The CEO's Accidental Bride

Chapter Two

Alexander's Pov

The conference room smelled like expensive leather and desperation. I'd changed into the spare suit I kept in my office, not as good as the ruined Brioni, but acceptable enough that the Blackwood representatives wouldn't notice. What they would notice was that I'd kept them waiting, which in their traditional British way, they'd consider unforgivable.

Marcus stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear, wrapping up the rescheduling call. He gave me a thumbs up. Four o'clock. We had six hours to salvage this disaster.

The door opened and she walked in.

She'd attempted to clean up, but there were still coffee splatters on her white blouse and her hair had escaped whatever professional style she'd tried for this morning. She looked terrified, clutching a worn messenger bag like it might protect her from what was coming.

Emma Chen, according to the background check Marcus had pulled up in the last three minutes. Twenty-six. Art history degree from a state school. Sterling Gallery employee for two years. Credit score in the basement. Medical debt collectors are actively pursuing her.

Perfect.

"Sit," I said, gesturing to the chair across from me.

She sat, perched on the edge like she might bolt any second. Her hands twisted in her lap, and I noticed her fingernails were bitten short. Nervous habit. Good. Nervous people made mistakes, and mistakes gave me leverage.

"Mr. Steele, I'm truly sorry about….."

"Do you have a lawyer, Miss Chen?"

She blinked. "What? No, I can't afford……"

"Then you should listen very carefully to what I'm about to say." I leaned forward, elbows on the table. "That suit you ruined cost twelve thousand dollars. The investor meeting you made me miss represents a potential merger worth eight hundred million. My legal team estimates we could pursue damages in the range of fifty to seventy-five thousand, given the circumstances."

All color drained from her face. "I don't have that kind of money."

"I know. You have seventeen thousand in medical debt, three thousand in credit card bills, and your rent is two months overdue." I watched her expression shift from fear to humiliation to anger. "I own this building now, Miss Chen. That includes Sterling Gallery. Your employer works for me, which means I have access to employee files."

"That's private information," she said, but her voice had no strength behind it.

"It's business information. There's a difference." I sat back, studying her. She had interesting features, sharp cheekbones, dark eyes that probably looked intelligent when they weren't filled with panic, full mouth currently pressed into a thin line. Not classically beautiful like Victoria, but striking in an unconventional way. "I could sue you. Garnish your wages for the next decade. Make sure every art gallery in the city knows you're a liability."

"Or?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

Smart girl. She'd caught the implication.

"Or you do something for me, and I make all of this go away. Plus, I'll pay you half a million dollars."

Her head snapped up. "What?"

"I need a fiancée. Temporarily. Six months, to be exact." I pulled out the folder Marcus had prepared, he was efficient like that, and slid it across the table. "My grandfather controls forty percent of Steele Industries stock. He's threatened to transfer his shares to my uncle Richard if I don't prove I can balance my personal life with business. The Blackwood merger requires family approval, and they're traditional. They want to see stability, commitment, and a man who values family."

She stared at the folder like it might explode.

"You want me to pretend to be your fiancée," she said slowly. "For six months."

"Yes."

"Why me? You could hire anyone. A model, an actress….."

"Because you owe me, which means you'll be motivated to follow the terms exactly. Because you're not connected to my social circle, so there's no risk of complications. And because you're desperate enough to say yes." I opened the folder, showing her the contract Marcus had drafted. "You'll move into my penthouse. Attend events, dinners, family gatherings. Convince my grandfather and the Blackwood family that we're genuinely in love. In six months, after the merger is finalized, we'll have a quiet breakup. You'll walk away with five hundred thousand dollars and no debt."

She was reading now, her finger tracing down the pages. "This says separate bedrooms. No physical intimacy required."

"I'm not interested in buying a mistress, Miss Chen. I'm interested in a business arrangement that benefits us both."

"What if I say no?"

"Then my lawyers file suit tomorrow morning, and you spend the next ten years working minimum wage jobs while they take every penny you earn." I kept my voice neutral, factual. "Or you take the deal, play your part well, and walk away wealthy enough to open that gallery you dream about."

Her eyes widened. "How did you….."

"Your social media. You posted about it three months ago. Opening a gallery for underprivileged artists who can't afford traditional representation." I closed the folder. "This is your chance to make that happen. All you have to do is attend some parties and pretend to like me for six months."

She looked at me then, really looked at me, and I saw the moment calculation replaced fear. She was weighing options, running scenarios, trying to find the trap.

There wasn't one. I needed this merger. Grandfather had made his ultimatum clear last week—settle down or watch Richard destroy everything our family built. Victoria's betrayal had made me a target for gossip and speculation about my ability to commit to anything beyond work. The Blackwood family had specifically mentioned concern about my personal instability.

Emma Chen was the solution to a problem I didn't have time to solve conventionally.

"Forty-eight hours," I said. "You have until Thursday at five PM to decide. If you agree, we'll announce the engagement this weekend at my grandfather's birthday party. If not, expect legal papers Monday morning."

She stood up, still clutching that ridiculous messenger bag. "This is insane."

"This is business. Everything's insane until it works." I stood as well, buttoning my jacket. "Marcus will give you his card. When you've made your decision, call him. Don't take too long, Miss Chen. Opportunities like this don't come twice."

She walked to the door, then paused with her hand on the handle. "Can I ask you something?"

"Quickly."

"Why don't you just find someone real? Someone you actually want to marry?"

The question caught me off guard. For a second, I saw Victoria's face the day I found her in bed with James. The way she'd laughed when I asked if she'd ever loved me. *Love doesn't pay for penthouses, Alex.*

"Because real life is a liability I can't afford," I said. "Real people have expectations, emotions, agendas that don't align with business objectives. A contract is clean. It has terms, conditions, and an expiration date."

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."

"That's reality. You have forty-eight hours."

She left without another word, and I watched through the glass as she walked past Marcus, past the reception desk, into the elevator bay. She looked small in that space, drowning in a world she didn't belong to.

Marcus entered, raising an eyebrow. "Think she'll take it?"

"She doesn't have a choice." I checked my watch. Three hours until the rescheduled Blackwood meeting. "Pull everything we have on her. Friends, family, habits. If she agrees, I need to know who I'm dealing with."

"Already done. Her roommate, Grace Liu, owns a coffee shop in Brooklyn. No boyfriend currently. Mother died six months ago from cancer, that's where the medical debt came from. Father's unknown, not listed on birth certificate." Marcus hesitated. "Alex, are you sure about this? Using someone's desperation….."

"I'm giving her a way out of poverty. That's more than most people get." I grabbed my briefcase. "This is business, Marcus. Don't make it complicated."

But as I headed to my office to prepare for the Blackwood meeting, I couldn't shake the image of Emma Chen's eyes when she'd called my life sad.

She had no idea what sad really meant.

My phone buzzed. Grandfather's name flashed on the screen.

"Lunch tomorrow. Bring good news or I'm calling Richard."

I had forty-eight hours to turn a coffee-stained art gallery assistant into my convincing fiancée.