Chapter 3: The Proposal No One Expected
740 Words
Bella had barely slept. Thoughts of Ethan haunted her, from the teasing smirk in the office to the lingering memory of his kiss at the gala. She tried to focus on her sketches, her career, her life—but every time she thought of the project, she imagined his piercing gaze and commanding presence.
And then came the call.
“Bella, come to my office,” said Ethan’s voice over the phone, low and unreadable. No explanation. No warning. Just… come.
Her stomach twisted, but she had no choice. Ethan Valerio didn’t ask—he commanded.
When she arrived, he was waiting, standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city lights cast shadows across his face, sharp and almost predatory.
“Sit,” he said curtly, motioning to the chair opposite him.
Bella obeyed, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “What’s this about?”
He studied her for a long moment. “Bella… you’re talented, ambitious, and stubborn as hell,” he began. “And that’s exactly why I’m going to propose something.”
Her heart skipped. “A proposal?” she repeated, carefully neutral. Marriage? Surely not…
He leaned forward, eyes darkening. “A contract. A fake marriage, if you will. One year. Public appearances, family obligations, business alliances. You get exposure and funding for your design studio. I get to control the rumors, the deals… and my family off my back.”
Bella blinked. “You… you want me to marry you?”
“Temporarily,” he said, sharp but measured. “Legally binding, but… not emotional. I don’t want love interfering.” His smirk returned, infuriating her. “At least not yet.”
She could feel her pulse hammering. This man is insane. “And why would I ever agree to this?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Because,” he said, leaning back, “you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted: financial stability, exposure, and a chance to beat your rivals—including Dante.”
Dante. The name stung, but Ethan didn’t let her dwell. “It’s mutually beneficial. You stay ambitious. I stay in control. Neither of us loses.”
Bella’s mind raced. A fake marriage with the man she couldn’t stop thinking about… It was insane, reckless, and impossible. And yet… the opportunity was golden. She could finally take her career to heights she’d only dreamed of.
Her hands trembled slightly. “And… we’d have to act like a real couple in public?”
“Exactly.” Ethan’s tone was calm, confident, commanding. “We’ll attend events, dinners, family gatherings. All eyes will think we’re together. And don’t worry—I’ll make sure you’re comfortable. Within reason.”
Bella’s chest tightened. Comfort. Reason. With Ethan, nothing had ever been comfortable or reasonable. And yet, somehow, she felt the pull of inevitability.
“Fine,” she said finally, her voice firm, despite the storm of emotions inside her. “One year. Contract marriage. But no feelings, no—”
Ethan held up a hand, cutting her off. “No feelings. Understood.” His smirk softened just slightly, though his eyes remained intense. “You’ll hate me, you’ll love me, and you’ll survive. That’s the deal.”
Bella exhaled, trying to steady her racing heart. I can do this. One year. One year of pretending. Then it ends.
“Good,” Ethan said, leaning back with the satisfaction of a man who’d won before the game even began. “We start immediately. Public appearances begin next week.”
Her mind screamed warning after warning. This is insane. Dangerous. Emotional suicide. Yet beneath the fear, a tiny spark of excitement ignited. A spark she couldn’t deny—or maybe didn’t want to.
As she left his office, her phone buzzed. A message from Dante:
“I heard Valerio is taking a special interest in you. Watch your step.”
Bella frowned, shoving the phone into her bag. Step carefully, indeed.
The weeks that followed were a whirlwind. Ethan was infuriatingly close, always teasing, always testing her. Meetings, dinners, and family gatherings blurred into a routine of tension, rivalry, and undeniable chemistry.
Every touch, every glance, every shared joke was electric. And yet, neither of them admitted it.
Bella hated that she thought of him constantly.
Ethan hated that he couldn’t stop thinking of her.
And all the while, the contract, the arrangement, the fake love… began weaving them into something neither expected.
Something real.
- Writer
