Chapter 2 - The Six-Month ContractI stared at my worn green notebook sitting in the palm of Ryan Blackwood’s hand, then raised my eyes to meet his unyielding gaze.
"You read my book?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the swelling music of the ballroom.
"Every word," Ryan replied smoothly, setting the notebook on the table beside us. "Your character development is exquisite, your narrative structure is sharp, and your perspective on human ambition is ruthless. You write like someone who understands pain. That makes you valuable."
"Valuable?" I let out a dry, bitter laugh, folding my arms across my chest. "Mr. Blackwood, I work twelve-hour shifts pouring coffee for tips. My fiancé abandoned me three months ago because I wasn't 'ambitious' enough. I am currently sitting at the singles table at my cousin's wedding in a dress I paid off in installments. I don't belong in your world."
"That is precisely why you are perfect," Ryan said, stepping so close I could smell the subtle amber scent on his collar. "My board of directors is pushing for a thirty-billion-dollar merger with the Vane Media Conglomerate. The chairman, Arthur Vane, is a traditionalist. He refuses to sign off on major multi-billion-dollar deals with unmarried executives because he believes single men are unpredictable liabilities."
I blinked, processing his words. "So you need a temporary wife to satisfy a conservative billionaire."
"I need a wife who doesn't want my money, who isn't allied with my corporate enemies, and who possesses enough intelligence to hold her own in a room full of sharks," Ryan corrected, his dark eyes fixing on mine with sharp appraisal. "In exchange for six months of public appearances as Mrs. Blackwood, I will clear your student loans, fund the publication and global distribution of your novel, and provide you with a ten-million-dollar settlement when the divorce is finalized."
My head reeled. Ten million dollars. My book published globally. My family's debts wiped clean in a single stroke.
"And what about Daniel?" I asked quietly, my hands clenching into fists. "What about his family?"
A dark, dangerous smirk touched Ryan’s sharp jawline. "Daniel Whitmore’s new girlfriend in Los Angeles is the daughter of Julian Vane—Arthur Vane’s nephew. Daniel is trying to use that relationship to secure a vice-presidential seat at Vane Media. When Daniel discovers that the woman he abandoned is now married to the man who owns the entire parent board... he will crawl on his knees back to Boston just to beg for your mercy."
A wave of fierce, intoxicating heat flared in my chest. For three months, I had carried the shame of being discarded, of being told I wasn't enough. Now, the most powerful man in the country was handing me the key to absolute retribution.
"What are the rules?" I asked, leaning in.
"Rule number one," Ryan said, his voice dropping into a deep, possessive murmur. "We live together in my Beacon Hill estate. Rule number two: in public, we are wildly, deeply in love. Rule number three..."
He reached out, his long fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his touch sending a shudder down my spine.
"...you never forget that this is a contract."
"Agreed," I breathed.
Before I could pull away, a sudden commotion erupted near the entrance of the ballroom.
The heavy double doors swung open, and a man walked in, flanked by two security guards. He was wearing an expensive tuxedo, but his face was flushed, his eyes searching the room frantically.
My blood turned to ice.
May you like
It was Daniel.
He had flown in from Los Angeles. And the moment his eyes scanned the room, they locked directly onto me... and the billionaire whose arm was wrapped firmly around my waist.
