His unexpected choice

AMELIA’S POV

I should have known my day was going to be a disaster the moment I woke up to seventeen missed calls from my landlord.

Seventeen.

Who calls someone seventeen times before eight in the morning?

Apparently, Mr. Wilson.

I stared at my phone from beneath my blanket, debating whether pretending to be dead would buy me another week to pay my rent.

Probably not.

The man would probably attend my funeral and ask my family for the money.

“Amelia!”

I groaned and pulled my pillow over my head.

“Amelia, if you don’t get up right now, I swear I’m leaving you!”

That was Chloe.

My best friend.

My personal alarm clock.

And quite possibly the loudest woman alive.

“I’m awake!” I shouted.

“Then why are you still in bed?”

“Because I’m contemplating my life choices!”

“Contemplate them in the bathroom. Your interview is in two hours!”

My eyes snapped open.

My interview.

“Oh, God.”

I practically threw myself out of bed.

My feet hit the floor, and I nearly tripped over the pile of clothes I’d left beside my bed the night before.

Today was important.

Today was supposed to change my life.

After three months of unemployment, dozens of rejected applications, and surviving on cheap noodles and whatever Chloe could afford to share with me, I’d finally gotten an interview at one of the biggest companies in the city.

Blackwood Holdings.

Just hearing the name made my stomach twist.

The company was worth billions.

Its headquarters stood in the heart of the city like a giant glass monument to wealth.

And its CEO?

Alexander Blackwood.

Thirty years old.

Billionaire.

Extremely private.

And, according to the internet, absolutely terrifying.

Not that I cared.

I wasn’t going there to meet a billionaire.

I was going there for a job.

I needed money.

Desperately.

“Chloe!” I yelled while searching through my wardrobe. “Where’s my white shirt?”

“In your wardrobe!”

“It isn’t here!”

“Then check the chair!”

I turned around.

My white shirt was lying on the chair.

I stared at it.

Then at the ceiling.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.”

Chloe burst out laughing.

“Just get dressed!”

Forty minutes later, I stood in front of the cracked mirror in our tiny apartment.

White blouse.

Black pencil skirt.

Black heels.

My hair was finally cooperating.

I looked… decent.

Not rich.

Definitely not glamorous.

But decent.

Chloe walked into the room and looked me up and down.

“You look beautiful.”

“Beautiful enough to get a job?”

“Beautiful enough to marry the CEO.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I’d rather marry the job.”

She laughed.

“Go get that job, babe.”

I grabbed my handbag.

“I will.”

At least, that was the plan.

By the time I arrived at Blackwood Holdings, my confidence had disappeared.

The building was enormous.

Glass walls stretched toward the sky, reflecting the morning sunlight.

People walked through the revolving doors wearing expensive suits and designer clothes.

I looked down at my shoes.

Suddenly, my cheap heels felt painfully obvious.

I took a deep breath.

“Okay, Amelia.”

I whispered to myself.

“You can do this.”

I walked inside.

The lobby was beautiful.

Marble floors.

Crystal chandeliers.

A huge black-and-gold reception desk.

Everything screamed money.

I approached the receptionist.

“Good morning. I’m here for the executive assistant interview.”

She looked up.

“Name?”

“Amelia Carter.”

She typed something into her computer.

“Twenty-third floor. You’re expected at nine.”

I checked my phone.

8:57.

Perfect.

I hurried toward the elevators.

My phone suddenly started ringing.

Mr. Wilson.

Again.

I rejected the call.

It rang again.

I rejected it.

Again.

I sighed.

“Why won’t this man give me peace?”

I shoved my phone into my bag and hurried toward the elevator.

The doors were closing.

“Please hold it!”

Someone inside pressed the button.

I rushed forward.

And crashed straight into a solid wall of muscle.

My handbag fell from my shoulder.

My coffee flew out of my hand.

The cup spun through the air.

And then—

SPLASH.

Hot coffee covered the front of an expensive black suit.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

I slowly lifted my head.

And immediately wished I hadn’t.

The man standing in front of me was…

Ridiculously handsome.

Tall.

Broad shoulders.

Perfectly trimmed beard.

Sharp jaw.

Dark eyes.

Very expensive suit.

Very expensive watch.

And an expression that could freeze water.

His eyes dropped to his ruined suit.

Then slowly returned to mine.

“Are you blind?”

I blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

I looked at his suit.

Then at the empty cup on the floor.

“I’m really sorry. It was an accident.”

He stared at me.

“You just poured coffee all over me.”

“I know.”

“And you’re telling me it was an accident?”

I frowned.

“Do you think I woke up this morning and planned to ruin your suit?”

His eyebrow lifted.

“You seem surprisingly calm.”

“I’m not calm.”

I picked up my handbag.

“I’m terrified. But I also have an interview to get to.”

He glanced at me.

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“Which department?”

“Executive assistant.”

Something flickered in his eyes.

But it disappeared so quickly that I wasn’t sure I’d seen it.

I stepped around him.

“Look, I’m sorry about your suit. I’ll pay for the cleaning.”

His expression hardened.

“You’ll pay for it?”

I nodded.

“Yes.”

“How?”

I froze.

That was a very good question.

My bank account currently contained enough money to buy approximately three meat pies.

“I’m… working on that part.”

The man stared at me.

For some reason, I suddenly felt the need to defend myself.

“I apologized. You don’t have to be rude.”

His eyebrows rose.

“Rude?”

“Yes.”

“You ruined my suit.”

“And I apologized.”

“You’re quite bold.”

“And you’re quite arrogant.”

Silence.

The man behind him suddenly coughed.

I glanced at him.

He was clearly trying not to laugh.

The handsome stranger shot him a look.

The man immediately looked away.

I rolled my eyes.

“Whatever.”

The elevator doors opened.

I stepped inside.

Just before they closed, I looked at the stranger one last time.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Arrogant.”

The doors closed.

I leaned against the elevator wall.

“Oh my God.”

What had I just done?

Twenty-third floor.

I stepped out of the elevator and immediately tried to forget the man downstairs.

I had an interview.

That was all that mattered.

Six candidates sat in the waiting area.

Everyone looked polished.

Confident.

Expensive.

I looked down at my outfit again.

You belong here.

I repeated it silently.

You belong here.

“Miss Carter?”

I looked up.

A woman stood at the doorway.

“You’re next.”

My heart began pounding.

I followed her into the interview room.

Three people sat behind a long table.

I smiled politely.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, Miss Carter. Please sit.”

I sat down.

The interview began.

Surprisingly, I did well.

They asked about my qualifications.

My previous experience.

How I handled pressure.

How I dealt with difficult people.

That last question almost made me laugh.

“I believe professionalism is important,” I answered. “But I also believe respect should be mutual.”

The older man smiled.

“Interesting.”

After almost thirty minutes, the interview ended.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Carter.”

“Thank you for the opportunity.”

I stood.

My heart sank when I heard the words I’d heard too many times before.

“We’ll be in touch.”

I nodded politely.

“Of course.”

I turned toward the door.

Then it opened.

And I froze.

Black suit.

Perfect hair.

Sharp jaw.

Those dark eyes.

The same man from the elevator.

My stomach dropped.

No.

No, no, no.

He walked into the room.

Every interviewer immediately stood.

“Good morning, Mr. Blackwood.”

My blood ran cold.

Mr. Blackwood?

I slowly turned toward him.

He looked at me.

Recognition flashed across his face.

Then his lips curved into the faintest smile.

“Well.”

His voice was calm.

Almost amused.

“Look who we have here.”

I wanted to disappear.

The older interviewer looked between us.

“Have you two met?”

Alexander Blackwood didn’t take his eyes off me.

“Oh, yes.”

He stepped farther into the room.

“Miss Carter and I have already met.”

My cheeks burned.

I wanted to explain.

But before I could speak, he said—

“Unfortunately, she made quite an impression.”

I swallowed.

The interviewers looked confused.

I looked at the floor.

Of all the people in the world…

Why him?

Why today?

Alexander walked toward the table.

“Everyone, leave.”

The room went silent.

The older man hesitated.

“Sir?”

“I said leave.”

One by one, they gathered their things.

Within seconds, the room was empty.

The door closed behind them.

I was alone with him.

Alexander sat at the head of the table.

He opened the file in front of him.

My file.

“Amelia Carter.”

I swallowed.

“Yes.”

“Twenty-four years old.”

“Yes.”

“Business Administration graduate.”

“Yes.”

“Two years of administrative experience.”

“Yes.”

“Two years of administrative experience.”

“Yes.”

He turned another page.

“Excellent qualifications.”

I relaxed slightly.

“Thank you.”

He closed the file.

“But there’s a problem.”

Of course there was.

“What problem?”

He looked directly at me.

“You insulted me before breakfast.”

My eyes widened.

“I didn’t—”

“You called me arrogant.”

I looked away.

“I said Mr. Arrogant.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“That makes it better?”

“No.”

“Good.”

I sighed.

“Look, Mr. Blackwood, I’m genuinely sorry about the coffee.”

He leaned back.

“I don’t care about the coffee.”

I frowned.

“Then what do you care about?”

His gaze remained fixed on me.

“You.”

My heart skipped.

“What?”

He stood.

Slowly.

He walked toward me.

I didn’t move.

He stopped in front of me.

“You’re qualified.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re confident.”

“I try to be.”

“You don’t seem intimidated by me.”

“I am.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re hiding it well.”

I said nothing.

He walked back to the table and picked up a folder.

He placed it in front of me.

“I’m offering you the position.”

My eyes widened.

“You are?”

“Yes.”

I opened the folder.

Then froze.

The salary.

I stared at the number.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Was that monthly?

Surely not.

“Is this… correct?”

“Yes.”

I looked up.

“Why?”

“Because I need someone competent.”

“That can’t be the only reason.”

“It isn’t.”

My stomach tightened.

“What other reason is there?”

Alexander stared at me for a long moment.

Then he said something I never expected.

“I need a fiancée.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“A fake one.”

I laughed nervously.

He didn’t.

My smile disappeared.

“You’re serious?”

“Very.”

I stared at him.

“This is a joke.”

“No.”

“Why would a billionaire need a fake fiancée?”

His expression hardened.

“Because I’m getting married in three months.”

My mouth fell open.

“But if you’re getting married…”

“I know what you’re going to say.”

He leaned forward.

“My family expects me to marry someone.”

“And?”

“And I need them to believe the engagement has been called off.”

I stared at him.

None of this made sense.

“Why me?”

His eyes met mine.

“Because you don’t know me.”

He slid the contract toward me.

“And because I think you’re desperate enough to accept.”

My jaw dropped.

“That is incredibly insulting.”

“I know.”

He stood.

“Read the contract.”

I looked down at the papers.

Then back at him.

“And if I say no?”

His expression didn’t change.

“Then you walk out of this room and we never speak again.”

I looked at the contract.

The salary.

The conditions.

The impossible request.

I should have walked away.

I should have told him he was insane.

Instead, I reached for the contract.

Because sometimes…

When life gives you a choice between dignity and survival—

you don’t always get to choose dignity.

And I had no idea that signing that piece of paper would change my life forever.