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The Deal

Layla had spent years perfecting the art of appearing unbothered. Smiling when she wanted to scream. Laughing when she wanted to walk away. Looking graceful when she felt like a storm was tearing her apart inside.

Tonight was no different.

After all the congratulations, the photos, and the whispered “You’re so lucky to be marrying Nathan Lancaster,” she had finally managed to slip away from the crowd. Not that it mattered. No matter where she went, she was still trapped in this mess.

And now, here she was—standing in a dimly lit lounge of the event venue, staring at the man she was supposed to marry.

Nathan had his hands in his pockets, his tux jacket slightly unbuttoned now, as if even he was tired of the formalities. His gaze was sharp, calculating, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it.

Annoyance. Frustration. Maybe even exhaustion.

“Alright,” Layla finally said, breaking the silence. “We need to talk.”

Nathan let out a slow breath, his jaw tightening. “Agreed.”

She gestured to the couch nearby. “Sit.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you always this bossy?”

She smiled sweetly. “You have no idea.”

Nathan gave her a dry look but sat anyway. Layla followed, sitting across from him, crossing her legs.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then Nathan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Let’s get straight to the point. There’s no way in hell I’m actually marrying you.”

Layla let out a humorless laugh. “Trust me, Lancaster, you are not my type.”

His lips twitched. “Good to know.”

She tilted her head. “So, what’s your plan? Because I assume you have one.”

Nathan exhaled. “I could tell my father no.”

Layla arched a brow. “And that’s worked in the past?”

He clenched his jaw. “Not exactly.”

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

The weight of the situation settled between them.

Nathan tapped his fingers against his knee. “If we fight this too hard, they’ll just push harder. Our parents aren’t the type to back down easily.”

Layla sighed. “Mine certainly aren’t. And the more we resist, the more suspicious we look. Which means more pressure, more public scrutiny, and more interference.”

Nathan rubbed a hand over his face. “So, what? We go along with it?”

Layla hesitated.

It was a terrible idea. But at the moment, it was the only idea that made sense.

She took a deep breath. “We play along—for now.”

Nathan’s eyes snapped to hers. “Excuse me?”

Layla leaned forward. “Think about it. If we refuse outright, we lose control of the situation. But if we pretend to cooperate, we buy ourselves time.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes. “Time for what?”

“To figure a way out.”

Nathan leaned back, considering her words. “And what happens when they set a wedding date?”

Layla forced a smirk. “We make sure they don’t. We stall, we delay, we create problems whatever it takes. We let them think we’re going along with it until we find a way out that doesn’t destroy our lives.”

Nathan studied her, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small, amused smile played on his lips.

“You’re dangerous, Cladwell.”

Layla smirked. “You have no idea.”

A pause.

Then Nathan reached out a hand. “Fine. We have a deal.”

Layla eyed his hand for a moment before shaking it. His grip was firm, steady.

This was it. Their temporary truce.

Two unwilling pawns in their parents’ game, working together to break free.

Now, they just had to make sure they didn’t get caught.

Or worse actually start falling for the lie.