I didn't believe in destiny.
But I did believe in desperation.
And desperation is what led me to stand inside the tallest glass building in the city — staring at my reflection in doors that probably cost more than my entire house.
I wasn't supposed to be here.
Girls like me didn't belong in places like this.
But girls like me also didn't have a father drowning in debt.
"Miss Alina Rao?" the receptionist asked.
"Yes."
"He's waiting for you."
He.
As if everyone knew there was only one him.
Arjun Malhotra.
CEO. Billionaire heir. Ruthless negotiator.
The man newspapers called The Devil in a Suit.
I stepped into the elevator, my palms cold.
This wasn't a job interview.
This was a deal.
His office was silent. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Dark furniture. Sharp lines.
And him.
Standing near the window.
Black suit. Broad shoulders. Calm posture.
He didn't turn when I entered.
"You're late," he said.
I looked at my watch. I was exactly on time.
"I'm not."
Now he turned.
And I understood why people called him dangerous.
Not because he shouted.
Not because he threatened.
But because his eyes didn't reveal anything.
Cold. Observant. Calculating.
"You need money," he said.
Straight to the point.
"Yes."
"For your father's loan."
My breath caught.
"How do you know that?"
He walked toward his desk and placed a file in front of me.
"I know everything before I make an offer."
Offer.
So it was true.
He wasn't offering me a job.
He was offering me a contract.
"I need a fiancée," he said calmly.
I blinked.
"A… what?"
"A fake one."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
"My board wants stability. Investors trust married men more than single ones." He sat down. "You'll attend events with me. Act in love. Smile when required."
"And in return?"
"Your father's debt disappears. Completely."
Silence filled the space between us.
This was insane.
Fake engagement? With him?
"What's the catch?" I asked carefully.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"You will not fall in love with me."
That almost made me laugh.
"Trust me," I said. "That won't be a problem."
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes.
Amusement.
"Good," he replied. "Because if you do…"
He leaned back in his chair.
"I won't catch you."
A chill ran down my spine.
The contract was simple.
Six months.
Public appearances.
Perfect couple image.
No real feelings.
No questions about his past.
No crossing personal boundaries.
I stared at the paper.
Six months of pretending.
Six months of being close to a man who looked like he had built walls higher than this building.
Six months of danger.
But also—
Freedom.
I signed.
The moment my pen left the paper, he stood up.
"Welcome to the deal, Miss Rao."
"Alina," I corrected softly.
He paused.
"Alina," he repeated.
My name sounded different in his voice.
Darker.
He walked toward me and extended his hand.
I hesitated for half a second before placing mine in his.
His grip was firm.
Warm.
Steady.
And for a brief second—
Something shifted.
Not in him.
In me.
A warning.
A whisper in my chest telling me this wasn't just a contract.
It was the beginning of something I wouldn't be able to control.
What I didn't know then was this—
Arjun Malhotra didn't make fake deals.
And I wasn't hired to save his reputation.
I was hired because I looked exactly like the girl who had once broken him.
Chapter 2 — The First Performance
"Be ready by seven," Arjun had said.
That was all.
No details. No softness. No room for argument.
At exactly 6:58 p.m., I stood outside his penthouse apartment, wearing a dress I could never afford. Deep emerald green. Elegant. Dangerous.
It wasn't mine.
Everything about tonight wasn't mine.
The door opened.
And there he was.
Black tuxedo. No tie. Sleeves perfectly tailored.
Effortlessly powerful.
His eyes slowly moved from my heels to my face.
Not in admiration.
In assessment.
"You clean up well," he said.
"That almost sounded like a compliment."
"It wasn't."
I forced a smile. "Of course."
He stepped closer — too close.
"You look nervous."
"I'm not."
"You're lying."
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it briefly.
"The media is already there," he said. "Stay close to me. Don't speak unless necessary. Smile naturally."
"Define naturally."
His gaze dropped to my lips for a second.
"Like you're in love."
My heart betrayed me by skipping.
"It's fake," I reminded him.
"Yes," he said calmly. "So don't start believing it."
The event was larger than I imagined.
Flashing cameras. Luxury cars. Influential guests.
The moment we stepped out, cameras exploded.
"Arjun! Over here!"
"Is that your fiancée?"
"When did this happen?"
His hand slid around my waist.
Firm.
Possessive.
And very convincing.
I stiffened.
"Relax," he murmured near my ear. "They're watching."
I forced myself to soften. To lean slightly into him.
Play the role.
Smile.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
The lights were blinding.
But his grip on my waist grounded me.
For someone who claimed this was just business…
he held me like I belonged there.
Like I belonged to him.
Inside the hall, whispers followed us.
"That's her?"
"She's not from any elite family."
"She looks… ordinary."
Each word hit, but I kept smiling.
Because this was a contract.
And contracts didn't allow emotions.
Suddenly, a woman in a red gown approached us.
Tall. Beautiful. Confident.
Too confident.
"Arjun," she said smoothly. "You didn't tell me you were getting engaged."
Her eyes moved to me — sharp and evaluating.
"I don't owe you updates, Meera."
Meera.
The name felt heavy.
She smiled slightly. "Of course not. I just didn't expect you to replace me so quickly."
Replace.
The air shifted.
I felt Arjun's hand tighten around my waist.
"She isn't a replacement," he said coldly. "She's my future."
Future.
The word echoed in my chest.
Meera's smile faltered for half a second.
Then she turned to me.
"You should be careful," she said sweetly. "Arjun doesn't do love."
Before I could respond, Arjun pulled me closer.
"That will be all, Meera."
She walked away.
But the damage was done.
I looked up at him.
"She's your ex."
"That's irrelevant."
"She didn't look irrelevant."
His jaw hardened.
"This is why I said no questions about my past."
"And this is why fake relationships are messy," I shot back softly.
His eyes darkened.
"You're here to act. Not analyze."
That hurt more than I expected.
I stepped slightly away from him.
"Fine."
For the rest of the evening, we performed perfectly.
He laughed when needed.
I touched his arm naturally.
We looked unstoppable.
Untouchable.
But beneath the surface…
Something was cracking.
When we finally returned to his penthouse, silence followed us inside.
The door closed.
No cameras.
No audience.
Just us.
He loosened his cufflinks.
"You did well," he said.
"Thank you."
"You handled Meera better than I expected."
"So there was something to handle."
He looked at me.
Really looked at me.
"She was a mistake."
"And I'm not?"
His expression changed.
Not anger.
Something deeper.
"You're a solution."
The word hit differently.
A solution.
Not a person.
Not a partner.
Just a solution.
I nodded slowly.
"Good," I said. "Then don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're trying to figure out whether I'll break too."
Silence.
Heavy.
Then he stepped closer.
Close enough that I could feel his breath.
"You won't break," he said quietly.
"How do you know?"
His fingers lifted slightly… almost touching my face… then stopped.
"Because I chose you."
And for some reason…
That didn't feel reassuring.
What I didn't know that night was this—
Meera wasn't the only ghost from Arjun's past.
And I wasn't just chosen because I looked convincing.
I was chosen because I reminded him of someone he lost.
And soon…
I would find out exactly who.