Before he entered my life, I was just a struggling artist drowning in emails of rejection and rent reminders. Musk, Damien. billionaire. chilly. imposing. Risky. He made me an irresistible offer: he would finance my painting career if I pretended to be his girlfriend for a year. No feelings. No inquiries. One contract would make all the difference. I believed I could make it through. I believed I could pretend. However, the more time I spent with him, the more I realized that there was something cruel and damaged underneath his flawless smile. I told myself that a man like him was not someone I could fall for. Until I did. I discovered the hidden door in his penthouse just when I believed I understood who he was. I'm not sure if I'm falling into a trap I'll never get out of, or for the man behind the mask.