Falling for Her Fake Fiancé

Chapter 1: The Proposal The rain hit the tin roof in steady beats, like a cruel countdown to the end of everything. Leila stood at the window of her mother’s old flower shop, arms wrapped tightly around herself as thunder rumbled in the distance. Outside, the city buzzed — cars honking, people rushing, life moving on — but inside, her world was crumbling. “Three days,” the bank officer had said coldly that morning. “You have three days to pay the loan, or the shop goes.” Three days to come up with five million naira. She let out a shaky breath and turned away from the window. Her mother had built this shop with her bare hands, and now that she was gone, it was all Leila had left of her. She couldn’t let it go. Not like this. But what could she possibly do? “Still thinking of selling the place?” Zara asked gently, stepping in from the back. Her best friend — and part-time troublemaker — had been by her side since they were kids. She held out a steaming mug of tea. Leila shook her head. “I can’t. It’s all I have.” Zara bit her lip. “Then you need a miracle.” As if summoned by the word, the shop door chimed open. A tall figure stepped in, wearing a tailored black suit that screamed money. His dark eyes swept over the flower arrangements before landing on Leila with cool interest. Leila blinked. No way. It was Damian Cole. Billionaire tech mogul, heir to the Cole dynasty — and her worst memory from university. “Leila Hassan,” he said smoothly, removing his sunglasses. “I need your help.” She crossed her arms. “Unless you’re here to buy five million naira worth of roses, I doubt it.” A corner of his mouth lifted — not quite a smile, more like a challenge. “I need a fiancée,” he said. Silence. Zara nearly choked on her tea. “Excuse me?” Damian took a step closer, his voice low, businesslike. “My father is forcing me into an engagement I don’t want. But if I show up with someone else — someone believable — I can buy time. You need money. I need freedom. We can help each other.” Leila stared at him. Had he lost his mind? “You think I’ll pretend to be your fiancée?” she asked. “Just like that?” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a checkbook. Without blinking, he scribbled a number and tore the page.