ONE MILLION REASONS TO SAY YES.
The rain didn’t care that Ivy Cruise had nowhere left to go.
It fell hard and cold, soaking through the thin fabric of her thrifted blouse, plastering her hair to her face as she clutched the strap of her worn-out backpack. The city moved around her like she was invisible—umbrellas gliding past, expensive heels splashing through puddles, people too busy living to notice the girl whose life was quietly falling apart.
A coffee shop window glowed warm against the dark evening, and Ivy stopped, her reflection ghosting in the glass. Behind it, people laughed over lattes, wrapped in scarves and security. For a second, she pressed her palm to the window, wishing she could step into that world.
But wishes didn’t pay rent.
Neither did the little catering job she’d just lost when the restaurant shut down without warning. And with her landlord’s eviction notice crumpled in her pocket, Ivy knew she had less than twenty-four hours before she’d be sleeping on the streets.
When her phone buzzed in her pocket, she fished it out with trembling hands. The cracked screen lit up with a name she hadn’t seen in a year.
Skylar Shawn.
Her best friend. The only person who ever believed she could be more than the girl from nowhere.
Ivy answered on the second ring. “Em?”
“Ivy! Thank God you picked up,” Skylar said, her voice a blend of relief and urgency. “Where are you right now?”
“Outside,” Ivy murmured. “In the rain, apparently. Long story.”
“I can tell. Listen—my brother’s boss is hosting a charity gala tonight. I’m sending you the location. You need to come.”
Ivy frowned. “Skylar, I can’t just walk into one of Sebastian Holt’s billionaire events. I don’t even have clean shoes.”
“Trust me, you can. I’ll meet you at the staff entrance. Please, Ivy. You’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
And before Ivy could protest, the line went dead.
---
By the time she arrived, the Holt Hotel shimmered like a glass castle under the city lights. Valets in black suits opened doors for women draped in silk and diamonds. Ivy stood frozen for a moment, staring up at the gold-lettered sign that screamed money.
“Skylar’s friend?” a guard asked at the side entrance.
Ivy nodded, clutching her bag. He gestured her in, and suddenly she was stepping through a corridor that smelled like champagne and polished marble.
Skylar met her halfway, radiant as always—sleek blonde hair, satin gown, effortless grace.
“You look like a drowned kitten,” Skylar said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along.
“I feel like one,” Ivy muttered.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.”
Ten minutes later, Ivy stood in the dressing room in a borrowed black gown that hugged her figure like it was meant for her, hair dried, makeup light but elegant. She barely recognized herself.
“I still don’t get why I’m here,” Ivy said, glancing in the mirror.
Skylar hesitated, then sighed. “Because you need help. And because my brother's boss needs… something too.”
“What kind of something?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Before Ivy could press further, a deep voice cut through the air. “Skylar”
They both turned.
Sebastian Holt stood in the doorway like he owned the oxygen in the room. Six foot three, all tailored suit and quiet authority, his gray eyes flickered from his sister to Ivy. They lingered.
Skylar smiled nervously. “Seb, this is Ivy Cruise. My best friend. Remember? From college.”
His gaze swept over Ivy—curious, unreadable, and far too intense. “I remember,” he said finally, though his tone suggested he remembered more than he was willing to admit.
“Hi,” Ivy said softly. “Thank you for letting me crash your event.”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head, studying her like she was a riddle he wasn’t sure he wanted to solve. “You clean up well,” he said at last.
Ivy stiffened. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.”
“It’s an observation.”
Sk gave her brother a look. “Seb, play nice.” Then, turning to Ivy, she whispered, “He’s not always this charming.”
Sebastian’s lips curved faintly. “You said you needed to talk, Emily. Make it quick. I have investors waiting.”
Emily hesitated. “Actually… it’s Ivy who needs to talk to you.”
“What?” Ivy’s eyes widened. “Emily, I didn’t—”
But Sebastian had already turned to her. “Go on.”
“I—this isn’t how I planned this,” Ivy stammered. “I lost my job. My apartment. I just… need work. Any work. Even temporary.”
Sebastian’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes. He glanced at his sister, then back at Ivy.
“What if I told you,” he said slowly, “I had a job that paid a million dollars?”
Ivy blinked. “A million?”
He nodded, stepping closer, his presence overpowering. “But it comes with conditions.”
“Such as?”
“You marry me.”
The words landed like thunder. Ivy blinked up at him, sure she’d misheard. “Excuse me?”
“Legally. Publicly. For one year,” he continued, calm and deliberate. “I need a wife. My ex-fiancée is marrying my biggest rival next month, and I have investors watching my every move. I can’t afford to look like the man she left behind.”
“You want to make her jealous,” Ivy said quietly.
“I want control of the narrative,” he corrected.
“And you think I’d agree to that?”
“You need stability,” he said simply. “A home. Money. Medical insurance. Everything you’ve been denied. You give me the image I need, and when it’s over, you walk away a millionaire.”
Ivy’s laugh was dry. “You think you can just buy a person like that?”
“I think you’re smart enough to see a lifeline when it’s thrown at you,” he replied evenly. “You have until midnight to decide.”
Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving the scent of his cologne and the echo of his offer hanging in the air.
Emily turned to Ivy, wide-eyed. “I swear, I didn’t know he’d do that.”
Ivy sank into the nearest chair, her heart pounding. A million dollars. A fake marriage. A man who made her feel like she was standing too close to the sun.
For the first time in her life, Ivy Cruise had a choice that wasn’t between hunger and hopelessness.
But as she looked through the glass doors at Sebastian Holt shaking hands with dignitaries, she realized something chilling—
Every choice comes with a price.
And his would cost her far more than she could ever imagine.
---
