Chapter 1 – The Interview
841 Words
The alarm buzzed far too early for someone who had barely slept.
Emma Carter groaned and rolled over, smacking her hand against the cracked screen of her phone. 5:03 a.m. Her heart was already racing — not because she had a good feeling about the day, but because she had no idea what to expect.
She sat up slowly on the old mattress, the springs squeaking beneath her. The small bedroom she shared with her father was still dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside the window. She could hear him snoring faintly in the next room.
Emma's eyes drifted to the eviction notice still taped to the wall — not by choice, but because removing it didn’t change anything.
She sighed, then stood and tiptoed to the tiny bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Her reflection looked pale and anxious. Her soft brown curls were tied in a messy bun, and her eyes were puffy from crying the night before.
You can do this, she told herself. It’s just an interview…
But it wasn’t just an interview. She hadn’t even applied for it. The email had come out of nowhere — cold, formal, and unsettling. All it said was that she was invited to a “private interview” at Donovan Enterprises, one of the most powerful companies in the city.
No job role. No contact name. No explanation.
Still, it was better than doing nothing. Her dad needed help. Fast.
By 7:30 a.m., Emma had squeezed herself into the only blazer she owned — navy blue, slightly faded. Her pants didn’t match, but at least she looked neat. She tied her hair back, applied a little lip balm, and borrowed Tasha’s old heels that clicked with every nervous step.
When she arrived at the towering glass building, her stomach flipped.
Everything about Donovan Enterprises screamed wealth and power. She felt completely out of place among the sleek professionals striding across the polished marble floors.
“Miss Emma Carter?” a woman’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
Emma turned to find a tall assistant with sharp features and a tighter bun than should be legal.
“Y-Yes?”
“Follow me. Mr. Donovan is waiting.”
Emma’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected to meet him. Not today. Not ever.
They rode the elevator in silence. She tried not to let her nervousness show, but her palms were sweaty.
When the doors slid open to the top floor, it was like walking into a different world. The office was spacious, sleek, and silent. The windows stretched from floor to ceiling, revealing the entire city below. At the center of it all, sitting behind a wide, spotless desk, was Alex Donovan.
He didn’t look up when she entered.
He didn’t even acknowledge her.
The assistant left with a click of the door.
Emma stood frozen, clutching her bag.
He finally glanced at her — once.
Cold eyes. Sharp suit. Expression unreadable. There was no warmth, no welcome. Only silence.
“You’re late,” he said flatly, checking his watch, though it wasn’t even 9:00 yet.
Emma blinked. “I… I got here early. They said—”
“Sit.”
It wasn’t a request. She sat.
For a moment, he studied her the way someone might look at a painting they weren’t sure belonged in their collection.
“You’re nervous,” he said, still staring.
Was that a question? A judgment? A statement?
She straightened her shoulders. “I didn’t expect to meet the CEO.”
Alex’s lips barely moved. “Good. I don’t like people who come prepared to lie.”
The silence thickened.
Emma cleared her throat. “What exactly is this position you’re hiring for? The email wasn’t very… clear.”
He stood and walked to the window, his back to her. “It’s not a position. It’s a proposition.”
Emma frowned.
“A contract,” he continued, voice steady. “Marriage. One year. In exchange, I pay off your father’s medical debts, provide you with a home, and offer a generous monthly allowance. In return, you play the role of my wife in public, attend events, smile when necessary — and never ask questions.”
She stared at him in disbelief.
“You can’t be serious.”
He turned slowly, his face unreadable. “I don’t have time for games, Miss Carter. You’re here because someone I trust said you wouldn’t disappoint.”
Emma’s voice cracked. “And if I say no?”
His gaze didn’t change. “Then you leave. And I assume the debt collectors find your father before the month ends.”
A chill ran down her spine. He hadn’t raised his voice. He hadn’t threatened her. But somehow, he had all the power in the room.
And he knew it.
This man didn’t care about feelings. He didn’t care about fairness.
He wanted a wife who looked good on paper and disappeared in silence when the time was up.
And somehow... she was exactly what he needed.
- Writer
