Bought For a Lie

CHAPTER 3

One Month, One Lie

Fina's POV

My hands continued to shake. I looked across the bakery floor at the broken glass, the letter still crumpled in my fingers.

Michael was quiet yet vigilant as he knelt next to the brick. As if used to this kind of warning, he examined the jagged edges. As if that didn't frighten him.

But I was afraid.

"This must end," I murmured, my voice hardly audible above a whisper.

He raised his head. "It will. after I've taken care of you.”

I detested his tone, as if I were a delicate object that need protection. He wasn't mistaken, however. We had been observed by someone. Someone asked me to refuse.

"I'll do it," I muttered.

Michael's eyes remained closed. He seems unsurprised. Just content.

"For a month," I hastily added. "Neither more nor less."

He got up and wiped his jacket of imaginary dust. "I agree."

To get the broom, I went. My sneakers crunched on the glass. Suddenly, I felt as if a piece of my existence had also broken open.

In quiet, Michael assisted me in sweeping. I paused at the way he moved, like if he wasn't above performing filthy job.

"Do you often get threats?" I inquired.

He said, "More than I'd want." "But not often this intimate."

His eyes met mine as he halted.

"Fina, that letter wasn't for me. It was for you.

I was aware of it beforehand. But it became true when you heard it out.

Michael quickly called to have the window replaced and walked out. In an hour, he promised to send someone to repair it. He reminded me of the conditions before leaving.

"Stow your belongings. Tonight, we're heading to the cabin.

"What cabin?"

"A board retreat over the weekend will be our first appearance. They anticipate us.

I felt sick to my stomach. "The arrangement didn't include it."

"Now," he stated plainly. "Remember that you are my fiancée? Together, they will want to see us.

I ought to have declined. However, I didn't.

Because, deep down, there was a small part of me that was interested, despite the fact that my world was whirling.

I threw clothing into a bag I hadn't used in years as I stood in front of my little closet that evening. Everything seemed too worn out and too basic.

Would a fiancée of a millionaire dress in sweaters with cupcake prints and faded jeans?

I snatched up several simple blouses and hoped he wasn't going to dress me up like a princess.

At precisely seven o'clock, Michael showed up. No limousine. Not a fancy automobile. The SUV was a sleek black vehicle with dark windows and soft music playing.

Still unsure whether I was making the worst choice of my life, I got in.

It was a lengthy ride. We seldom exchanged words.

The lights went off as soon as we left the city, and woods replaced them. We continued driving till the roads became narrower and my phone's service vanished.

I let out a gasp as we eventually arrived at the cottage.

It wasn't a cabin.

With its glass walls, pleasant lighting, and snow-dusted roofs, the mansion looked like it belonged in a magazine. Huge yet cozy.

"This is how you envision a cabin?" I inquired as I left.

He grinned. "Wait till you have a look inside."

He was telling the truth. The fireplace in the main room was already roaring. I wouldn't venture to enter a chef's kitchen. And a walk-in closet that's larger than the kitchen of my bakery.

He put his keys down and I stood clumsily in the doorway.

He said, "This is real now."

I looked over at him. "What comes next, then?"

He gave me a little package.

There was a diamond ring within.

I couldn't tell whether it was genuine or fake. However, it gleamed like a promise.

"Whenever you meet us, you wear this," he said. "And grinned as if it meant anything."

I put it on. It was overly large and felt frigid. I didn't remove it, however.

The weekend passed more quickly than I had anticipated.

I learned how to enter a room like I belonged from Michael. How to respond to inquiries in a kind but detached manner. How to seem to be in love without ever making physical contact.

However, the most challenging aspect was assuming a false identity.

Every time I glanced in the mirror, I saw a girl wearing a dazzling falsehood on her finger and exuding borrowed confidence.

The celebration followed.

Twelve individuals in suits, all with keen eyes and tight grins, had assembled at the cabin for dinner with Michael's board.

He presented me as if I were the stars and the moon. As if I were the greatest thing that had ever brought him joy.

My cheeks ached from smiling so much.

During supper, one of the ladies leaned close.

She said, "So, how did you two meet?"

Michael started to speak, but I spoke before him.

"Through pastries," I murmured, chuckling softly. He purchased twelve cupcakes. did not consume any of them. just returned the next day.

The table chuckled.

Michael gave me a funny look. "She is correct."

The lines became hazy as the night went on.

Beneath the table, he grabbed for my hand.

I didn't back off.

As people began to leave after dinner, we remained by the fireplace.

He said, "You're a better liar than I imagined."

I glanced up at him. "You make everything simple."

There was a flash in his eyes. It's too genuine.

And I was afraid of it.

I closed the door to the room I was sleeping in and looked at the bed. On the pillow lay a white envelope.

I grabbed it.

No name. Only one line within.

**He is not who you believe him to be. He's also observing you when you sleep.

With my pulse pounding, I dropped the paper.

My gaze strayed to the windows, where there were no curtains and just the encroaching darkness.

With my hand reaching for the light, I slowly retreated.

A shadow passed across the panes.

There was someone out there.

There was a spectator.

And now, this falsehood had drawn me into something much more profound than I could have ever imagined.