THE OFFER
Ariella
There are only two reasons a billionaire would request a private meeting with a journalist like me:
To sue me.
Or to silence me.
And considering I just exposed the skeletons rattling inside Cassian Wolfe’s $1.3 trillion empire, I know damn well which one this is.
Still, I walk into the boardroom like I belong here. My heels click against marble floors that cost more than my entire college tuition. I don’t flinch under the stares of his assistants—perfect little mannequins who look like they were bred in a lab. Their eyes track me like I’m the threat, not the truth.
The door to his office opens.
And there he is.
Cassian Wolfe. In the flesh.
Sharp suit. Colder eyes. No smile.
He doesn’t stand when I enter. Of course he doesn’t. Men like him don’t rise for anyone. The world’s already beneath their feet.
“Miss Knox,” he says, finally. His voice is smooth, calm. Like he’s hosting a dinner party instead of staring down the woman who tried to set his life on fire.
“You’re not suing me?” I say, leaning on the edge of the table.
He studies me for a long beat. “Not yet.”
My fingers twitch. “Then what is this?”
“I’m offering you a contract.”
I laugh once, dry and disbelieving. “That’s a bold opening line for someone I should’ve buried in yesterday’s news.”
Cassian leans forward slightly. “That exposé you were going to publish... you’ve delayed it. Why?”
He already knows. Of course he does. He’s got surveillance satellites, data firms, spyware. He probably knows what I had for breakfast.
“I wanted to confirm the details,” I say coolly. “And give you a chance to explain yourself. You’re welcome.”
He smirks. It’s not a pleasant expression. “You were scared. And you should be.”
I force a smile. “I don’t scare easily.”
“You will.”
He slides a folder across the table. Thick. Sealed. Neat.
I don’t touch it. “What’s this?”
“Your new job.”
I raise a brow. “I already have one.”
“Not anymore. Starting today, you’re going to be my fiancée.”
The silence stretches so long I hear the echo of my own breath.
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Cassian’s voice doesn’t waver. “We’ll announce it publicly in seventy-two hours. You’ll live in my penthouse. Attend press events. Wear the ring. Smile for the cameras. For the next twelve months, the world will believe we’re engaged.”
I laugh again, sharper this time. “That’s not a contract. That’s a PR stunt.”
“No,” he says, “it’s protection.”
“For who?”
He tilts his head. “You leaked the first part of that article to your editor. That was a mistake. Because now you’ve made enemies. People who don’t care if you’re right or wrong—they just want you silent. Permanently.”
The words sink in slowly, like ice melting down my spine.
“I can protect you,” he continues, “but I won’t do it for free.”
“So I pretend to love you,” I whisper, “and you pretend I’m not ruining your reputation.”
“Exactly.”
I stare at him. “Why me?”
There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—too quick to name.
“Because you’re the only person whose life will burn just as badly as mine if the truth comes out.”
My heart lurches. He knows.
He knows about that.
My secret. The one buried six years deep.
I want to say no. I want to storm out.
But I open the folder instead.
And just like that, I feel the noose slip around my neck.
