don't know them," I asked, my voice full of surprise.
He finally turned his head, giving me a look like I had just asked the most obvious, most ridiculous question in the world.
And then it hit me. He was the Liam Cross, of course he could find whatever information he needed, nothing was hidden from him.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small black card, placing it on the console between us. "This is yours now, use it for necessities. Clothes, food, whatever you need. Don't argue."
I stared at it, then at him, my throat closing up. My hands didn't even move to take it. I couldn't remember the last time someone gave me something without expecting me to bleed for it.
My lips trembled before I forced the words out. "I…I don't know what to say."
"Say nothing," Liam said flatly. "Just be ready."
I nodded, but my chest ached.
Because even though his voice was cold, even though he called it business, a part of me wanted to cry.
The card sat there, shining under the dim car light, while my whole world shifted again.