Chapter 2: An Offer She Should Refuse
1018 Words
Isabella didn’t remember the walk home.
One moment, she was standing in the polished marble lobby of the Royal Crest Hotel, staring at the contract in her shaking hands. The next moment, she was unlocking the door to her tiny apartment, and the envelope still clutched tightly against her chest.
The hallway light flickered the way it always did. Nothing unusual.
But Alexander’s words echoed in her mind.
“You might want to check your apartment when you get home.”
Her fingers trembled slightly as she pushed the door open.
The apartment was small—barely enough space for a bed, a table, and a narrow kitchen along the wall. Everything looked exactly the same as she had left it that morning.
The sink was still full of dishes.
Her sketchbook still sat on the table.
Isabella let out a slow breath.
“See?” she muttered to herself. “You’re being paranoid.”
She stepped inside and locked the door behind her.
But as she placed the envelope on the table, something caught her eye.
Her sketchbook was open.
She froze.
She was certain she had closed it before leaving that morning. Isabella always closed it. It was a habit she’d had since childhood. Her drawings were private, the one thing she allowed herself to keep hidden from the world.
Slowly, she walked toward the table.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
When she reached it, she leaned over and looked down.
Her last drawing stared back at her.
It was a sketch she had finished the night before—a quiet scene of the ocean at sunset. Drawing the ocean helped calm her when life felt overwhelming.
But that wasn’t what made her stomach drop.
Someone had written something on the page.
In dark ink, across the corner of her drawing, were five chilling words.
“You should take his offer.”
Isabella’s heart slammed against her ribs.
The door was still locked.
The windows were closed.
No one should have been inside.
She quickly checked the rest of the apartment—bathroom, closet, and kitchen.
Nothing.
No one.
But someone had clearly been there.
Her breathing grew shallow as Alexander’s calm voice echoed in her mind again.
“Circumstances make it inevitable.”
Her eyes drifted back to the contract on the table.
Half a million dollars.
Three months pretending to be his girlfriend.
Before today, the idea would have sounded insane.
Now… it felt like the only way to understand what was happening.
The next morning at the diner, Isabella could barely concentrate.
The Midnight Spoon smelled like coffee and fried eggs as usual, but everything felt different now.
“Earth to Isabella,” Carla said, snapping her fingers in front of her face.
Isabella blinked.
Carla, the diner’s senior waitress and unofficial manager, crossed her arms.
“You’ve been staring at that coffee pot for five minutes,” she said. “If it starts talking back, I’m quitting.”
Isabella forced a weak laugh.
“Sorry. I'm just tired.”
“Try exhausted,” Carla corrected. “You worked a double shift yesterday.”
Isabella nodded, but her thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
Back in her apartment.
Back to the message in her sketchbook.
Back to Alexander Knight.
She had never heard of him before yesterday, but a quick search on her phone during her break changed that quickly.
Alexander Knight.
CEO of Knight Holdings.
Billionaire.
One of the most powerful men in the city.
And apparently one of the most private.
There were dozens of photos of him online—standing beside politicians, walking red carpets, and attending luxury events.
But something about the photos unsettled her.
In every single one, he looked the same.
Calm.
Controlled.
Unreadable.
The diner bell rang as the front door opened.
Isabella automatically grabbed her notepad.
“Welcome to the Midnight Spoon,” she said, walking toward the entrance.
Then she stopped.
Standing in the doorway, wearing another perfectly tailored suit was Alexander Knight.
Every conversation in the diner seemed to fade into silence.
Alexander stepped inside as if the place belonged to him.
Rainwater dripped from his coat onto the floor.
His eyes found hers immediately.
And he smiled.
“Good morning, Isabella.”
Her stomach dropped.
“How did you—” she started.
“Find you?” he finished casually.
He glanced around the diner.
“Your workplace wasn’t difficult to locate.”
Carla leaned over the counter and whispered loudly to Isabella.
“Girl… do you know that man?”
Isabella swallowed.
“I… I think so.”
Alexander walked toward the counter and sat down like a regular customer.
Except nothing about him looked normal sitting in the worn diner booth.
“Coffee,” he said calmly.
Isabella didn’t move.
“Please,” he added.
She slowly poured him a cup and placed it in front of him.
The entire diner seemed to be watching them.
Alexander leaned back in his seat.
“Did you read the contract?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
She crossed her arms.
“I’m not signing it.”
Alexander raised an eyebrow.
“Are you sure?”
Her jaw tightened.
“I don’t fake relationships with strangers.”
His expression remained calm.
“But you allow strangers to enter your apartment?”
Her breath caught.
He took a slow sip of coffee.
“Nice drawing of the ocean, by the way.”
The room suddenly felt too small.
Too quiet.
“You were in my apartment,” she whispered.
Alexander set the coffee cup down carefully.
“No,” he said.
“But someone was.”
Her pulse raced.
“Who?”
Alexander leaned forward slightly.
“That,” he said quietly, “is exactly why you need my protection.”
Isabella stared at him, her mind spinning.
Protection?
From who?
Alexander slid the contract across the table again.
“Three months,” he said calmly. “Pretend to be my girlfriend. Attend events. Smile for cameras.”
“And in return?”
He met her eyes.
“You stay alive.”
- Writer
