The rain fell like a curtain, blurring the glittering lights of the city. Cars splashed through puddles, their horns echoing across the avenue, but Emma White barely noticed. Her shoes were soaked through, her coat clung to her trembling body, and in her hands was a thin envelope. It wasn't just paper inside—it was survival.
She stood at the foot of the Williams Corporation Tower, a gleaming skyscraper that seemed to scrape the heavens. The glass walls reflected her pale face back at her, reminding her just how out of place she was in this world of polished steel and untouchable power.
Emma swallowed hard. This is my only chance.
Her mother's hospital bills had reached the point where the doctors threatened to stop treatment. Her younger brother Daniel still needed tuition and care. And her part-time jobs barely kept them fed. When the mysterious "offer" came from the city's most feared billionaire, she hadn't wanted to believe it. Marriage—contractual, cold, purely transactional. It sounded like selling her freedom.
But what freedom did she even have left?
Taking a breath, she stepped inside.
The marble lobby stretched endlessly, lit by golden chandeliers. Men and women in crisp suits walked past her without sparing a glance. She clutched the envelope tighter, her cheap shoes squeaking against the polished floor.
"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asked, her gaze flicking over Emma's damp clothes with a mixture of pity and disdain.
"Y-yes. Emma White. Mr. Williams… is expecting me."
The receptionist's brows arched slightly, but she picked up the phone. After a few hushed words, she gestured toward the elevator. "Top floor."
Emma exhaled shakily. Her heart pounded with each ding of the elevator as it climbed higher and higher, until finally, the doors slid open to reveal a silent, luxurious hallway. At the end, double mahogany doors loomed like the gates to another world.
She pushed them open.
The office was enormous, its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the storm-drenched city. At the desk sat Alexander Williams, the youngest CEO in the country's history, and the most ruthless.
He didn't look up immediately. His pen glided across the paper in sharp strokes, his expression carved from marble. His black suit was tailored perfectly, his tie precise, and his aura so cold it sent a chill through the room.
"You have ten minutes," he said flatly, still writing. His voice was deep, commanding, as if he didn't know how to speak without authority.
Emma's throat went dry. She stepped closer, her shoes sinking slightly into the thick carpet. "Mr. Williams… I—I'm here to accept your offer."
Finally, he looked up.
His eyes were grey—cold, piercing, like a winter storm. They scanned her face with such intensity that Emma felt stripped bare, as if he were evaluating her worth in mere seconds.
"You're late," he said, his tone clipped.
"I—I came as quickly as I could," she stammered. "The traffic—"
"Excuses waste time." He rose from his chair, towering over her. "Do you understand the terms of this agreement, Miss White?"
Emma clutched the envelope. Inside was the contract his assistant had sent: marriage in name only, lasting one year, in exchange for financial security. She had read it a hundred times.
"Yes. I do."
"No love. No expectations. No interference with my life outside the contract." He stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "You will fulfill the role of Mrs. Williams in public only. Behind closed doors, you will remember your place."
Emma's lips pressed together. "And in exchange, you'll pay for my mother's treatment… and ensure my brother can continue school."
His gaze hardened. "Exactly. Do you still agree?"
She hesitated, her heart pounding painfully. Every instinct screamed at her to run. But the memory of her mother's frail smile and her brother's hopeful eyes anchored her.
"Yes. I agree."
A flicker—something unreadable—passed through Alexander's eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared. He reached into a drawer and retrieved a sleek folder. "Sign it."
Emma opened the folder with trembling hands. The contract was thick with clauses and legal terms she barely understood. At the end, her name waited on the dotted line.
Her pen scratched across the paper, shaky but resolute. When she finished, she slid it back across the desk.
Alexander's signature was swift, confident. He closed the folder with a sharp snap. "From this moment, Emma White, you are my wife."
Her breath caught. The words sounded final, absolute.
But there was no warmth in his tone. To him, it was nothing but another business deal.
"An assistant will handle the formalities," he continued briskly. "We'll announce the marriage tomorrow. You'll move into my residence tonight."
Emma's eyes widened. "Tonight?"
His brows lifted slightly, as if amused by her surprise. "Did you expect to delay the inevitable? Or are you reconsidering?"
"No!" she blurted, then flushed. "I mean… I'll do it."
"Good." He turned back to his desk, already dismissing her. "Someone will escort you."
Emma's hands clenched at her sides. That was it? A few signatures, a few cold words, and her entire life was bound to his?
She turned to leave, her chest heavy, when his voice stopped her.
"Miss White."
She froze.
Alexander's eyes met hers again, sharp and unreadable. "Understand this clearly. Whatever happens between us is nothing. Do not mistake this arrangement for love. Break this rule, and the consequences will be severe."
Emma's throat tightened. She nodded quickly. "I understand."
"Good. Then we won't have a problem."
He dismissed her with a flick of his hand.
As Emma stepped back into the elevator, clutching her damp coat, a single thought echoed in her mind:
What have I gotten myself into?