Fake Fiancée :Glass Sterling(Short Story)

The Contract

The private elevator of the Grandview Hotel moved so smoothly you couldn't feel it climbing, but the digital floor display overhead was a blur of numbers rushing upward toward the penthouse suite.

The oak door clicked shut behind us, locking out the noise of the gala, the flashing cameras, and the terrifying realization that I had just agreed to a public farce with one of the most powerful men in the country dawned on me like a hurricane.

Oh god , what have I done.

I mean. I didn't run over a cat but might as well have looked in Garfield's sorrowful eyes with a gun pointed to his head.

I must have been mad. Yes. High on the music. The glitz and shinny runway outfits of the rich. It was a ballroom full of wealthy people in Tiffany and Swarovski. It was deafening. And Julian just happened to propose to me.

I wrenched away from Julian’s side, stumbling slightly against the edge of a matte marble coffee table.

"Are you insane?" I hissed, clutching my chest as my heart hammered against my ribs.

"A fiancée? You didn't mention a fiancée when we made our arrangement in your office yesterday afternoon. You said you needed a date to get the board off your back about your 'bachelor image'!"

Julian walked over to a sleek wet bar built into the corner of the room, pouring two fingers of amber whiskey into a crystal tumbler. He didn't look at me, but the tension in his broad shoulders was like a third person in the room.

"The board meeting is on Thursday," Julian said, his voice entirely flat as he took a slow sip.

"My mother has spent the last three months trying to arrange a merger between Sterling Enterprises and the Vance Corporation by marrying me off to Victor Vance’s niece. A simple date isn't going to stop her. A ring will."

"I don't have a ring, Julian! And I certainly don't have a script!" I crossed my arms, the silk of the gown I was supposed to return to Phy at the end of the night whispering against itself.

"Yesterday you were just paying me to audit a subsidiary's ledger off-site. Now you want me to pretend I'm in love with a man who looks at people like they're inventory?"

My brows pulled together, my voice sounded incredulous. The idea of people believing Julian would actually be in love was as convincing as telling me a stranger I was friends with a forest lion and that lion happened to be in love with a zebra.

Julian set his glass down with a sharp clack. He turned around, walking toward me with a slow, predatory grace that made my breath catch.

I forgot how intimidating he could be.Shit, I let the coconut and pineapples fool me again.

He stopped just inches away, towering over me, his grey eyes burning with an intense, unreadable fire.

"I don't need you to be in love with me, Elena," he said quietly —making a muscle around my heart twist unpleasantly, his gaze dropping to my lips for a second before snapping back to my eyes.

"I need you to look at me like I hung the stars, and I need you to convince my mother that you are completely untouchable."

He pauses for a long moment, staring into my eyes until he finds what he's looking for.

"Good, that will do."

My heart sags.

" You must be having a lot of fun toying with me."

I seethe,angry because I feel like I let out a secret I wasn't aware of.Julian says nothing in response.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. He flipped it open with his thumb.

Inside sat a diamond ring, catching the overhead lights and throwing brilliant yellow sparks across the room

If I had to guessI'd say it was a three-carat canary. With all the gossiping you overhear in the ladies room during these kinds of event, I can confidently say I am an expert in Jewelry now. It looked heavy enough to weigh down my entire hand.

Maybe I could even get a job at Dior at entry level.

"What about my father's estate?" I asked, my voice dropping to a fragile whisper.

The foreclosure notice was sitting on my kitchen counter back home, stamped with a final deadline of 8:00 AM the following morning.

Julian stared down at me, his expression softening just enough to reveal the exhaustion etched into the corners of his eyes.

"The moment you say yes," Julian said, lifting the ring from its velvet bed, "my legal team clears every cent of debt your father owes. The house stays yours. Permanently."

He took my left hand in his. His fingers were warm, calloused at the edges, and entirely steady.

"And if I say no?" I whispered.

"Then you walk out that door right now," Julian said softly, his thumb brushing over my knuckle, sending a shiver straight down my spine, "and by tomorrow afternoon, your family home belongs to a bank that won't even leave you the memories."

He slid the ring onto my finger. It fit with terrifying perfection.

"Welcome to the family, Elena," he murmured.