A LOVE TOO REAL TO FAKE

Chapter 1: The rain had just stopped, but Eden Blake’s sneakers were already soaked. She weaved between yellow cabs on Lexington Avenue, gripping a soggy brown paper bag like it held gold instead of spicy miso ramen and under-tipped hope. It was her twelfth delivery of the day. Her third this hour. Her stomach rumbled — leftover toast from last night didn’t count as fuel. Her phone buzzed again: another declined appeal from the hospital’s billing department. She didn’t bother checking. The delivery address blinked on her cracked screen: The Arcadia Grand Hotel — 110th floor. Eden blinked. “Holy s**t. Who even eats ramen on the 110th floor?” The doorman raised an eyebrow at her muttering. “Delivery entrance is around the back, sweetheart.” She gave him a tight, fake smile. She was used to being invisible. The service elevator creaked with age as it climbed. Her reflection in the scratched metal walls stared back: messy bun falling apart, hoodie two sizes too big, paint-stained leggings, and sneakers with peeling soles. A ghost of the art student she used to be. Eden Blake. Artist. Hustler. Broke. Invisible. When the elevator finally opened, she stepped out expecting a hallway. Instead, she landed in a sea of chandeliers and champagne. She froze. “This can’t be right…” This wasn’t a hotel floor. This was a ballroom — sprawling, gold-trimmed, and echoing with laughter. Elegant guests glided past in designer gowns and tuxedos, their perfume richer than her rent. A quartet played soft jazz in the corner. No one even saw her. Until they did. “Hey! Get the hell out of here!” someone snapped. Eden panicked, spinning to find the nearest exit. But before she could move, a voice cut through the noise — calm, commanding, and rich with lazy arrogance. “Let her stay.” Heads turned. The tension shifted. And that’s when she saw him. Cassian Wolfe. He stood like he owned the room — or maybe the world. Tall. Tailored suit clinging to a frame carved by privilege and power. Jet-black hair slicked back. A dangerous mouth that didn’t smile, only curved. And eyes—dark, unreadable, intense. He wasn’t a man. He was a warning in a three-piece suit. And he was looking straight at her. “You’re in the wrong place,” he said, walking toward her. Eden’s throat went dry. She raised the bag. “I—I have ramen. For a Mr. Levingston? I think I hit the wrong floor.” He stopped in front of her, too close, too still. “You just saved my night.” “With noodles?” “With timing.” Before she could respond, he asked, “How much do you make in a night?” “What?” she said “Your rate. Name it.” She frowned. “That’s… none of your business.” “I’ll give you five thousand dollars for one hour of your time.” Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?” “One hour. Pretend to be my date. That’s all.” She stared at him. “Is this a joke? Is there a camera?” “I don’t waste money unless it matters,” he said. “And right now, it does.” “Why me?”she asked He looked her over, precise and unreadable. “Because no one would expect you. And I need someone unpredictable.” She should’ve walked away. But her mother’s medical bills flashed through her mind. Her landlord’s threats. The red balance on her bank app. “Cash?” she asked. Cassian pulled a clip of bills from his pocket and handed it to her. Her heart pounded as he placed a steady hand on her waist and led her through the ballroom. His cologne wrapped around her like smoke and sin. Whispers followed. Upstairs, in a private suite with a million-dollar skyline view, Eden finally exhaled. “What now?” Cassian turned to her, eyes unreadable. “Now, you laugh at my terrible jokes and act like you’ve been in love with me for years.” “You have an ex watching?” “One in particular. She won’t believe this — and that’s why I want her to.” “So I’m your distraction?” “No. You’re my illusion.” “And if I screw it up?” He leaned in, voice a breath against her ear. “Then improvise. Convince me.” The door burst open. A woman stormed in — tall, blonde, lethal in a crimson gown. Verena Sterling. Tabloid queen. Heiress. Cassian’s former fiancée. “Cass,” she purred, dripping poison. “Who’s this?” Cassian didn’t blink. “Eden Blake. My fiancée.” Eden nearly choked. Verena’s smile was knives. “Funny. I never saw an announcement.” Eden smiled sweetly. “He proposed last week. Rooftop. Rose petals. Fireworks.” Cassian added smoothly, “She said yes before I finished the question.” Verena’s eyes narrowed. “Well. Congratulations. I hope she knows what she’s getting into.” She left without another word, but her scent lingered like a warning. Eden turned to Cassian, breathless. “Are you insane?” “She’ll dig now. Try to ruin you. We let her.” “Why?” “Because she destroyed someone else. And it’s time she learned how that feels.” He pulled open a drawer and dropped a velvet pouch into Eden’s hand. Inside sat a diamond ring the size of a marble. “Put it on.” “You said one hour.” “I changed my mind. One month.” Eden stared at him. “You can’t just buy someone’s life.” He stepped closer. “No. But I can rent it. And you need me more than you’ll admit.” “This is insane.” “This is a deal. And I always honor mine.” “What do you get out of this?” He smiled faintly. “Closure.” As Eden walked out of the hotel that night, five thousand dollars heavier, one thought echoed in her mind: She should run. But a month of pretending could wipe her debts clean. Cassian Wolfe wasn’t offering a job. He was offering a gilded cage. And Eden had just agreed to lock herself inside.