Chapter 1
The first time Khloe Roswell saw Adrian White, he looked like a man who had never needed anything from anyone.
He stood at the end of a long glass table inside the tallest building in the city, his dark suit perfectly cut, his expression calm in the kind of way that made people nervous. The afternoon light from the floor-to-ceiling windows cast a silver glow across the room, but it didn’t soften him. Nothing about Adrian White seemed soft.
Khloe had heard of him before that day. Everyone had.
Billionaire. CEO. Ruthless in business. Cold in everything else.
And yet, somehow, she had been called into his office.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as she stood near the door, feeling painfully out of place among the polished marble floors and expensive art hanging on the walls.
Adrian didn’t look at her immediately. He finished reading the document in his hand, placed it calmly on the table, then finally lifted his eyes.
Those eyes were sharp.
Observant.
The kind that made you feel as if nothing about you could remain hidden.
“So,” he said evenly. “You’re Khloe Roswell.”
Khloe straightened a little. “Yes.”
His gaze lingered on her face for a moment longer than necessary.
Not in admiration.
In evaluation.
Like she was a decision he was still considering.
She swallowed.
“You asked to see me.”
Adrian nodded slightly and moved toward the table, resting one hand against the edge. “Sit.”
It wasn’t a request.
Khloe sat.
She had no idea why she had been invited here. The email from his company had been brief. It simply asked her to attend an interview regarding a “private opportunity.”
Normally she would have ignored something so vague, but desperation had a way of making people take risks.
Her rent was overdue.
Her part-time café job barely covered groceries.
And her savings had disappeared months ago.
So she came.
Adrian studied her for another moment before speaking again.
“You’re twenty-six,” he said.
“Yes.”
“You studied architecture for two years.”
Khloe blinked.
“Yes… but I had to drop out.”
“I know.”
Of course he knew.
Men like Adrian White didn’t invite strangers into their offices without knowing everything about them first.
“What exactly is this job?” she asked carefully.
Adrian didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he opened a drawer and pulled out a thin folder.
He placed it on the table and slid it toward her.
“Read it.”
Khloe hesitated before opening it.
Inside was a document.
A contract.
Her eyes moved slowly over the first lines.
And then she froze.
For a moment she thought she had misunderstood.
She read it again.
And again.
Her heart started beating faster.
Finally she looked up at him.
“You want me,” she said slowly, “to pretend to be your wife.”
Adrian’s expression didn’t change.
“Yes.”
The word settled in the room like something heavy.
Khloe stared at him.
“Is this a joke?”
“No.”
“You’re serious?”
“Completely.”
Her mind raced.
Of all the strange things she had expected to hear today, this had never crossed her mind.
“You’re a billionaire,” she said. “You could marry anyone.”
“I don’t want to marry anyone.”
“Then why…..”
“A business agreement,” Adrian interrupted calmly. “A very large one.”
He walked toward the window, looking down at the city far below.
“The investors I’m negotiating with believe strongly in… traditional values. They prefer to partner with men who appear stable. Settled. Married.”
Khloe frowned.
“So you want to pretend.”
“Yes.”
She stared at the contract again.
“You’re asking a stranger to fake a marriage.”
“Not a real marriage,” he said. “A contract.”
“How long?”
“Six months.”
The room went quiet.
Six months.
It sounded both short and impossibly long.
“What exactly would I have to do?” she asked cautiously.
Adrian turned back to her.
“Live in my house. Attend certain public events with me. Appear convincing.”
Khloe felt her face grow warm.
“And that’s all?”
Adrian’s gaze was steady.
“That’s all.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him.
“And after six months?”
“The contract ends. You leave.”
Simple.
No strings attached
Like a business deal.
Her eyes drifted to the final page.
And then she saw the number written there.
Her breath caught.
It was more money than she had ever imagined holding in her life.
“Is this real?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Why me?” She asked still curious
Adrian studied her quietly before answering.
“You have no public reputation to damage. No ties that complicate things. And according to my research…” his gaze sharpened slightly, “you’re honest.”
Khloe almost laughed.
Honest.
Maybe that was the only thing she had left.
Still, something about the entire situation felt dangerous.
The kind of dangerous that didn’t shout or threaten openly, but lingered quietly in the air, waiting for the moment when everything could fall apart.
Khloe’s fingers rested on the edge of the folder. The thick paper inside suddenly felt heavier than it should have.
“This is insane,” she murmured.
Across the table, Adrian White didn’t react the way most people would. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t try to convince her it wasn’t strange. He simply stood there with the same calm, controlled expression he had worn since she entered his office.
“It’s practical,” he said.
Practical.
Khloe almost laughed at the word.
Pretending to marry a billionaire for six months was apparently practical now.
She closed the folder slowly, the soft sound of the paper sliding against itself filling the quiet office. For a moment she simply stared at the polished surface of the glass table, trying to gather her thoughts.
“Can I think about it?” she asked.
Adrian nodded once.
“Of course” he answered calmly
But when Khloe lifted her eyes and looked at him, something in his gaze made her uneasy.
There was no pressure in it.
Just certainty.
As if he already knew what her decision would be.
Because people with empty bank accounts rarely had the luxury of saying no.
By the time Khloe returned to her apartment, the sky had turned dark with rain clouds.
The hallway of the building smelled faintly of damp walls and old paint. The lights flickered as she walked past the narrow staircase toward her door.
This building had never been luxurious, but lately it felt even smaller, even more tired.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The apartment greeted her with silence.
A single small living space, a narrow kitchen corner, and a bedroom that barely fit a bed and a dresser. The ceiling fan hummed softly as it rotated above her.
Khloe dropped her bag on the couch and stood there for a moment, staring at nothing.
Then she pulled the folder from her bag.
The contract.
She placed it carefully on the small table beside the couch and sank down slowly, her body suddenly heavy with exhaustion.
The rain outside began to fall.
Soft at first.
Then harder.
Droplets tapped against the window like quiet fingers.
Her mind replayed the conversation in Adrian’s office over and over again.
Pretend to be his wife.
Six months.
A contract marriage.
The words sounded absurd every time she thought about them.
Her phone buzzed briefly on the table, interrupting her thoughts.
A message from the landlord.
Her stomach tightened even before she opened it.
“Miss Roswell, I knocked earlier but you were not home. This is the final reminder. If your rent is not paid by tomorrow morning, I will have no choice but to ask you to vacate the apartment.”
Khloe exhaled slowly.
Final reminder.
The words felt heavier than they should.
She leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes for a moment.
It hadn’t always been like this.
There had been a time when she had plans. Real plans.
Architecture school. Designing buildings. Creating things that would last.
But life had a strange way of rearranging dreams when you least expected it.
Her mother had gotten sick during Khloe’s second year in school. Hospital bills piled up quickly. Khloe had taken extra shifts, then eventually dropped out to work full-time.
Her mother passed away the following winter.
And after that, everything else slowly began to fall apart.
Khloe opened her eyes again and looked at the contract.
The folder sat quietly on the table as if it were just another ordinary document.
But it wasn’t ordinary.
Six months.
Pretend to be the wife of a man she barely knew.
Live in his mansion.
Attend events.
Smile for cameras.
Lie to everyone.
Her stomach twisted at the thought.
Khloe had never been good at lying.
She picked up the folder again and opened it.
The pages were filled with neat paragraphs outlining the arrangement in precise detail.
Residence at Adrian White’s private estate.
Participation in social and business events.
Public representation as his fiancée and later his wife.
Confidentiality clauses.
Privacy agreements.
And at the bottom of the final page
The payment.
Her breath caught every time she looked at the number.
It was enough to erase her debts.
Enough to pay rent for years.
Enough to go back to school.
Enough to start again.
Khloe closed the folder and placed it back on the table, pressing her fingers against her forehead.
“This is crazy,” she whispered to herself.
Outside, thunder rumbled faintly in the distance.
She stood up and walked toward the window.
Rain streamed down the glass in long thin lines, blurring the streetlights outside.
For a moment, she imagined what Adrian’s world must look like right now.
A mansion.
Warm lighting.
Quiet luxury.
People who worked for him.
A life where money was never a problem.
And somehow he wanted to bring her into that world.
Even if it was only pretend.
Khloe let out a small laugh under her breath.
If someone had told her yesterday that a billionaire would ask her to marry him fake or not she would have assumed they were joking.
Yet here she was.
Standing in her tiny apartment.
Holding a contract that could change everything.
But it could also ruin everything.
What if people found out?
What if things became complicated?
What if Adrian White was more dangerous than he appeared?
She remembered the way he had looked at her earlier
A man used to getting exactly what he wanted.
Khloe returned to the couch and sat down again.
The rain continued to fall outside, steady and endless.
Hours passed slowly.
She tried to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, the same thoughts returned.
Six months.
Six months pretending to love someone.
Six months living in a world that wasn’t hers.
But after that…
Freedom.
A new beginning.
Her landlord knocked on the door again that evening.
Three sharp knocks.
Khloe froze before opening it.
He stood there with his usual serious expression.
“Miss Roswell,” he said.
“I know,” she replied quietly.
“Tomorrow morning.”
“I understand.”
He nodded once and walked away.
Khloe closed the door and leaned her back against it.
Tomorrow morning.
Her eyes drifted back to the contract on the table.
The apartment suddenly felt smaller than ever.
The walls.
The old couch.
The dim lighting.
Everything reminded her of how stuck she had become.
Slowly, she pushed herself away from the door and walked back to the table.
She picked up the contract again.
Six months.
It wasn’t forever.
She just had to survive six months.
Khloe sat there until late into the night, the rain gradually fading into silence.
By the time the sky outside began to lighten with early morning gray, exhaustion had replaced most of her doubt.
She had spent hours weighing the risks.
And every time, the same truth returned.
She had no better option.
Khloe stood up slowly and walked to her bedroom.
The small mirror above her dresser reflected a tired face staring back at her.
“You can do this,” she murmured softly.
Even if she wasn’t entirely sure.
She took a quick shower, dressed in the neatest clothes she owned, and tied her hair back.
Then she picked up the folder one last time.
The contract felt cold beneath her fingers.
Khloe slipped it into her bag, grabbed her coat, and stepped outside.
