The Billionaire's Groom

Moving In

Ethan stood in the middle of his small Brooklyn apartment at 8:45 AM, surrounded by the physical summary of his life: two weathered suitcases, three cardboard boxes, and enough anxiety to power the entire city grid. Twenty-seven years of existence condensed into so little seemed almost tragic. He picked up a framed photo of himself and Mia at her college graduation, taken just months before her diagnosis, and carefully wrapped it in one of his t-shirts before placing it in the last box.

The sound of a car pulling up outside drew him to the window. A sleek black Mercedes town car looked comically out of place among the beat-up Toyotas and delivery vans that usually lined his street. Several of his neighbors were already peering out their windows, probably wondering if someone had gotten lost on their way to Manhattan.

His phone buzzed with a text from his sister: "Don't forget to take pictures of your new billionaire palace! And remember, this isn't just about the money. Maybe the universe is finally giving you something back. ❤️"

Ethan smiled despite his nerves. Mia had always been the optimistic one, even now, lying in a hospital bed fighting for her life. He typed back a quick "Love you" before grabbing his keys.

"Mr. Chen." The driver, a distinguished-looking man in his fifties, stepped out of the car and introduced himself as James. He moved with the practiced efficiency of someone who'd been managing billionaires' lives for decades. "Mr. Sterling apologizes that he couldn't meet you himself. He's in an emergency board meeting this morning."

Of course he was. Because normal people moved in with their fake fiancés, but billionaires had empires to run.

James insisted on carrying the heavier boxes himself, treating Ethan's modest belongings with the same care he probably showed to priceless artifacts. As they loaded the car, Mrs. Rodriguez from apartment 4B "happened" to be checking her mail.

"Moving out, Ethan?" she asked, not even trying to hide her curiosity about the luxury vehicle.

"Yes, Mrs. R. Time for a change." He gave her a quick hug, knowing she'd been like a surrogate grandmother since he'd moved in five years ago. "I'll come back to visit."

"You better. And bring this mysterious man of yours that Mia mentioned when she was collecting your mail last week."

Ethan nearly choked. Trust his sister to have already started spreading the news. At least she'd had the sense not to mention the arrangement's true nature.

The ride to Sterling Tower felt like traveling between worlds. He watched his familiar Brooklyn neighborhood fade away, replaced by the gleaming skyscrapers of Manhattan. Everything he'd worked for, his small but growing wedding planning business, his modest but independent life – all of it was about to change. For better or worse remained to be seen.

James pulled into a private underground garage that looked more like a luxury car showroom. Rows of vehicles that probably cost more than Ethan's entire business lined the spaces: Bentleys, Aston Martins, even what looked like a limited edition Ferrari.

"Mr. Sterling's personal collection," James explained, noticing Ethan's wide-eyed stare. "You'll have access to any of them, of course. Do you drive?"

"I have a license," Ethan managed, trying not to think about what the insurance on these cars must cost.

They took a private elevator – different from the one he'd used yesterday – and James pressed his palm to a biometric scanner. "Mr. Sterling had your biometrics added to the system this morning. You'll have full access to all private areas of the building."

The elevator opened directly into the penthouse, and Ethan's luggage was quickly arranged in what James called "the master suite." The room was bigger than his entire apartment, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view that made his knees weak. A massive bed dominated one wall, draped in what looked like ridiculously expensive sheets.

"This is where you'll be sleeping," James said matter-of-factly, as if he hadn't just casually detonated a bomb in Ethan's brain. Because of course, married couples shared a bed. Even fake married couples who were virtual strangers and one of whom happened to be the most attractive man Ethan had ever seen in real life.

"Mr. Sterling asked that I give you a full tour," James continued, either not noticing or politely ignoring Ethan's minor existential crisis. "The penthouse has four bedrooms, five bathrooms, a home office, library, gym, and entertainment room. The kitchen is fully stocked, and there's a private chef on call if you prefer. Your closet has been prepared as well."

"My closet?" Ethan followed James through a door that opened into what could only be described as a personal department store. One side was clearly Alexander's, full of impeccable suits and casual wear that probably cost more than Ethan's yearly rent. The other side...

"Mr. Sterling had his personal shopper select a wardrobe appropriate for your new position. Everything should be in your size."

Ethan ran his hand over a Tom Ford suit jacket. The price tag was still attached, and the number made him snatch his hand back as if burned. "This is too much."

"Mr. Sterling insists that his husband be appropriately dressed for all occasions." James's expression remained professionally neutral, but Ethan swore he saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Speaking of which, the tailor will be here at two for your wedding suit fitting."

"Today?" Ethan's voice cracked embarrassingly.

"Indeed. Mr. Sterling has arranged for the ceremony to take place this Saturday at the Sterling family estate in the Hamptons. Small, private ceremony. Only essential guests." James checked his watch. "Mr. Sterling should be home around seven. He's arranged for dinner to be served on the terrace. In the meantime, feel free to explore. The kitchen has been stocked according to the preferences you listed in your paperwork."

Ethan didn't remember listing any preferences, but then again, he'd signed so many documents in the past twenty-four hours, he might have agreed to sell his soul without noticing.

After James departed, Ethan wandered through the penthouse in a daze, trailing his fingers along expensive surfaces, afraid to sit on furniture that probably cost more than his business. Everything was tastefully decorated in shades of grey, blue, and cream, managing to feel both luxurious and somehow lonely.

In the kitchen, he found a coffee maker that looked like it belonged in a NASA laboratory. After five minutes of staring at it in despair, he discovered a handwritten note:

'Press the blue button for regular coffee. The rest is unnecessarily complicated. -A'

The note made Alexander seem suddenly more human, and Ethan smiled despite himself. He made a cup of coffee (the blue button worked perfectly) and carried it out to the terrace. The view of Manhattan was breathtaking from up here, the city spread out like a glittering jewel box.

His phone buzzed with a text from Alexander:

'I trust you're settling in. The grey suit in your closet will be appropriate for dinner. We have details to discuss. Make yourself at home. -A'

Ethan took a long sip of his coffee, wondering if it was too early for something stronger. Four days until the wedding. Four days until he became Mr. Sterling—at least on paper. Four days until he committed to living the biggest lie of his life.

He walked back inside, his footsteps echoing in the vast space. Opening one of his boxes, he pulled out the photo of himself and Mia, placing it on a side table. The simple frame looked out of place among the expensive décor, but he needed something real, something his, in this beautiful but artificial world he'd agreed to enter.

"Make yourself at home," he muttered, repeating Alexander's text. But how do you make yourself at home in a fantasy?

He had a feeling he was about to find out.