The Fiance He Never Knew

Lyra’s point of view The air in the Vance Global Tower was thick. It smelled like too much money and too many secrets. It was heavy, and it pressed against me like a fist. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of rich people who didn't even notice I was there. I was wearing a borrowed dress. It was dark blue, and it fit well, but it felt like a costume. I was Lyra Hayes, architect. I was not a woman who belonged at a charity gala for billionaires. I was here because my company, my life, was about to fall apart. My only thought was Leo. I kept repeating his name in my head, a silent, desperate prayer. My three-year-old son. He was my whole world, and he was the secret I worked every day to keep safe. My small architecture firm, Hayes Designs, was two weeks from being finished. Every bank statement was a punch to the gut. The only thing that could save us was one massive contract: the Sterling Bank renovation. That’s why I was here, searching for the man who held the key: Mr. Harrison Sterling. I touched the little silver locket around my neck. No one could know what was inside—a tiny, crumpled drawing Leo had made. It was my anchor. It reminded me that the panic I felt was worth it. I had to succeed. I couldn't let my son down. I saw Sterling across the room. He was surrounded by a wall of people trying to look important. I took a deep breath, fixed my professional smile, and started to walk. I told myself: Get the contract. Save the company. Protect Leo. I was only a few steps away from my goal when the world stopped. I didn't need to turn around. I felt him before I saw him. It was a cold snap, like a sudden drop in temperature, followed by a rush of pure, white-hot fury. Cassian Vance. I froze completely. The expensive marble floor felt miles away. I hadn't seen him in three years, not since the morning he wrote me a check and called me his mistake. I had planned to never see him again. It was the only way I could keep my secret safe. He walked out of a small group of people. He was wearing black, and he looked taller, harder, and impossibly handsome. Everything about him screamed power. But it was his face—that cold, sharp, unmoving face—that made my stomach turn over. His grey eyes scanned the room with bored, total control. Then they hit me. And they stopped. There was a tiny, horrible pause. I saw the recognition flash in his eyes, but it wasn't a good memory. It was just the memory of a brief error. "Lyra Hayes," he said. His voice was a low, rough sound that cut through the music. Hearing my name from him was like being hit. I forced myself to be professional. "Mr. Vance. A pleasure." It was a lie, and it tasted like ash in my mouth. He took a step closer. His eyes looked me up and down, making me feel cheap in my borrowed dress. "A pleasure? I remember the last time, Ms. Hayes. I remember correcting your mistakes." Three years ago, I was an intern who made the mistake of thinking one beautiful, reckless night meant something real. He quickly corrected that misunderstanding by paying me to disappear. And two months later, I learned the biggest mistake was mine: I was pregnant. "I fix my own mistakes now, Mr. Vance," I shot back. The heat of my old humiliation gave me the strength to look him right in the eye. "And my competence is not your concern." He gave a small, cruel smile. “So you’re still having trouble with clients, then.” He looked past my shoulder, clearly done with me. The world's most powerful man was dismissing me like a faulty door hinge. I had to move. Mr. Sterling was watching our tense exchange. My chance was disappearing. "I have a very important meeting, Mr. Vance. Please excuse me." I tried to walk past him, but he stood like a stone wall. "Wait." The single word stopped me cold. It wasn't a request; it was an order. He dropped his voice, and a flicker of something I hadn't seen before—tension, frustration—crossed his face. "You look desperate, Lyra. It's in your eyes. Financial trouble?" I wanted to slap him. "That is not your business." "It is, if it's about to become my business." He glanced quickly over his shoulder again. I followed his gaze to the door. His grandfather, Elijah Vance, was watching Cassian with an angry, demanding look. Cassian took my elbow. His grip was firm and cold. He pulled me away from the crowd, past a tall curtain, and into a small, quiet, dark-wood library. The door shut with a heavy click. "Sit down," he commanded. I stayed standing, shaking with anger. "I am not sitting. I'm leaving. Tell me what game you are playing, Cassian. I have to talk to Sterling." He ignored me. He walked to a dark cabinet and poured a drink. He drank it fast. He looked like he needed it. This was not the cool, calm Cassian I remembered. "My grandfather is insane," he ground out. "He says the final part of the Vance fortune—the one that controls the huge European merger—must go to a family man." I stared at him, confused. "What does that have to do with me?" "I have one month to produce a fiancée. Someone smart. Someone who can handle society events. Someone who, most importantly, will not actually marry me when this is done." He looked utterly defeated for one second, then he put his mask back on. "It's a ridiculous demand, but I cannot lose that merger." He walked to the desk. He didn't even have to look for it. A printed sheet of paper sat waiting for me. I saw the headline: Hayes Designs: High Risk. 14 Days to Bankruptcy. My heart stopped. "You had my firm watched?" My voice was just a shaky whisper. "I prepare," he said, his voice flat. "Your company is over-leveraged and about to fail. The Sterling contract is your only way out. And Sterling is looking for an architect with powerful connections." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a clean, sealed envelope. It had the look of a legal document, heavy with consequence. "I am the main investor in the Sterling deal. I can give you that contract by tomorrow morning. It will save your business. It will save… whatever secret crisis you are running from." His words made the fear of Leo jump inside me. Did he know? No. He couldn't. "What is the cost, Cassian?" I asked. I knew it would be a piece of my soul. He rested his hands on the desk and leaned toward me. His eyes were cold, hard grey stone. "The price is your signature. You will become my fake fiancée. You will wear my ring and move into my house immediately. You will play the part perfectly for six months, until the merger is complete and the inheritance is mine." He delivered the twist like a final blow. He was offering salvation in the form of a beautiful, expensive lie. "You get the multi-million-dollar contract. You get a huge payment to ensure your stability. I get control of my company. It's a business deal, Lyra. A mutually beneficial transaction." He gave a sharp, empty smile. "A marriage of convenience." My head was spinning. Live with him? Pretend to love him? The man who was the father of my secret son? It was a disaster. But if I refused, Leo's future was gone. Cassian watched me, waiting. He picked up a heavy, expensive pen and placed it right next to the contract. “Sign it,” he demanded, the word low and firm. “Is your pride worth more than your survival, Lyra? Choose.” I looked at the contract. My son's safety was written right there in the small print. I hated Cassian Vance. But right now, I need him. My hand reached out, shaking slightly, toward the pen. I knew that signing this meant stepping back into his world. It meant putting my son's secret in the most dangerous place possible: the hands of his father.