The Billionaire's Contacted Bride

The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the aroma of baked pastries as Alina Reyes maneuvered through the bustling café, balancing a tray laden with orders. Her worn sneakers squeaked against the tiled floor, a testament to the long hours she endured daily. "Order up!" called out Marco, the head barista, sliding a cappuccino onto the counter. Alina nodded, weaving her way to table seven, where a suited man tapped impatiently on his phone. "Your cappuccino, sir," she said, placing the cup before him. He barely acknowledged her, eyes glued to his screen. She sighed inwardly, retreating to the counter to grab the next order. The café was a whirlwind of activity, and Alina thrived in the chaos—it kept her mind occupied, away from the mounting hospital bills and her brother Leo's deteriorating health. Just as she reached for the next tray, a commotion erupted near the entrance. "That's her! I saw her slip it into her bag!" a woman shrieked. Alina turned to see a middle-aged woman pointing directly at her, eyes blazing with accusation. "Excuse me?" Alina's voice wavered. "Don't play innocent! My bracelet is gone, and you were the only one near our table!" Gasps rippled through the café as patrons turned to watch the unfolding drama. "Ma'am, I assure you, I haven't taken anything," Alina said, trying to maintain composure. The woman stormed over, grabbing Alina's bag from the counter and rummaging through it. "There! That's my bracelet!" she exclaimed, holding up a delicate gold chain. Alina's heart plummeted. "I—I don't know how that got there," she stammered. "Security!" the woman bellowed. Within moments, two uniformed guards appeared, flanking Alina. "Ma'am, we'll need you to come with us," one said, gripping her arm firmly. "Wait! This is a misunderstanding!" Alina protested, struggling against their hold. But her pleas fell on deaf ears as she was escorted out, the eyes of every patron burning into her back. --- The security office was a stark contrast to the lively café—a sterile room with harsh lighting and a single table. Alina sat, wringing her hands, as the guards reviewed surveillance footage. "Footage shows you near the table moments before the bracelet went missing," one guard stated. "I was cleaning! It's my job!" Alina retorted, frustration mounting. The door creaked open, and a tall man in an impeccable suit entered. "What's going on here?" he inquired, his voice smooth yet commanding. "Mr. Cross, we apprehended this woman for theft," a guard explained. Damien Cross's piercing blue eyes settled on Alina, assessing her with an unreadable expression. "Leave us," he ordered. The guards hesitated but complied, exiting the room. Alina met his gaze, defiance replacing fear. "I didn't steal anything," she declared. Damien circled the table, his presence overwhelming. "Perhaps not. But appearances matter, Miss...?" "Reyes. Alina Reyes." "Miss Reyes, I have a proposition," he said, leaning against the table. She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not interested." "Hear me out. I need a wife—for appearances. A six-month arrangement. In return, your record stays clean, and I'll ensure your brother receives the medical care he needs." Alina's breath caught. "How do you know about Leo?" He smirked. "I make it my business to know everything." She stood abruptly. "This is insane." "Is it? Think about it. Six months, and your brother's future is secure." Alina hesitated, the weight of responsibility pressing down on her. "Fine. But this is strictly business." Damien extended his hand. "Agreed.” As their hands clasped, Alina couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just made a deal with the devil.