Chapter Three: Terms and Conditions
Amara sat frozen in the luxury car, Ethan Knight's proposal echoing in her ears. A fake marriage. A contract. With him. The words sounded absurd, like dialogue from one of the romance films he starred in. Only this wasn't a movie.
"You can't just ask a stranger to marry you," she blurted at last, her voice shaky but firm.
"I didn't ask you to marry me," Ethan corrected, his tone smooth and businesslike. "I asked you to sign a contract that benefits us both. Think of it as… a temporary merger."
She gawked at him. "You're comparing marriage to a business deal?"
"That's exactly what it would be," he said without hesitation. "Nothing emotional, nothing complicated. Just a public performance. I've spent my career convincing audiences of love stories. This won't be any different—except this time, the audience is the world."
Amara's head spun. "Why me? You could have anyone. An actress, a model—someone from your world."
"That's the problem," he countered sharply. "Anyone from Hollywood would look staged. The tabloids would shred it apart. I need someone who doesn't fit the mold, someone the public will believe. You're smart, grounded, and unknown to the press. You're exactly what I need."
Amara's mouth went dry. She thought of her family—her mother struggling to pay medical bills, her younger brother trying to finish university, and her own constant battle to keep up with rent in the city. The kind of "generous compensation" Ethan hinted at could change everything.
Still, it was madness.
"I edit romance novels, Mr. Knight," she said faintly. "And even I think this story is far-fetched."
His lips curved into a faint smirk, though his eyes held no humor. "Then maybe you should think of this as research."
Before she could retort, the car stopped in front of a sleek glass building downtown. Ethan stepped out, his commanding presence drawing stares from pedestrians. Without waiting, he opened her door. "Come upstairs. Meet my lawyer. At least hear the terms before you decide."
Against her better judgment, Amara followed. The office suite was elegant, the kind of place where million-dollar deals were made. Within minutes, a sharp-looking man in a navy suit spread a contract across the table.
"Six months," the lawyer explained crisply. "You'll live with Mr. Knight in his primary residence. Attend public events, red carpets, charity galas, as his wife. In return, you'll receive a financial package that will secure your future." He slid a page toward her. The figure made Amara's eyes widen. It was more money than she could have dreamed of earning in ten years.
But the fine print chilled her. Clauses about confidentiality. Mandatory appearances. Penalties if she broke the agreement. She glanced up, suddenly aware of Ethan's gaze fixed on her.
"This is insane," she whispered.
"Or it's the smartest decision you'll ever make," Ethan replied calmly. "You get stability. I get my career back. Six months, Amara. That's all."
Her pulse thundered in her ears. She wanted to laugh, to call him ridiculous, to walk away and never look back. But the truth was, her life wasn't working. Her family needed her. Her bank account was a ticking time bomb.
And sitting across from her was a billionaire movie star, offering her a way out.
Amara closed the folder slowly, her fingers trembling.
"I'll think about it," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan leaned back, studying her like a chess piece he'd just moved into place.
"Do that," he murmured. "But don't take too long. Hollywood doesn't wait."