Sixty Days In The Billionaire's Arms

Serena’s Pov “You’re not Mr. Hargrove.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. The man behind the massive desk wasn’t the balding loan officer I’d spoken to twice before. This guy was younger, sharper, in a black suit that probably cost more than my rent for a year. His eyes, dark, unreadable, locked onto mine the second I stepped through the door like he’d been waiting for me. “Sit down, Serena.” His voice was low, calm, the kind that didn’t need to raise itself to be obeyed. I stayed standing, clutching the strap of my bag like a lifeline. “I had a meeting with Mr. Hargrove about my loan. If this is some kind of mistake….” “It’s not.” He leaned back slightly, still watching me. “I’m Nate Calloway. This is my company.” Calloway. As in Calloway Financial. My stomach dropped. I’d seen his name on the documents, but I never imagined the actual man. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine, not behind a desk deciding whether my family sank or swam. I forced my legs to move and sat. “I… I just need sixty more days. My father’s medical bills…” “I’ve read the file,” he cut in. Not unkindly, but firmly. “Every payment you’ve missed. Every late notice. The collections threat.” Heat rushed to my face. I hated that he knew. Hated that I was here begging. “I’ve been making payments when I can. Two jobs. I’m not trying to run from it. I work at the café until three, then the bookstore until closing. I barely sleep, but I’m trying. Please, Mr. Calloway, I just need a little more time.” He tilted his head slightly. “You’ve said that before. Three times, actually. Each time the extension was granted, and each time the payments still fell short. Why should this time be different, Serena?” I gripped the edge of the desk. “Because my dad is getting better. Slowly. The doctor said another month or two and he might be able to handle light work again. I’ll pick up extra shifts. I’ll sell my car if I have to. Just don’t send it to collections. It would destroy him.” Nate watched me for a long moment. “You’re protecting him.” “Of course I am. He’s all I have left.” My voice cracked a little. I cleared my throat. “Look, I know how this looks. Single woman, drowning in debt, begging for mercy. But I’m not irresponsible. The bills came out of nowhere after his collapse. No one plans for something like that.” He tapped a pen on the desk once, twice. “I understand more than you think. Life has a way of knocking people down when they least expect it.” For a second, something almost human crossed his face. Then it was gone. “So… Can you give me sixty days?” I asked, hope flickering even though I knew it was stupid. “I can do better than that,” he said. “I have a proposition for you.” I blinked. “A… what?” “Sixty days. That’s what you need, right?” He folded his hands on the desk. “You pretend to be my fiancée for sixty days. Public appearances, events, enough to convince the people who matter. The day you say yes, every cent your family owes this company disappears. Completely.” The silence that followed felt like it had weight. I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. There wasn’t one. “You’re serious,” I whispered. “Dead serious.” My heart hammered so hard I could hear it in my ears. “Why me? You don’t even know me. There must be a hundred women who would jump at the chance to be on your arm for two months. Why pick the girl who’s about to lose everything?” Nate leaned forward. “Let’s just say you caught my attention. The way you fight for your father… not many people have that kind of loyalty these days. And I need someone who can make this look believable. Someone real.” “Real?” I let out a nervous laugh. “I’m wearing second-hand shoes and haven’t had a proper meal in days. Nothing about me screams ‘future Mrs. Calloway.’ What if I mess up? What if people ask questions I can’t answer?” “Then we prepare,” he replied smoothly. “You’ll have rules. I’ll have rules. We’ll go over the story together, how we met, when we fell in love, all of it. But the debt vanishes the moment you agree. No more late notices. No more calls from collectors. Your father gets his medicine and his peace of mind.” I rubbed my temples. “This sounds insane. You’re basically buying a girlfriend for sixty days. Don’t you have a real one somewhere? Or is that the problem, you don’t?” His expression didn’t change. “No real one. No time for that. This arrangement solves problems for both of us.” I thought of Dad in his chair at home, pretending he didn’t need the next round of meds. The stack of envelopes I hid from him. The way my hands shook every time I checked my bank balance. I swallowed hard. “If I say yes… what exactly would I have to do?” “Smile for cameras. Let people believe we’re in love. Live in my house so it looks real.” His gaze didn’t waver. “Nothing physical unless you want it. This is a contract, Serena. Not a cage.” My mouth went dry. “And at the end of sixty days?” “You walk away debt-free. We end the engagement quietly. Simple.” Nothing about this felt simple. I looked down at my chipped nails, at the cheap watch on my wrist that used to be my mom’s. Then I looked back at him, this stranger offering to save my world in exchange for sixty days of lies. My voice came out smaller than I wanted. “I need to think about it.” “You have five minutes,” he said quietly. “After that, the offer leaves the room with me.” I stared at him, pulse racing. “You can’t be serious about timing me like some game show.” He didn’t smile. “I’m always serious.”