Faking Forever with the CEO

Aarini Verma had exactly one shot to save her career. And it involved pretending to be engaged to a man she despised. Sitting in the sleek, glass-walled office of Sterling Marketing, Aarini’s heart pounded beneath her tailored blazer. She crossed her legs, forcing herself to appear calm even as her boss, Mr. Mehra, peered at her with disappointment. “You know why you’re here,” he said, adjusting his silver-framed glasses. Aarini swallowed, her grip tightening on the leather portfolio in her lap. Of course, she knew. Her last campaign—one she had bet everything on—had flopped. A high-profile client had pulled out, and suddenly, her entire career was hanging by a thread. “I understand that the campaign didn’t perform as expected, but—” “Aarini, we’re not in a position for ‘buts.’” Mr. Mehra leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “The board is losing confidence. Your competitors are circling like vultures. If you don’t find a way to turn things around, you’ll be replaced.” Aarini’s stomach twisted. She had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to be dismissed like this. “I’ll fix this,” she said, her voice steady despite the anxiety creeping in. Mr. Mehra studied her for a moment, then slid a sleek black envelope across the table. “Then you’ll take this meeting.” She frowned but reached for the envelope, flipping it open. Inside was a crisp, ivory-colored invitation. Kian Malhotra requests your presence. Her pulse skipped a beat. Kian Malhotra. The Kian Malhotra. Billionaire. CEO of Malhotra Enterprises. Ruthless. Untouchable. “What does Kian Malhotra want with me?” Aarini asked warily. Mr. Mehra smirked. “A fiancée.” The Devil in Armani The Malhotra Enterprises headquarters was intimidating, even for someone like Aarini, who had spent years navigating boardrooms filled with powerful men. The receptionist led her into a private conference room—a luxurious space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Mumbai’s skyline. And there he was. Kian Malhotra. Dark-haired, tall, and exuding power in a custom Armani suit. He sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable as he tapped a gold pen against the polished wood surface. Aarini had seen his photos in Forbes, heard whispers of his business deals—how he never lost. But in person, he was dangerously magnetic. “Miss Verma.” His voice was deep, smooth, with an edge of authority. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. “Mr. Malhotra.” He gestured to the seat across from him. “Sit.” She took her time, setting her purse down before lowering herself gracefully. Kian studied her, his sharp eyes assessing, calculating. “I won’t waste time,” he said. “I need a fiancée.” Aarini barely kept her expression neutral. “I’m sorry, what?” He slid a folder toward her. “I have a billion-dollar deal pending with an international investor. They value family-oriented business partners. A committed relationship will secure the contract.” Aarini arched a brow. “And you thought of me? Flattered.” “You’re not my first choice.” Kian’s lips curled slightly, but there was no humor in his tone. “But you’re the best option. You have class, intelligence, and a clean public image. And you need this.” Aarini’s breath hitched. He knew. Her silence must have amused him because he leaned back, his fingers steepling. “Word in the industry is that you’re one failed project away from losing your position.” Heat crept up her neck. “That’s none of your concern.” “It is if I’m offering you a solution.” Aarini clenched her jaw. She should have walked out. Should have told him exactly where to shove his proposal. But she couldn’t. Because Kian Malhotra was right. She was desperate. “What do you expect from this… arrangement?” she asked carefully. Kian pushed another document toward her. A contract. “You will be my fiancée for six months. Public appearances. Interviews. Events. We play the perfect couple until the deal is signed.” “And in return?” Kian’s gaze darkened. “You will have exclusive marketing rights to my next company acquisition. A project worth more than any failed campaign you’ve had.” Aarini’s fingers twitched. It was tempting. Too tempting. But there was something else. Something unspoken in his gaze. “And what happens if I say no?” she asked. Kian smirked. “Then you walk out of here… and watch your career sink.” Aarini hated him. But she hated failure more. So, with steady fingers, she picked up the pen. And signed her soul away. ---