Natasha's POV
Natasha almost turned around three times before reaching the building.
Chen Ventures occupied the top fifteen floors of the tallest tower in the financial district. The kind of place where security guards wore earpieces and everyone walking through the lobby looked like they owned half the city.
She didn't belong here. Not anymore.
But she pushed through the revolving doors anyway, her chin lifted high even though her stomach twisted with nerves. She'd worn her only professional outfit—a black dress she'd kept from her journalism days. It was slightly wrinkled because she couldn't afford dry cleaning, but it would have to do.
The receptionist looked up as Natasha approached, her expression polite but distant. Can I help you?
Natasha Quinn. I have a ten o'clock appointment with Mr. Chen.
The receptionist's eyebrows rose slightly, surprise flickering across her face before her professional mask returned. She typed something into her computer, then picked up the phone.
Ms. Quinn is here for her appointment. A pause. Yes, sir. Right away.
She hung up and gestured toward the elevators. Top floor. Mr. Park will meet you there.
Natasha's heart hammered as the elevator climbed. She watched the numbers tick higher and higher, each floor taking her further from the ground, further from safety, further from any chance of turning back.
The doors opened directly into a reception area where James stood waiting.
Ms. Quinn. Right on time. He gestured down a hallway. Mr. Chen is ready for you.
They walked in silence. Natasha's shoes clicked against the polished floor, each step feeling like she was walking toward something she couldn't undo.
James stopped at a set of double doors and knocked once.
Come in, a deep voice called from inside.
James opened the door, and Natasha stepped into Elias Chen's office.
Her first thought was that the space felt cold. Not temperature-wise, but emotionally. Everything was precise, controlled, perfectly arranged. No personal photos, no mess, nothing that suggested an actual human worked here.
Her second thought vanished completely when the man behind the desk stood up.
Elias Chen was tall, easily over six feet, with dark hair and eyes that seemed to see straight through her. He wore a black suit that probably cost more than her entire apartment building. But it wasn't his expensive clothes or his height that made Natasha's breath catch.
It was the way he looked at her.
Like she was a balance sheet he was calculating. Like she was a problem he needed to solve. Like she was simultaneously interesting and completely disposable.
Ms. Quinn. His voice was smooth, controlled, giving away nothing. Please, sit.
Natasha sat in the chair across from his desk, refusing to let him see how much he intimidated her. She'd interviewed corrupt CEOs before. She'd faced down politicians who'd tried to threaten her into silence. She could handle one businessman, no matter how powerful he was.
Elias sat back down, his movements precise. He didn't smile, didn't make small talk, didn't waste a single second on pleasantries.
I assume James explained the basic terms of the arrangement?
He said you need a fake girlfriend for six months, Natasha replied, keeping her voice steady. But he didn't explain why.
The why is simple. My grandmother is dying.
The blunt statement caught Natasha off guard. She'd expected corporate politics or business strategy, not family drama.
Elias continued, his expression never changing. She has six months, maybe less. She's decided that before she dies, she wants to see me settled and happy. Married, preferably. She's written her will to ensure I comply.
She's forcing you to get married?
She's forcing me to appear to be in a committed relationship heading toward marriage. If I'm not engaged within six months, her shares in Chen Ventures—which give me controlling interest—pass to my cousin Richard. Who has been waiting for exactly this opportunity to take over my company.
Natasha's journalist instincts kicked in immediately. So you'd lose everything.
Correct. My company, my position, everything I've built for the last thirteen years. His voice remained completely emotionless, as if he were discussing stock prices instead of his life's work. I need someone who can convincingly play the role of my girlfriend at family events, charity galas, and board meetings. Someone intelligent enough to handle high-pressure social situations without embarrassing me.
And you picked me because I'm desperate and destroyed, Natasha said flatly.
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes. I picked you because you're smart, resilient, and you have nothing left to lose. That makes you reliable. You won't develop actual feelings because you're still in love with your ex-fiancé—
I'm not in love with Marcus, Natasha interrupted sharply.
Then you hate him, which amounts to the same thing. You're emotionally unavailable. Perfect for this arrangement.
The cold assessment made Natasha's chest tighten. Was this how he saw everyone? As tools to be used for specific purposes?
Why not just find a real girlfriend? she asked. You're rich, powerful, reasonably attractive. Women would line up for a chance.
Because real relationships require time, emotional investment, and vulnerability. All things I don't have and don't want. This is cleaner. More efficient.
Natasha stared at him, something almost like pity stirring in her chest. You're hiring someone to fake love you because real love is too inconvenient? That's the saddest thing I've ever heard.
For a moment, just a fraction of a second, his controlled expression cracked. Something that looked almost like pain flashed across his face before the mask slammed back into place.
Do we have an agreement or not, Ms. Quinn?
Natasha should say no. This man was clearly damaged, possibly dangerous, and definitely incapable of seeing people as anything other than chess pieces. Getting involved with him would be another mistake in a long line of mistakes.
But then she thought about Marcus's engagement post. About Simone's smile. About six months of humiliation and poverty and rage with no end in sight.
I have a condition, she said slowly.
Elias's eyes narrowed. I'm listening.
The money helps me investigate who really framed me. But when this is over, when the six months end and you've gotten what you want from this deal, you use your connections to destroy Marcus Webb and Simone Park professionally. You make them feel exactly what I felt. You ruin them.
The request was harsh, vindictive, not the kind of thing the old Natasha would have asked for. But the old Natasha was gone, destroyed by the people she'd trusted most.
Elias studied her for a long moment. Then he smiled.
It was a cold smile, sharp as a knife, but it held genuine approval.
I can do that. In fact, I'll enjoy it. Do we have a deal?
He stood and extended his hand across the desk.
Natasha looked at that hand. This was it. The moment she either walked away and stayed in her miserable existence, or made a deal with someone who might be just as dangerous as her enemies.
She stood and shook his hand.
His grip was firm, warm, and the moment their skin touched, electricity shot up her arm. She saw his eyes widen slightly, felt his fingers tighten just a fraction.
He felt it too.
They stood there, hands clasped, the air between them suddenly charged with something neither of them had expected.
Elias pulled back first, his expression carefully neutral again.
James will send you the formal contract to review. We start public appearances next week. First event is a charity gala—black tie, high profile. Can you handle that?
I used to attend those events as a respected journalist, Natasha said, lifting her chin. I can handle it.
Good. We'll need to establish our cover story, how we met, how long we've been dating. James will coordinate a meeting to
Wait, Natasha interrupted. I have a question first.
Elias raised an eyebrow. What?
At this gala next week, will Marcus and Simone be there? They run in these social circles now.
Probably. Does that change your answer?
Natasha thought about walking into that ballroom on Elias Chen's arm. Thought about Marcus's face when he saw her with one of the most powerful men in the city. Thought about Simone's shock when the woman they'd destroyed showed up looking successful and untouchable.
No, she said softly. It makes me more certain.
Elias nodded once. Then we have a deal. Welcome to the performance, Ms. Quinn.
He turned back to his desk, clearly dismissing her. The meeting was over.
Natasha walked toward the door, her mind spinning with everything that had just happened. She'd just agreed to fake date a billionaire CEO. She'd just sold six months of her life for revenge and money.
She was almost to the door when Elias spoke again.
Ms. Quinn?
She turned back.
He was watching her with those dark, unreadable eyes. One more thing. My cousin Richard will be at the gala. He's been waiting for any opportunity to destroy me and take my company. If he discovers our relationship is fake, this entire arrangement collapses and we both lose everything we want.
I understand. I won't give us away.
That's not what concerns me. Elias stood, walking around his desk toward her. What concerns me is that Richard has connections throughout the city's media industry. Including ownership stakes in several publishing companies.
Natasha's blood ran cold. Which companies?
Webb Media, for one. The company where your ex-fiancé currently works as an executive.
The words hit like a punch to the stomach. Marcus worked for Elias's cousin?
You're saying Richard might be connected to what happened to me?
I'm saying it's a strange coincidence that my cousin recently acquired the media company that employs the man who destroyed your career. I'm saying you should be careful. And I'm saying that if we're going to work together, we need to trust each other enough to share information about our enemies.
Elias stopped directly in front of her, close enough that she could see gold flecks in his dark eyes.
So tell me, Ms. Quinn. Do you think your frame-up and my cousin's corporate warfare might be connected?
Natasha's mind raced, pieces clicking together in ways that made her stomach drop.
I don't know, she whispered. But I'm going to find out.
Good. So am I. He stepped back. We'll talk more at the gala. Until then, don't contact Marcus or Simone. Don't tip our hand. Just smile and play your role.
Natasha nodded, unable to speak, and left his office.
In the elevator going down, her hands shook.
She'd thought this was just about money and revenge.
But what if it was bigger? What if the same person who wanted to destroy Elias had also destroyed her?
The elevator doors opened to the lobby, and Natasha stepped out into the bright morning sunlight.
Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number:
Saw you at Chen Ventures. Interesting choice of boyfriend. Careful, Tasha. Some men are more dangerous than they appear. —A Friend
Natasha's blood turned to ice.
Someone had been watching her. Someone knew about the meeting.
And whoever it was, they'd just sent her a warning.