THE CEO’S 6-MONTH WIFE

CHAPTER 2:THE REAL DEAL

The precinct smelled like old coffee, bleach, and panic.

Elena sat on a plastic chair that was too small and too orange, still wearing the diner dress from 2 AM. Her mascara was smudged. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. On the metal table in front of her was a manila folder and the photo.

The photo of her mother.

Clara, in her hospital bed, looking smaller than Elena remembered. And across the corner, in Hale’s jagged handwriting: We own her too.

“Miss Voss?” Detective Miller sat across from her. She was in her 40s, tired eyes, no-nonsense bob. “I’m going to be straight with you. Richard Hale isn’t Richard Hale.”

Elena blinked. “What?”

“His real name is Daniel Price.” The detective slid a mugshot across the table. Different face. Same smile. “Four counts of wire fraud. Two counts of identity theft. Six women he’s done this to in the last three years.”

The room tilted.

“He finds women with medical debt,” Miller continued, voice softening. “He offers to pay the bills. In exchange, they sign marriage papers. Business marriage. He uses their credit, their social security, their names to open accounts. Then he vanishes.”

Elena’s throat went dry. “The contract… it said $500,000 for Clara’s treatment. Paid upfront.”

“Did you get any money?” the other detective asked. He was younger, with a notepad.

“No. We were supposed to meet at the bank after” She cut herself off. After they signed. After the men burst in.

Miller tapped the photo. “Do you know who wrote this?”

Elena shook her head. She didn’t. But she knew what it meant. A threat.

She stood up too fast. The chair screeched. “I need to call the hospital. I need to make sure my mom is”

The double doors to the precinct slammed open.

Every head turned.

Rain dripped from his coat onto the linoleum. He was tall, at least 6’2, in a black suit that looked like it cost more than her car. No tie. White shirt open at the collar. Sleeves rolled to his elbows like he’d been in a fight.

But it was his face that stopped everyone’s breathing.

Sharp jaw. Dark hair wet and falling over his forehead. And eyes. Blue. Ice-blue. Furious, exhausted, and so beautiful it felt like a personal attack.

“Where is he?” His voice was low. Controlled. The kind of voice that gave orders in boardrooms and people listened.

Detective Miller stood immediately. “Mr. Cross. We have the situation contained. The suspect is in custody.”

Adrian Cross.

The name from the contract. The name Hale had forged.

His gaze swept the room once. Past the cops. Past the desk sergeant. And landed on her.

Elena felt it like a physical blow.

“You,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

Elena stood, because sitting felt wrong with him looking at her like that. “I didn’t know,” she said quickly. The words tumbled out. “I swear I didn’t know he wasn’t you. He showed me your company website. He had your signature. I thought”

“Stop.”

One word. And she did.

Adrian walked closer. He smelled like rain and cedar and something expensive. His jaw was tight. There was a muscle jumping there.

“You signed a contract with my name on it,” he said. “Do you have any idea what that means?”

“That I’m an i***t?” The words came out before she could stop them. Defensive. Scared.

For a fraction of a second, something flickered in his eyes. Not amusement. Not quite.

“That you’re a liability,” he corrected. “To me. To my company. To whatever mess Price was planning.”

Miller cleared her throat. “Mr. Cross, we can handle this. We’ll need a statement from Miss Voss and then”

“I’ll handle it.”

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a folder. Black. Leather. No logo. He set it on the table between them and opened it.

New papers. Crisp. Her name typed neatly at the top. Elena Voss.

His name below it. Adrian Cross.

The same terms as Hale’s fake contract. $500,000 to be paid to St. Catherine’s Hospital for Clara Voss. Six months of marriage. Public appearances. No separate residences.

And then, in bold: No feelings. No intimacy. No questions about the past.

Elena stared at it. “This is the same”

“It’s not the same,” Adrian cut in. “Hale’s was a scam. This one is enforceable. By me.”

“So what? You’re going to sue me?”

“I’m going to give you a choice.” He leaned forward, palms flat on the table. Up close, she could see the faint scar through his left eyebrow. She could see how tired he was under the fury. “Option one. You walk out that door right now. I’ll have my legal team deal with Price. You’ll never see me again. Your mother’s hospital bills also won’t get paid. Not by me.”

The air left her lungs.

“Option two.” His voice dropped. Only for her. “You sign this. The real contract. You come home with me tonight. You play the part of my wife for six months. And in return, I pay every single bill for your mother’s care. Private suite. Best doctors. Everything.”

Elena’s hands were shaking. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“Because he used my name.” Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “And I don’t let people finish what they start with my name.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

The precinct was silent. She could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights. She could hear her own heart.

Clara. The chemo bills. The collection calls. The nurse who’d whispered last week, _“We might have to move her to general care if payment doesn’t come through.”_

Elena looked at Adrian. Really looked. He was angry. But under it, there was something else. Grief, maybe. Or rage at being used.

She hated that she could see it. It made him human.

“Is there a catch?” she whispered.

“There are three,” he said. “Clause one: No feelings. Clause two: No sharing a bed. Clause three: No asking about the past.”

“And if I break them?”

“Then the contract is void. And so is your mother’s payment.”

It was blackmail. Dressed up in a suit and a five-hundred-thousand-dollar promise.

Elena picked up the pen. It was heavier than it should’ve been.

“One question,” she said.

Adrian didn’t nod, but he waited.

“Why the sapphire ring?”

His expression didn’t change. “The details aren’t in the contract.”

Of course they weren’t.

She signed. Elena Voss.The ink was dark and final.

Adrian took the papers from her. His fingers brushed hers. Cold.

“Good,” he said. “My driver is outside.”

“That’s it?” She stood too. “We’re married now?”

“We were married the second you signed Hale’s fraud,” he said. “This just makes it legal.”

Miller stepped forward. “Mr. Cross, we’ll still need her for a statement later”

“My lawyers will call you,” Adrian said, already turning. “Tonight.”

He didn’t look at her again as he walked toward the doors. But he paused at the threshold.

“Mrs. Cross,” he said over his shoulder. “You coming?”

Mrs. Cross.

The name felt like a noose and a lifeline at the same time.

Elena took one last look at the photo of her mom. Then she followed him out into the rain.

Because she didn’t have a choice.

And because, God help her, she wanted to know why a man like Adrian Cross looked at her like she was the one who’d ruined his life.