BOUND BY FATE

(Prologue) The hotel room was bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, shadows dancing across the silk sheets as Emilia Laurent lay awake. Her head is still in a haze. Her body still tingled from the night before, from the touch of the man sleeping beside her– the man she should never have met. Alex Clarkson Even in sleep, he looked powerful, his sharp jawline relaxed, dark lashes fanned against his cheeks. The same man who had unknowingly become part of her stepmother and stepsister’s cruel game. Except they had miscalculated. Instead of being ruined by some nameless stranger, she had fallen into the arms of one of the wealthiest, most influential men in the country. And now she was about to disappear from his world forever. Emilia slipped out of the bed carefully, gathering her clothes in silence. Her heart pounded as she stole one last glance at him, memorizing the way he looked, the way his presence had felt so intoxicating yet fleeting. She shouldn't have let it happen. With one final breath, she turned and walked away. By the time the sun rose, Emilia was on a plane, leaving behind what would now be her painful past. She asked for help from the only relative she knew would help her, and soon– her life would start afresh. Four years Later… Alex Clarkson had spent years chasing ghosts. He remembered the night– the way she had felt, the way her voice had sounded in the dimly lit room. But her face? It had become an elusive dream, blurred by time and the haze of whiskey. Still, he searched. He had no name, no trace– just the unshakeable feeling that something had been taken from him that night. Something important. (End of prologue) (Present day, 3rd person Pov) “Face to face with the Past” Emilia Laurent adjusted her blazer and took a deep breath as she stepped into Clarkson Jewels — one of the most prestigious jewellery companies in the country. She had prepared for this moment for years, perfecting her craft, honing her skills. This interview was her chance to step into big leagues. But what she hadn't prepared for was the past colliding with her present. The sleek, modern lobby buzzed with activity as she approached the receptionist’s desk. “Emilia Laurent. I have an interview scheduled for the lead designer position”. The receptionist gave her a polite smile before typing something into her computer. Just as Emilia reached for the portfolio in her bag, the receptionist’s expression shifted to one of surprise. “Oh, um… Mr. Clarkson has requested to conduct your interview himself. Please follow me”. Emilia's breath hitched. No. No, it couldn't be. She forced a polite nod, but her fingers tightened around her portfolio as she followed the receptionist down the long glass-paneled hallway. With each step, her heart pounded harder. The past she had buried for four years was about to resurface. She had thought she'd be able to slip into his company unnoticed. That the odds of running into him– out of all the Clarksons were slim. But of course, fate had other plans. The receptionist stopped in front of large double doors. “You can go in. Mr. Clarkson is expecting you”. Emilia hesitated for just a fraction of a second before pushing the doors open. And there he was. Alex Clarkson The man she had spent four years trying to forget. The man who, unknowingly, was the father of her child. He sat behind a massive glass desk, an air of power surrounding him. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his brown hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it moments ago. He looked up from a document he was reviewing, and the moment their eyes met, Emilia felt a cold shiver run down her spine. He doesn't recognise me. At least, not completely. His sharp gaze studied her, lingering a second too long, as if something about her was familiar– as if he knew her but couldn't place why. “Miss Laurent”, he said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “Have a seat”. Emilia's fingers clenched around her portfolio but she forced herself to remain composed. She sat down, crossing one leg over the other, keeping her expression neutral. Alex tilted his head slightly. Watching. Studying. He had interviewed countless people in his career, but something about this woman unsettled him. Something about her presence pulled at something deep inside him. “So”, he began, lacing his fingers together, “I was going to let my hiring team handle this, but I changed my mind”. She swallowed. “Oh?” “I like to oversee things personally when someone catches my interest”. Her stomach tightened. Did he mean professionally or was there something else beneath those words? For the next twenty minutes, she kept her composure as he questioned her about her experience, her designs, her vision for Clarkson Jewels. And yet, the entire time, she could feel his eyes searching her, like he was trying to unravel a mystery. Then, just when she thought the interview was ending, he leaned forward, his gaze darkening. “Tell me, Miss Laurent”, he said, his voice deceptively calm. “Why do I feel like we've met before?” Her heart pounded, but she forced a small, polite smile. “I don't believe we have, Mr. Clarkson”. His jaw tightened. Liar. He could feel it. See it in the tension in her shoulder, the way her fingers twitched ever so slightly. But he let it go. For now. Instead, he grabbed a folder from his desk and slid it toward her. “This isn't just a job offer”, he said. “This is a proposal”. Emilia frowned as she opened the folder and skimmed the contract inside. Engagement Contract? Her fingers clenched the paper as she looked back up at him in shock. “What is this?” Alex exhaled, his sharp gaze locking onto hers. “I don't believe in coincidences, Miss Laurent. And I especially don't believe in fate bringing you here without a reason”. He leaned back, his expression unreadable. “I've spent years looking for something I lost. And now, you walk into my office”. She swallowed hard, gripping the contract tighter “You're an incredible designer. That's not in question. But I want more than your talent”. His voice dropped slightly. “I want the truth”. Her pulse skyrocketed. “The contract states that you'll pretend to be my fiancée. In exchange, you'll have control over the design department and every resource at your disposal”. His expression darkened. “You'll also work closely with me”. She glared at him. “And if I refuse?” He shrugged. “Then I'll still find out what you're hiding. But this way, you benefit from the deal”. Her mind raced. This was dangerous.