Chapter 1: The Interview That Wasn’t
I never believed in miracles, but that morning, I hoped for one.
Clutching a creased folder containing my resume, I stood in the lobby of Blackwood Enterprises, the glass-and-steel skyscraper that pierced the clouds like it owned them.
The woman at the front desk eyed me without much interest. “You’re here for the 9:30 slot?”
I nodded and forced a smile, my palms clammy against the polished surface of the counter. “Amelia Collins. Assistant interview.”
“Thirty-fourth floor,” she said. “Good luck.”
I thanked her and made my way toward the elevators, my reflection fractured in the mirrored doors. I looked presentable—at least I hoped I did. My black skirt was thrifted, my blouse slightly too snug across my chest, but ironed and clean. My curls were pulled into a neat bun, and I'd practiced answers to at least twenty common interview questions.
I had everything riding on this.
Because back home, rent was two weeks late. My younger brother, Ethan, had just been discharged from the hospital and needed medications we couldn’t afford. And if I didn’t land something—anything—this week, we were finished.
I took a shaky breath as the elevator ascended. I needed this. Not the perfect job. Just a job.
The doors slid open to reveal a sleek office hallway, all silent corridors and floor-to-ceiling windows that made me feel like an imposter in a dream.
I wasn’t ready for what happened next.
The assistant at the reception looked up, her phone to her ear. “Yes, sir... yes. She’s here now.”
She glanced at me, her expression tight. “Mr. Blackwood wants to see you directly. Last door on the left.”
I blinked. “Mr. Blackwood? The CEO?”
“Don’t keep him waiting.”
That was all the warning I got.
---
The office was cathedral-like—spacious, cold, and intimidating. Light poured through the panoramic windows behind a sleek black desk. And standing there, back turned, was Liam Blackwood.
My breath caught.
He was taller than I imagined. His presence filled the room like a thunderstorm—crisp black suit, shoulders squared, posture rigid.
“You’re early,” he said, still facing the skyline.
“Yes, sir.”
He turned.
And I forgot how to breathe.
Steel-gray eyes. A jawline sculpted with precision. His dark hair combed back like it obeyed his commands. Everything about him screamed power—and the dangerous kind.
He gestured for me to sit. I did, careful not to trip over my own nerves.
“I reviewed your file,” he said, flipping a page on his desk. “Your resume is… average. But you’re intelligent. Desperate. Willing to do anything to survive.”
That stung more than I cared to admit. “I—I’ve worked hard. My GPA—”
“I don’t need an assistant,” he cut in sharply.
I blinked. “I—excuse me?”
“I need a wife.”
The room fell silent. My pulse hammered in my ears.
“I'm sorry, did you just say—?”
“A wife. Temporary. Six months.” He leaned forward, folding his hands like he was offering a business deal. “In exchange, I’ll pay off your student loans, provide a monthly allowance, and ensure your brother’s medical expenses are covered.”
“How do you know about Ethan?” I whispered.
“I know everything about everyone who enters my building.”
I stared, stunned.
This was insane.
“I came for a job—”
“And I’m offering one. But not the one you expected.”
He stood, walked around the desk until he was towering over me.
“My company is undergoing a high-stakes merger. My board insists I present a ‘stable family image.’ I don’t have time for dating, nor do I believe in love. I just need someone to stand by my side, play the role, and disappear when it’s over.”
I rose from the chair, heart racing. “You can’t be serious.”
“You’ll be legally protected. I won’t touch you. You’ll live in my home, attend events, smile when told. Then you’ll leave with more money than most people earn in five years.”
“And if I say no?”
“You walk out of here and never set foot in this building again. I’ll make sure of it.”
My eyes filled with heat, but I didn’t blink. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He turned away. “You have 48 hours. No more.”
I hesitated. “Why me?”
He paused. “Because you’re invisible enough to be useful—and desperate enough not to ask questions.”
---
When I left the building, the world outside felt louder. Colder. Crueler.
I walked six blocks before I stopped at a bench, dropped onto the seat, and let the wind slap my cheeks.
Marry him?
The thought was insane.
But so was the pile of unpaid bills in my drawer.
So was watching my brother cough up blood last week and having to choose between antibiotics and rent.
So was being one rejection away from sleeping on the street.
I closed my eyes.
“Six months,” I whispered.
And that’s when I knew.
I was going to say yes.
