.ELARA'S POV
1369 Words
The slap echoed in my mind for days.
I'd been fired from the bar immediately. The manager didn't care that the man had touched me without permission. Didn't care that I was defending myself. All he cared about was that I'd assaulted a customer.
So now I had no job again. No money. No prospects.
I was sitting on a bench in Central Park, trying to figure out my next move, when a man in a suit approached me.
"Elara Quinn?" he asked.
I looked up warily.
"Who's asking?"
"I have something for you." He handed me an envelope. Thick, expensive paper. My name written in elegant script across the front.
Before I could ask questions, he walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
I stared at the envelope for a long moment before opening it.
Inside was a letter on heavy cream stationary with a letterhead I didn't recognize. Crowe Industries.
The message was brief:
Miss Quinn,
I have a business proposal that may interest you. Please meet me at my office tomorrow at 2 PM to discuss.
Sebastian Crowe
CEO, Crowe Industries
An address was printed at the bottom. A building in Midtown Manhattan.
I read it three times, trying to understand. Who was Sebastian Crowe? What kind of business proposal? How did he even know my name?
That night, I used free wifi at a coffee shop to research him.
Sebastian Crowe was a billionaire. One of the richest men in the country. His company, Crowe Industries, dealt in technology, real estate, and private security. But there was almost no information about the man himself.
No interviews. Barely any photographs. The few images I found showed a tall man in expensive suits, always photographed from a distance or with his face partially hidden.
He was a ghost. A phantom who controlled billions of dollars but lived completely out of the public eye.
What could someone like that possibly want with me?
The next day, I stood outside the address from the letter. A massive skyscraper that seemed to pierce the clouds. Glass and steel, modern and imposing.
I almost turned around and left. This felt wrong. Dangerous.
But I had nothing left to lose.
I pushed through the revolving doors into a lobby that screamed wealth. Marble floors. Modern art on the walls. Everything pristine and cold.
A receptionist looked up as I approached.
"Can I help you?"
"I have a meeting with Sebastian Crowe. My name is Elara Quinn."
She typed something into her computer, then nodded.
"Yes, Miss Quinn. You're expected. Take the private elevator to the top floor."
She gestured to an elevator separate from the others. Two security guards stood on either side of it.
My heart started racing as I approached. The guards didn't smile. Didn't speak. Just stepped aside to let me pass.
The elevator doors closed and I was alone, watching the numbers climb. Tenth floor. Twentieth. Thirtieth.
Finally, it stopped at sixty-two. The top floor.
The doors opened onto a hallway that was more like a gallery. Expensive art on the walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows offering views of the entire city.
Another security guard was waiting.
"This way, Miss Quinn."
He led me down the hallway to a set of double doors at the end. He knocked once, then pushed them open.
"Miss Quinn," he announced, then stepped aside.
I walked into the largest office I'd ever seen. It was all glass and steel, just like the rest of the building. A massive desk sat in the center.
A man stood by the windows, his back to me, hands in his pockets.
He turned as I entered.
My breath caught in my throat.
Sebastian Crowe was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. And somehow, that beauty felt dangerous.
He was tall, well over six feet, wearing a black suit that probably cost more than my entire year's rent. His hair was dark, perfectly styled. But it was his eyes that held me frozen.
Pale gray, almost silver.
His face could have been carved from marble. Sharp cheekbones. Strong jaw. Features that were too perfect to be entirely human.
"Miss Quinn," he said. His voice was deep, controlled, with an edge that made my skin prickle.
"Thank you for coming."
"I don't understand," I said, my voice smaller than I wanted.
"Why am I here?"
He didn't smile.
"Sit."
It wasn't a request. It was a command.
I sat in the chair across from his desk, my hands folded in my lap to hide their shaking.
Sebastian moved to his desk and sat down, leaning back in his chair. Those gray eyes never left my face.
"I know about your situation," he said.
My stomach dropped.
"What situation?"
"Your father's debts. Three hundred seventy-two thousand dollars. Your eviction. The fact that you're currently homeless and unemployed."
Heat flooded my face.
"How do you know that?"
He ignored my question.
"I have a solution to your problem."
"I don't understand. Why would you care about my problems?"
"Because I have a problem of my own. And you can help me solve it."
I waited, my heart pounding.
"I need a wife," Sebastian said. His voice was completely emotionless, like he was discussing a business transaction. Which, I realized, he was.
"For exactly one year."
I blinked.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I'm in the process of securing a merger with a conservative political family. They require their business partners to be married. Stable. Respectable. I need a wife to make that happen."
"So hire an actress. Pay someone to pretend."
"I need it to be legal. Real. Documented."
"And you're asking me because..."
"Because you're desperate. Because you have nothing to lose. And because I'm offering you something you need."
"Which is?"
"I'll pay off all your debts," he said.
"Every single one. You'll start with a clean slate. Additionally, I'll give you a million-dollar settlement at the end of the year. And I'll ensure you can finish your degree at any university you choose."
The numbers made my head spin. A million dollars. My debts paid. A chance to finish school.
It sounded too good to be true.
"What's the catch?" I asked.
"The catch is that for one year, you belong to me. You live in my home. You attend events as my wife. You follow my rules without question. You—"
A sharp knock on the door interrupted him.
Sebastian's jaw tightened, irritation flashing across his face.
"What?"
One of the security guards entered quickly. He leaned down and whispered something in Sebastian's ear.
Sebastian's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Something dark.
"Let him in," he said quietly.
The guard nodded and left.
I sat there, confused, as silence stretched between us.
Then the door burst open.
A man stumbled in, held by two security guards. He was wearing a mask, black fabric covering everything except his eyes. His clothes were expensive but disheveled, like he'd been in a fight.
"You monster!" he screamed, his voice raw with rage and pain.
"How could you do this?"
He lunged forward, trying to grab Sebastian's shirt despite the guards holding him back.
Sebastian stood slowly, his face completely calm. Cold.
"How could you?" the masked man yelled again, his voice breaking.
The guards yanked him backward, but he kept struggling, kept screaming.
I pressed myself against my chair, my heart racing. What was happening? Who was this man? What had Sebastian done?
"Get him out," Sebastian said, his voice still eerily calm.
"No! You don't get to just—" The masked man's words were cut off as the guards dragged him toward the door.
He fought the entire way, trying to break free, trying to reach Sebastian.
Then he was gone, the door slamming shut behind them.
His screams echoed down the hallway, getting fainter and fainter until they disappeared completely.
Silence fell over the office.
Sebastian sat back down like nothing had happened. Like a masked man hadn't just burst in screaming about something terrible he'd done.
He looked at me, his expression unreadable.
"Where were we?" he asked calmly.
I stared at him, my mouth dry, my mind racing.
What had I just witnessed?
- Writer
