Chapter 1: The Morning After
A blinding ray of sunlight sliced through the sheer curtains, landing directly on Aira Monteverde’s face. She groaned, her head pounding like a drum as she blinked her eyes open.
Her first thought:
Where am I?
Her second:
Why does my body feel like I just got hit by a train?
And then she noticed—she was naked under unfamiliar silk sheets. Her eyes widened as panic surged through her.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, clutching the blanket to her chest. Her gaze darted around the room—white walls, expensive-looking decor, a floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the city. Definitely not her tiny apartment.
And then, she saw him.
A tall, broad-shouldered man stood by the mini-bar, wearing nothing but gray pajama pants. His hair was slightly messy, but his face was impossible to ignore—sharp jawline, sculpted features, and eyes so intense they felt like lasers.
He was sipping coffee.
"You're awake," he said coolly.
Aira gripped the blanket tighter. “Wh-who are you?”
“Elian Navarro.”
Her stomach dropped.
Elian Navarro? The CEO?
The same Elian Navarro who owned half the city’s real estate? The man who rarely gave interviews and was always surrounded by mystery?
“This must be a mistake,” she said breathlessly.
He walked over to her with calm, calculated steps and handed her a paper.
It was a marriage certificate.
Her name. His name.
Their signatures.
Officially stamped and dated—last night.
“No. No, no, no,” she muttered, flipping it over as if it might vanish. “This can’t be real. I don't even remember anything!”
“You were drunk. We both were,” Elian replied, still composed. “Apparently, we got married in a private ceremony.”
Her head spun. “We got married by accident?!”
“It happens,” he said casually, as if discussing the weather.
Aira clutched her head. This couldn’t be happening. She had bills to pay, clients waiting, and zero space in her life for some ultra-rich, emotionally-dead stranger.
But Elian wasn’t done.
“I have a solution,” he said, setting his coffee cup down.
Aira looked at him, eyes narrowed. “I’m listening.”
“We stay married—for six months. No emotional ties. No expectations. I’ll compensate you generously. After that, we file for divorce and go our separate ways.”
She blinked. “You want me to stay married to you like... like a business deal?”
“That’s exactly what this is.”
Aira opened her mouth to argue—then paused. Rent. Her struggling events business. Her sick mother.
And a deal with a billionaire? She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted.
Still, she frowned. “This is insane.”
“Maybe,” Elian said, his voice flat, “but it’s also clean, simple, and solves both our problems.”
Aira stared at him. This man, this situation—none of it made sense.
And yet, in that moment, her gut told her that this ‘mistake’ was only the beginning.
