Chapter Three: Sasha Bennett
1023 Words
The next morning arrived with sunlight streaming through the wide glass panes of Nate's office. He sat at his desk, fingers steepled, staring blankly at the city skyline. He hadn't slept much. Thoughts of Harold’s ultimatum and the plan he’d begun forming gnawed at his composure. He hated this. Hated the idea of pretending to love someone. Hated needing anyone.
But he hated the thought of losing everything even more.
A soft knock on the door interrupted his brooding.
"Come in," Nate said, voice low.
Ethan walked in, a smug grin dancing across his face. In his hands was a neat manila folder. “I’ve got the report you requested.”
Nate gestured for him to continue.
“Her name’s Sasha Bennett,” Ethan said, placing the file on the desk. “Only child. Lives alone in a modest apartment downtown. Waitress at Brio’s for over two years. Used to study literature, dropped out when her mom fell sick.”
Nate arched a brow and opened the folder, his eyes scanning over photos, receipts, medical records, and some hospital invoices. “Her mother’s ill?”
“Yeah. Late-stage kidney failure. Sasha’s been trying to keep up with the bills, but it’s clearly overwhelming. They’re behind on three months’ payments. Hospital’s threatening to pull treatment.”
For a brief moment, Nate’s jaw tightened. He stared at the photo of a tired-looking but strong-eyed woman standing beside an older lady in a hospital bed. His fingers grazed over the edge of the image, the weight of her situation sinking in.
He hated that it made him feel something. Sympathy was a dangerous thing in his world.
“She’s stubborn,” Ethan added. “Fiery too. Told you off pretty good the last time you ran into her.”
Nate sighed. “Exactly why I chose her. There’s no chance she’d mistake this for a real romance. That’s the last thing I need. She won’t fall for me, and I definitely won’t fall for her.”
“You sure?” Ethan smirked. “You two might just end up boxing each other instead of making an heir.”
Nate ignored the jab. “Make the call. Set up a meeting. Tonight. I want to talk to her directly. Use her manager. 8 p.m.”
“Got it.” Ethan left the room, his amused chuckle fading as the door shut behind him.
At precisely 8 p.m., Nate sat at a private corner booth at Brio’s, dressed in a tailored black suit, waiting. He sipped his scotch slowly, gaze fixed on the entrance. He didn’t like being there. The atmosphere felt too familiar, too exposed. But this had to be done.
He checked his watch. 8:03.
Then she walked in.
Sasha Bennett.
She was in her work clothes, a white shirt with a black fitted gown and matching slacks, hair tied up, expression unimpressed. Her brows furrowed the moment she spotted him.
She marched over, arms crossed. “So you’re the important guest waiting for me?” Her tone was laced with venom. “Why waste my time? You’re not important. Let me get back to actual customers.”
Nate clenched his jaw, forcing a diplomatic smile. “Hi, Sasha. Good evening to you too.”
“There’s nothing good about this evening,” she snapped.
“Look, I know you don’t like me, which is perfect. I’m not fond of you either. But I believe we can help each other.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Help each other? What sort of joke is that?”
“I’m serious,” Nate replied. “Just hear me out. I know this sounds crazy, but I need you to marry me.”
Sasha blinked. Then blinked again. “I’m sorry… what?”
“It would be a fake marriage,” he clarified quickly. “Just an arrangement. We pretend to be in love for the public and most importantly my father. It won’t be long-term. I’ll pay whatever amount you ask.”
For a second, she was silent. Then, suddenly, she threw her head back and laughed. Hard.
The kind of laughter that turned heads in the restaurant.
Nate’s fake smile strained as she doubled over, wheezing from how absurd she found the proposal.
“You can’t be serious,” she said between giggles. “You definitely can’t. I haven’t laughed this hard in weeks.”
“I’m being completely serious,” Nate replied stiffly.
Sasha’s laughter faded, but her mocking smile remained. “Who do you think you are? Just because you have money and assets, you think you can throw cash around and expect everyone to jump at your offer?”
“I’m not trying to insult you,” Nate said, voice calm but firm. “What I’m offering could change your life. Your mother’s treatments”
She straightened, her eyes now sharp and cold. “So you went behind my back and stalked me? Thinking you can use that to manipulate your way into my life?”
“It’s not manipulation. It’s a proposal. A business arrangement.”
“You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head. “This is disgusting.”
Nate reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a sleek black business card, placing it gently on the table.
“When you’re ready, call me.”
“I won’t be.”
Nate stood up, straightening his jacket. “Think about it. You won’t have to like me. We just need to act. I’ll handle everything. You’ll have full access to funds for your mother’s care, and you’ll walk away with enough to build any life you want after.”
“You really think that’s how life works?” she asked bitterly. “Throw money at a problem and hope it solves everything?”
He paused, glancing back at her. “No. But sometimes it’s the only solution left.”
Without waiting for a response, Nate turned and walked out, leaving Sasha staring at the business card as if it were a piece of burning coal.
He didn’t need her to say yes tonight. But he knew sooner or later, she’d come around.
- Writer
