Sixty Days In The Billionaire's Arms

Chapter 2

Nate's Pov

She said yes.

I watched the word leave her lips like she was signing her own prison sentence instead of saving her father’s life. Serena Voss. After ten years, here she was, older, exhausted, still the same girl who dragged me out of freezing water and vanished.

She had no idea.

“You’re really going to wipe the entire debt?” she asked again, leaning forward in the chair like she expected me to laugh and say it was a joke.

“Every cent,” I replied. “Medical bills, interest, late fees, everything your family owes Calloway Financial disappears the moment you sign.”

She scanned the pages, biting her lip. “And there are no tricks? No hidden clauses that suddenly make me owe you even more later? I’ve heard horror stories about these kinds of contracts.”

“No tricks,” I assured her. “I had my legal team write it in plain language. Read it carefully. You’ll see it’s straightforward. Debt forgiveness in exchange for sixty days of your time. Everything is spelled out.”

Serena flipped another page, her eyes moving quickly. “It really says ‘all outstanding balances zeroed.’ I just… I can’t believe this. People don’t just erase hundreds of thousands of dollars for a fake relationship. What’s in it for you besides the will thing? Be honest.”

“Hundreds of thousands that are now my problem to forget,” I said calmly. “Sign, and it’s done. I’ll have the confirmation sent to your father’s doctors this afternoon so his treatments continue without interruption. No gaps, no questions asked.”

Her head snapped up. “You’d do that today? Even before I move in or anything? You’d really call them right after I sign?”

“Yes. I don’t play games with people’s health,” I said. “Your father’s next prescription and therapy sessions will be covered immediately. I’ll make the call myself if it puts your mind at ease.” I tapped the bottom of the contract. “Initial here and here. Full signature on the last page.”

She hesitated, pen hovering. “Sixty days. No backing out. And I have to move into your place tomorrow?”

“Tonight would be better,” I said. “People talk. The sooner it looks real, the better. The press already sniffs around my building. If they see you arriving with bags, it sells the story faster. We can’t afford any leaks this early.”

Her eyes widened. “Tonight? I can’t just—I have to tell my dad something. He thinks I’m at a normal meeting. He’s probably waiting for me to come home and tell him how it went. What am I supposed to say to him? He’s going to worry if I suddenly don’t come back tonight.”

“Tell him you got a better job opportunity. Live-in position. Good pay,” I suggested. “Say it’s an executive assistant role that came up suddenly. Or tell him the truth. That you’re saving his life by pretending to love me for two months.”

She flinched. “He can’t know. It would kill him. He already feels guilty enough about the bills. If he finds out I’m selling myself like this, he’d rather lose the house than let me do it. He’s proud like that.”

“Then we lie,” I said, standing up and walking around the desk, closer to her. She smelled like cheap coffee and vanilla shampoo. Real. “Starting now. We’ll craft a simple story. We met at a charity event six months ago, kept it quiet because of your father’s condition. It’ll hold up under questions. We can rehearse the details on the way to the penthouse.”

Serena looked up at me, searching my face. “Why do you need a fake fiancée? You’re… you. Rich. Successful. Women probably line up for you. I’ve seen the tabloids. Why not pick one of them instead of someone like me who’s clearly desperate?”

I almost laughed. If only she knew how little those women meant. “My mother’s will has a clause. I need to appear settled. Happily engaged. Otherwise a large portion of the company goes to distant relatives who would run it into the ground. They’re already circling, waiting for any sign I’m still the same bachelor they think I am. You’re different. You’re real. That’s what I need right now.”

She stood too, and for a second we were close enough that I could see the faint freckles across her nose. The same ones I remembered.

“Fine,” she said. “But I have rules too. No lying to my father about anything except this arrangement. I won’t make up fake stories about how we fell in love in front of him. And when it’s over, we never speak again. You delete my number, I delete yours. Clean break. Promise me that.”

My chest tightened. “Deal. I’ll have my assistant add your rules to the contract if you want them in writing. We can make them official.”

“No need,” she muttered. “I just needed to say them out loud. This already feels like I’m losing control of my life. One minute I’m begging for an extension, the next I’m engaged to a stranger. How did this even happen?”

She picked up the pen again, fingers trembling. “What if I can’t act? What if someone asks me something personal and I freeze? I’m not exactly Hollywood material here. I’ve never even been to a fancy event before. What if I embarrass you in front of important people?”

“You’ll learn fast,” I reassured her. “We’ll practice the story tonight. How we met, favorite colors, all the small details couples know. I’ll make it easy for you. And if you slip, I’ll cover for you. We’re a team in this, Serena. At least for the next sixty days.”

Serena signed the papers with a shaky hand, then pushed them back toward me. “There. It’s done. I hope I don’t regret this. I really hope I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life right now.”

When she finished, she looked at me with those tired green eyes and asked, “What happens now?”

I picked up my phone and called my assistant. “Clear my afternoon. And prepare the penthouse. Miss Voss is moving in tonight. Send a car to her address later for her things, whatever she needs. And tell the stylist to be ready with options within the hour.”

Serena’s face went pale. “Wait..tonight? I haven’t even packed, I don’t have nice clothes or anything suitable for your world. My stuff is all old and worn out. And I need to stop by the café to tell them I won’t be coming in for a while. My boss is going to kill me if I just disappear.”

“Take the week off from both jobs,” I said. “I’ll compensate you for lost wages. As for clothes, my stylist will bring options to the penthouse. You won’t need to worry about that. We’ll handle everything step by step.”

The door opened behind her. My head of security stepped in.

“Mr. Calloway, we have a problem downstairs. Reporters got wind that you’re meeting with someone important. They’re waiting.”

Serena turned, startled. I placed a hand lightly on her lower back, practicing for what was coming.

“Smile, sweetheart,” I murmured close to her ear. “Time to start pretending.”

She whispered back, voice shaking, “I think I’m going to be sick.”