"Be my fiancée," Adrian said calmly, "for the time being. In exchange, I'll erase your father's debt—and compensate you."
Raya blinked.
Then blinked again.
"I'm sorry, what?"
It sounded like the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard in her twenty-three years of life.
Adrian didn't repeat himself. He never did.
"You want me… to pretend to be her? To pretend to be your fiancée? Are you insane?" She shoved the folder away. "Look at her. Look at me. We're opposites. She's rich. And to be blunt—I'm poor. How on earth did you see me in the picture?"
Raya asked sincerely, because never in her life had she imagined being asked to be a stand-in. A stand-in for Seraphina Hart, a woman raised in wealth and privilege.
"If I had a choice," Adrian said, his voice sharp with disdain, "you wouldn't even be in the picture. But unfortunately, you look exactly like her."
His eyes raked over her with something close to contempt. "So no, I'm not asking you out of desire—I'm out of options."
Raya raised a brow, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Well, Mr. Blake, this woman… your fiancée… might be richer, but I'm definitely more beautiful."
He didn't react. She must be insane to think that.
But something clung to her mind. "If you want me to be your fiancée, where's your real fiancée? Did something happen to her?" Raya asked, then suddenly slapped a hand over her mouth.
Will she also be harmed for asking too much? she wondered silently.
"It's none of your concern." Adrian glared at her. "Will you accept the deal or not?"
She stood. "Absolutely not."
"I'll cover the entire debt your father owes. And pay you handsomely, if you play your part well."
She crossed her arms. "It's obvious you're rich, but I'm not desperate enough to sell myself. I won't pretend to be someone else for money."
Adrian rose and stepped forward, his gaze dark. "Are you sure?"
"Very." Raya nodded firmly, her expression never more serious.
He let out a soft exhale, something between a sigh and a warning. "Right now, I'm the one asking for your help. But the next time you come here, you'll be the one begging for it."
"I won't need your help," she said, voice tight. "Not now. Not ever."
Though her heart whispered otherwise.
The money could solve her problems. Everything.
Still—freedom mattered more. Her dignity mattered more. It was better to work herself to the bone out there than to live in a golden cage called a house.
Adrian studied her in silence for a long beat. Then, calmly, he turned to his men.
"Take her out through the back gate. Quietly. I don't want the staff mistaking her for Seraphina."
---
Three Years Ago
---
A ray of sunlight shone upon Raya's tired face. She opened her eyes wearily, feeling weak and sore. The bright rays poured into her vision, forcing her to shut them again before she slowly let them adjust.
Where on earth was she?
She pushed herself up to a sitting position, mind hazy. As she lifted the quilt, her breath caught—she was naked.
What happened to her?
Why was she here?
When did she take off her dress?
What the hell was going on?
A flood of questions rushed through her mind.
She turned—and froze. A man lay beside her.
Oh God. Did she just spend the night with a man?
His back was turned toward her, his face hidden from view.
Her memory was blurry. She vaguely remembered being shown to her assigned room the night before. Beyond that… nothing.
Wait! Someone must have taken advantage of her… or had she taken advantage of someone? She'd been raped! Her first night—stolen. She cried inwardly, lifting the quilt again to check herself.
The hickeys on her skin, the bloodstain on the sheets, and the pain between her legs told her everything.
Taken.
Taken by a male escort.
"Why an escort, Raya?" she muttered to herself bitterly.
She grabbed her phone and checked the time. A minute past nine in the morning.
Oh God—she was late for work. She had no time to dwell on this.
She scrambled for her clothes, dressing in a rush.
But the man still hadn't moved.
Is he dead? she thought in panic.
Hope he hasn't died from too much of last night… Would she be arrested for this? She shook her head furiously. No, she couldn't be arrested for something like this.
"Concentrate, Raya," she scolded herself, hitting her forehead lightly.
She crept closer, almost ready to see who had taken her first time.
But then—her phone rang, loud and shrill. Raya jumped, silenced it quickly, and bolted for the door. Her hand lingered on the knob for a moment.
Then guilt tugged at her.
She turned back, dropped a crumpled fifty-dollar bill on the nightstand, and whispered, "I'm sorry you met a broke client."
And then she ran out.
In her head, she convinced herself the man was a male escort. She had heard escorts were expensive, so it was better to flee before he woke up and demanded money she didn't have.
Minutes later, the man's assistant stepped cautiously into the room.
"Sir?" Stephen called, but there was no reply.
"Mr. Blake?" he tried again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
He approached and tapped the man's shoulder. "Mr. Blake, are you okay, sir?"
Adrian stirred with a muffled sound and sat up slowly. His body ached, his head throbbed. He rubbed the nape of his neck with one hand.
"What's going on?" he muttered hoarsely, confusion in his voice as he glanced around the hotel room.
Like I should be asking you that, Stephen thought, though he didn't voice it.
"You never sleep this late, so I thought of waking you," Stephen explained carefully.
Adrian checked his phone. 9:35 a.m. He never slept this late. Not once in his life.
Slowly, fragments of memory crept back.
Last night's party. Feeling suddenly hot after a drink. Retreating to his suite—the one Stephen had booked for him. After taking a quick shower, he heard the sound of the door opening. He opened the door but before he could see the person's face he was kissed.
The room was dark so he couldn't see the face of the woman.
What if she's bad looking?!
He's not the type to care about looks, but that doesn't mean he should spend the night with someone scarily bad looking.
He is not the type to lose control easily but her intoxicating scent makes his self control slip, plus the Aphrodite in his body made it impossible for him to avoid her seduction.
They had gone until dawn.
Was it his stamina—or the drug still in his veins?
But it feels good.
What the hell was he thinking?
Adrian's eyes widened as he jolted upright. She had whispered it was her first time.
He wrapped the duvet around his waist, his gaze falling on the bloodstained sheets. Confirmation.
Stephen's eyes narrowed slightly. Did his boss just… spend the night with a woman? "Are you okay, boss?" he asked, masking his surprise.
Although Adrian isn't a man who is impulsed by a lady, but it's not something that happens everyday. So it's still worth being surprised about.
Adrian's expression was unreadable, his voice cold. "Find the waitress who drugged me."
It had to be a setup. The drink, the sudden heat, the woman—it had all been planned.
"On it, sir," Stephen replied immediately and left the room.
Adrian showered quickly, dressed, and returned to the bedroom—only for his gaze to land on the nightstand.
A fifty-dollar bill.
His jaw tightened. Is that what I'm worth? Fifty dollars? Just fifty dollar?
His fury flared. He stormed out, sliding into the back seat of his car where Stephen was waiting.
"Find the woman I was with last night," Adrian ordered coldly.
"Yes, sir."