Chapter 3
1258 Words
The city’s noise blurred into a hum as her mind replayed the incident. She’d refused the sleek car he’d offered. Sitting in that silent, expensive bubble felt like accepting the first part of the lie already.
She spent the rest of the day at her gallery, trying to lose herself in her painting, only leaving as the evening light faded.
The word kept time with her steps on the pavement.
Revenge. Revenge. Revenge.
It had seemed so straightforward in his quiet, perfect office. A simple trade. His revenge for hers.
But outside, with the city breathing all around her and the weather turning dark, the idea turned sour in her gut. It didn't feel simple anymore. It felt heavy and dangerous.
A rough laugh escaped her. “Just have to play girlfriend with a man who looks like that,” she muttered to a passing pigeon. What did she know about dating a billionaire?
But her traitorous mind replayed him anyway. Not the cold CEO but the handsome young man. The way his green eyes had changed when she’d stood up to him. The way his voice had gone low and quiet, a rumble she’d felt in her bones. It had felt like a touch.
“Stop it, Alex,” she muttered, physically shaking her head. A man like that didn’t fall for girls like her. He collected them. Used them as tools.
“Get a grip, Alex,” she whispered fiercely. “This is about the gallery. It’s about proving them wrong. It is not about his stupid eyes.”
The weather betrayed her just as she arrived at her apartment building, the sky opening up with a heavy downpour. She shoved the stubborn main door with her shoulder before it finally swung open.
The apartment was quiet. She dropped her bag, walked to the couch, and dropped face down onto it. The old couch creaked. She let out a long, tired sigh from her very bones.
“My baby is back!”
Alex shot upright, her heart in her throat. That voice. She knew that voice.
Chloe stood smiling in the kitchen doorway, holding two plates loaded with messy cheese sandwiches. “Before you ask,” she said, “I came back early. Surprise?”
“Chloe? What are you doing here?” Alex asked, her voice still tight with adrenaline. “You’re supposed to be in Ohio. Your mom…”
“...is driving my dad crazy, which means she’s pretty much back to normal,” Chloe finished, her smile becoming a little strained. She thrust a plate at Alex. “Eat. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What is it?”
“Chloe, you should be there. You said she needed help…”
“She needed an audience. I was fresh out of applause.” Chloe dropped down on the other end of the couch. “So, don’t try to change the subject. Why do you look like your world ended and you’re weirdly okay with it? Did the gallery finally sell a painting to someone who isn’t your roommate?”
Alex took a bite of the sandwich. It was buttery and perfect. “I got evicted.”
The sandwich in Chloe’s hand froze halfway to her mouth. “You… what?” she said, the words slow and disbelieving. “Alex. Your dream is getting crushed. Why are you so calm? Why aren’t we burning the place down right now?”
“Will you let me explain if you stop yelling?” Alex snapped back.
Chloe held up her hands in surrender. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just… shocked. Talk.”
Alex took a shaky breath. “I spilled coffee on my first customer, and immediately got an eviction notice from his company.”
“Okay, hold on.” Chloe leaned forward, her food forgotten. “You assaulted a customer, and you think he evicted you out of spite? That’s a little dramatic, even for a billionaire.”
“It’s not spite,” Alex said, her voice dropping. “It’s leverage. I went to his office to beg for my gallery back. And he was there. The coffee guy.”
Chloe’s eyes widened. “No. Who is he? Some slumlord property manager?”
“His name is Jayden Radcliffe.”
The color drained from Chloe’s face. “Jayden… as in the billionaire tech guy Jayden Radcliffe? The one on the cover of Forbes last month?”
“Is there a fake one?” Alex deadpanned.
“Alex, this is insane!” Chloe scrambled to her knees on the couch. “This has ‘catfish scam’ written all over it! Or a serial killer! Probably both! What did he do? What did he want?”
“He made me a deal,” Alex said, the words feeling foreign and heavy.
“What kind of deal?” Chloe’s face was a mixture of terror and fascination.
“The kind where I get my gallery. Fully funded. My name on the deed. Everything.”
“In exchange for what?” Chloe pressed, her eyes narrowing. “Your firstborn child? A kidney?”
Alex looked down at her hands, unable to meet her friend’s gaze. “In exchange for one month. In New York, where I have to pretend to be his girlfriend.”
The silence that followed was so thick you could feel it. Chloe just stared, her mouth hanging open. All the jokes were gone. Just pure shock.
Finally, she found her voice. “His what? Alex… tell me you didn’t sign anything.”
Before Alex could answer, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. An unknown number.
Unknown: 8 PM tomorrow. The Windsor Hotel rooftop. Consider it a business meeting for now. Dress to convince.
Alex’s blood ran cold. Tomorrow. It was too fast.
“Alex?” Chloe’s voice was worried. “What is it? You don't look so well.”
Alex quickly flipped her phone over, trying to hide the message. “It’s nothing. A wrong number.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue.
Chloe’s eyes narrowed. She knew that look. “Don’t ‘nothing’ me. Was that him? Did he text you? What did he say?”
“Chloe, I can’t…”
“You can,” Chloe insisted, crawling across the couch to grab Alex’s hands. Her own were warm and solid. “You signed your life away to a stranger, Alex. You have to talk to me. What’s the first test? What does he want you to do?”
The weight of it all, the secret, the fear, the surreal reality of the deal, pressed down on Alex. “He wants me to meet him tomorrow. To pretend in public.” Her mind rehearsed the words.
But before she could say anything more, a loud sound cut through the apartment.
Thump. Thump-thump.
The sound came again, louder this time. Three sharp, impatient blows that shook the door frame.
Both women froze, their conversation forgotten. They weren’t expecting anyone.
Chloe went still, her eyes wide with fear, all thoughts of billionaires momentarily vanished. “Are you expecting a package?”
“No,” Alex whispered, her heart beating wildly. “None that I know of.”
She crept to the door, Chloe right behind her. Peering through the peephole, she saw a man in a dark jacket. His face was hard, his posture tense. He didn't look like he was delivering
anything.
“Ms. Alexandria Vance?” a rough voice called out. “Open up. We need to talk about your lease.
- Writer
