Bought For a Lie

CHAPTER 2

An Outsider in a Suit

Fina’s POV

There was no movement from the guy across the street. I could still feel his gaze like cold air on exposed flesh, even though his cowl covered the most of his face.

My heart pounded in my chest as I stood still beside the window. It was no coincidence that he was there. I had no doubt about it.

He then veered off and vanished down the alley.

Above my door, the bell jingled.

A tall guy in a blue suit confronted me as I swung around, feeling tense. The guy with the hoodie wasn't him. This one was out of place, confident, and straight. For my dirty floor, his shoes seemed too clean.

"Fina Rowe?" He had a deep, silky voice.

Slowly, I nodded. "Yes?"

As if he owned the air, he entered. Claymore, Michael. Claymore Holdings

My eyes became big. Like a vehicle, the name struck me. He was the millionaire whose business was purchasing the whole block. It was the one about which we small company owners had been chatting for weeks.

"What are you looking for?" Trying to speak steadily, I asked.

He looked around. Please give me a few minutes. In a quiet setting.

I paused. "Why?"

"I'm not here to do you harm." I'm here to make you an offer.

My whole being cried out, "No." However, my curiosity replied in the affirmative.

I walked him over to the little table in the rear beside the kitchen. Suddenly, the damaged tiles and flour sacks seemed to be on exhibit.

Michael seems unconcerned. After bringing out a chair, he sat down and opened a sophisticated black folder.

"I am aware of your bakery," he said. "I am aware that your rent is past due. I am aware that your suppliers are leaving.

I tensed up. "Are you watching me?"

He raised his head. Before making an investment, I do research. Additionally, I want to invest in you.

I folded my arms. "Why? You're not even familiar with me.

"I've had enough. You have skill. You just don't have enough resources. He hesitated. "And at this moment, I happen to need someone like you."

I furrowed my brows. "A somebody similar to me?"

He leaned a little forward. "I need a fictitious fiancée."

It took some time for the words to sink in. I gave him a blink.

"What?"

He was not smiling. "I have a bargain in mind. a huge combination. The investors, however, are traditional. They want to see me anchored and established. In love. A wife, or a prospective wife, at any rate.

I gazed. "You want me to pose as your fiancée, then?"

Only for a month. I'll settle all of your bakery's debts in exchange. I'll purchase new gear for you. You leave with a new beginning.

I gave a tremulous chuckle. "That sounds crazy."

He gave a shrug. "It's business. I help you live, and you make me look nice. It's tidy. No romanticism. Only a plan.

I squinted. "What if I decline?"

In two weeks, your bakery will probably shut. The buyout proceeds. You get nothing.

His remarks were icy but not nasty. As if he didn't give a damn about my choice of career. As if he already knew what I would choose.

I got up. "I don't try to market myself,"

He looked directly into my eyes. "Fina, everyone sells something. You are a pastry vendor. Power is what I sell.

Behind me, the oven beeped. The room was filled with the scent of burning cookies.

I gazed first at him and then at the smoke coming up from behind. the background sound of the peaceful, motionless register. No clients. There is no hope.

He waited, quietly watching me.

"What would I have to do exactly?" Slowly, I asked.

Widening the folder, he saw a comprehensive contract. dates that are open to the public. Attend a few of events. Put on a ring. Grin. Not much more.

"No kissing? Nothing strange?

He grinned. "Just if you'd want to. This book isn't about romance. It is a commercial transaction.

The documents hazed before my eyes. It didn't seem right. It seemed like my only chance, however.

"I need time to reflect."

He gave a nod. "You have till tomorrow." I'll be back by 10 a.m.

As if the discussion hadn't rattled us both, he rose up and buttoned his jacket.

Then he took a silver business card out of his pocket and placed it on the counter.

"Call me if you decide to alter your mind before then."

The bell rung again as I watched him leave the room.

I took the card. In my hand, it felt weighty.

My mind was racing. A phony fiancée? For a billionaire?

This is not the world for me. Cinnamon buns and buttercream were my calling. Not cameras and jewels.

But like a red caution flag, the word "closed" raced across my head. Furthermore, the guy wearing the hoodie before wasn't simply a stranger. I had a feeling he was involved in all of this. In some way.

That night, I hardly slept at all.

My skull ached from all the pondering by morning.

I still hadn't made up my mind at 9:55 a.m.

Once again, the bell jingled at 10:01 a.m.

Michael entered with two coffee cups in his hands.

"I thought you would say yes," he said.

I scowled. "You have a lot of confidence in yourself."

I have a lot of money. The mindset is part of it.

I accepted the coffee while rolling my eyes.

He gave the contract to me once again. I examined it this time. glanced closely.

He had already signed his name at the bottom.

I traced my name over the area with my finger. My hand trembled.

"This will ensure the bakery's survival." I muttered.

He gave a nod. "It flourishes."

I grabbed the pen.

We both jumped when there was a loud crash outside.

We sprinted to the window in front.

Through the window someone had hurled a brick.

A message rested on top of shards that gleamed on the floor.

Michael was the first to take it up. After giving it a cursory glance, he gave it to me.

**Don't get involved, Michael. She is not for sale. You've received a warning.

My digits became numb.

Michael looked across at me. "It seems like someone is paying attention to us."

My voice was hardly audible. "Who would act in this way?"

He stared, mouth clenched, out the smashed glass.

"Someone who is too knowledgeable."

With my heart racing, I took a step back.

Because I knew precisely who it was in my heart.

I was still a target for the guy in the hoodie.

A millionaire with influence and a stranger who wished for me to avoid him were now at odds with each other.