Chapter 1
“No… Sir, this is absurd.”
The coffee shop was draped in soft music.
Sunlight pooled on the table, and the air carried the warm, heavy scent of caramel and roasted beans.
Kinsley gripped her cup, her knuckles white.
“It’s a good job.”
The man sitting across from her said. His voice was calm, steady.
“High pay, short duration. All you have to do is marry me.”
He paused, his eyes locking onto hers.
“It’s no different from theperformance you gave just finished.”
“A real marriage?”
“A real marriage.”
The air in the room seemed to solidify.
She forced the words out, her throat tight.
“Does it… involve sleeping together?”
“Likely.”
The answer came without a second of hesitation.
Then, he added, “But I won’t force you.”
He offered a composed smile, but that composed look made her heart race faster than any threat ever could.
The air grew thin.
Kinsleylifted her cup and took a slow sip of her coffee, her gaze flickering restlessly beneath the sweep of her long lashes.
A cascade of heavy, chestnut waves spilled over her shoulders, shielding half of her face from his view.
She looked like a masterpiece brought to life.
“I’m only a senior in college,” shesaid, “the micro-drama was just a part-time thing.”
His gaze fell to her trembling hands.
“You need the money.”
The words slid from his lips softly, carrying the weight of absolute certainty.
Her fingertip slipped against the ceramic curve of the cup.
He looked cold, sharp, yet possessed an inexplicable elegance.
His face was more striking than any movie star’s.
His narrow, grey-blue eyes made her mind grind to a stuttering halt.
“If you’re unwilling, I can find someone else.”
“Don’t—”
The word was out before she could catch it, and regret followed instantly.
Too eager.
Too cheap.
The ghost of a smile deepened in the man’s eyes.
“You’re allowed to ask questions.”
“Why don’t you marry someone you love?” she blurted out.
“That is none of your concern.”
He replied casually, yet her hand holding the cup gave a small, traitorous jerk.
Silence stretched between them, loud enough that she could hear the frantic rhythm of her own pulse.
She took a deep breath.
“How do I know you’re not a con artist?”
Her voice felt too loud in the quiet space. Flustered, she glanced left and right.
None of the other patrons were looking their way, yet she felt as though she were being pinned down by a thousand judging eyes.
He didn’t argue, simply handed her a business card.
Aaron Hoffman
Visto Corporation
CEO & Director
Kinsley’s eyes flickered with a tremor of shock.
After a few seconds of stunned silence, she placed the card back on the table with delicate care.
“Anyone can print a business card,” she drifted into a mumble.
Then, realizing the potential offense, she looked up at him, her pulse spiking.
“I didn’t mean it like that...”
The man’s gaze remained a pool of unnatural calm.
The corner of his mouth quirked into the faintest shadow of a smirk.
He watched her for several long heartbeats before finally speaking.
“You are welcome to come to the office to verify my identity.”
As quickly as it appeared, the curve of his lips vanished.
“But after that, I will not give you any more time to hesitate.”
“Could I just—”
“No.”
He didn’t raise his voice, but the single word carried the finality of a gavel.
He had already decided for her.
--
The Visto headquarters loomed over the city.
Inside, the elevator hummed with high-speed precision as it shot toward the top floor.
Kinsley’s hands were balled into fists, her palms already slick with sweat.
This is the place everyone dreams of working.
And he... he’s the CEO?
As they stepped out, a secretary approached with practiced grace, extending a folder.
“Mr. Hoffman, the documents you requested are ready.”
He took them, his eyes scanning the pages with clinical efficiency before pushing open the doors to the CEO office.
“Read it carefully. If there are no objections, sign it. We start right now.”
The paper trembled in Kinsley’s grasp.
The clauses were clear, the compensation was staggering, and there were no obvious traps hidden in the legalese.
But it was fast.
“Are we really getting married?”
“According to the contract, you are free to refuse.”
But his tone left her no room to retreat.
She stared at the document, her feet shifting back a few inches before she braced herself.
She reached for the pen.
I need this job.
I need this money.
He doesn’t look like a bad man.
And the terms aren’t even that harsh...
The tip of the pen dug into the paper with too much force, snagging the fiber.
Aaron took the file backand signed on it.
Then, he reached out.
“A pleasure doing business with you.”
“...Likewise.”
She hesitated for a second before taking his hand, the gesture feeling more like a closed deal than a greeting.
His hand was large, powerful, and radiating an unexpected warmth.
She pulled back almost instantly, the contact searing.
“How should I address you from now on?”
“Whatever you like.”
Aaron picked up the intercom and directed his secretary to take the documents.
A few minutes later, Kinsley’s phone chimed with a notification.
“Your first payment should have cleared,” he said.
She checked the screen—there it was.
A quiet breath of relief escaped her. He’s a man of his word, at least.
Only now did she allow herself to settle and steal a glance at the man who was now, technically, her husband.
He was tall, built with a lean symmetry, his features so perfect they looked sculpted.
The high bridge of his nose and those thin, firm lips gave him an air of cold ruthlessness—and in reality, he lived up to the look.
Well, she mused to herself,
It’s not exactly a hardship for the senses.
As for the rest, I’ll deal with it when it comes.
It’s only six months, after all.
“What happens now?”
“The wedding.”
“What? I haven’t even had time to—”
He was already striding toward the door, leaving her no choice but to scramble after him.
--
As the car sped through the city, Kinsley watched the blur of traffic, a flicker of curiosity rising about what came next.
She had never worn a wedding dress before.
There had been a wedding scene in a previous script she was so excited for, only for the director to cut it at the last minute.
What does it actually feel like to wear one?
She caught his profile in her peripheral vision.
He kept his eyes fixed on the road, driving as if he weren’t even aware of the person in his passenger seat.
The silence in the car was like a cat’s claw, scratching at her nerves.
“How much longer?” she couldn’t help asking.
“Just sit back.”
He didn’t even spare her a glance.
Kinsley pressed her lips together and turned back to the window.
Upon arriving at a luxury villa, Kinsley was ushered into a room where several women were already waiting.
Wardrobe assistants helped her into the gown. A stylist worked on her hair. A makeup artist hovered over her with sponges and brushes.
She sat there, frozen like a Barbie, being fussed over and adjusted.
The dress was from a high-end couture label, a masterpiece of tiered lace and intricate detail.
Kinsley looked at herself in the mirror, her fingers brushing against the expensive fabric with a hidden spark of excitement.
This dress costs a fortune!
The lace wasn’t quite her style, but at least the wedding didn’t feel like a cheap charade.
It was surprising, really—for a man just putting on a show, he was following every standard procedure to the letter.
Kinsley felt a wave of relief wash over her, and she let the women continue to fuss over her hair and makeup.
But a dull pressure began to build in her chest.
She had stepped into the gown in such a rush that she hadn’t noticed the fit was off.
The bodice was suffocatingly tight.
She looked down, tugging at the plunging bodice, but the constricting fabric offered no reprieve.
“Don’t panic,” she told herself,“it’s just an act.”
But the contract was real. So was the ceremony and the registration.
Everything was one step further than she had anticipated.
If today is real,what does that mean for tomorrow?
The bride in the mirror was poised and radiant.
Kinsley gripped the silk of her gown tightly, her fingertips icy.
