CONTRACT MARRIAGE WITH THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE CEO

Episode 2

The word echoed in my head as I stood in the middle of Alexander Cole's Mansion

"Don't fall inlove with me"

like I could help it

The house was too quiet. Too big .Too perfect, whit marble floors reflected the chandelier above me , the air smelled like expensive cologne and lemon polish . My one small suitcase looked pathetic next to the grand staircase

"Mrs .Cole"

I jumped , a woman in a black uniform stood there , about 50 with sharp eyes that scanned me from my navy dress to my scuffed heels.

"I'm Sarah . I run the house . Dinner is at 8 and Mr Cole will be home at 9 . Your room is upstairs the third door on the right.

"Thank you" I managed to say my voice sounded small . She nodded once and walked away

Upstairs my room was bigger than my the entire studio in Brooklyn, king size bed , white sheets . A view of Manhattan skyline that I was sure cost more than my mom's hospital bills for a year .

I sank on the bed , it didn't even make a sound then my phone buzzed

"Mount Sinai Hospital Billing: Reminder

Balance due $180,000

3 days

I closed my eyes . This was business, Just business so why did my chest feel tight? . The front door slammed at exactly 9:30 PM . I was in the kitchen trying not to burn the pasta , I have never cooked in a kitchen this big , everything was stainless steel and silent

Alexander waled in still in his black Tom ford suit from this morning , tie loose sleeves rolled up . He smelled like whiskey , board meetings and something expensive I couldn't name .He stopped when he saw me , his eyes flicked to the pot , then to me and to the small burn mark on my hand I was hiding

"You're still here " , he said ,Flat , like he was disappointed

"Where else would I be ?" I said and immediately regretted how sassy it sounded . "You own me for a year remember ?" .

He dropped his key on the marble counter . The sound was loud

I won your name not you Emma

He stepped closer , close enough that I could see the faint stubble on his jaw , close enough that I forgot how to breathe

"Rule 1: Don't touch me "

"Rule 2: Don't fall inlove"

"Rule 3: Don't ask questions "

l lifted my chin , Sassy was all I had left

What if I do all three? I asked

For one second something flickered in his cold eyes . Was it Anget? , Amusement? I couldn't tell

His jaw ticked

" Then this contract ends .And you get nothing .He walked past me up the stairs and didn't look back

*Scene 2: First Night As "Wife"*

That night I slept in a bed made for two people and woke up alone at 3AM from a nightmare.

Mom. In the hospital bed at Mount Sinai. Machines beeping. Me signing papers I couldn’t afford.

I was crying before I realized it. Quiet, ugly crying into a pillow that probably cost more than my tuition.

The door opened.

Alexander stood there in gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. No suit. No mask. He looked... younger. Tired.

"Are you okay?" His voice was rough, like he hadn’t used it in hours.

I wiped my face fast. "I’m fine. Go away."

He didn’t. He just stood there for 10 seconds that felt like 10 years.

Then he said, barely above a whisper: "Get some sleep, Mrs. Cole."

And he closed the door.

The next morning was worse.

We were leaving for a "business breakfast" at The Plaza when the cameras hit us.

_Flash. Flash. Flash._

"Mr. Cole! Is this your new wife?"

"Who is she?"

Alexander's hand was on my lower back. Possessive. Fake.

But his grip was tight. Too tight.

By the time we got to the Bentley, his phone was blowing up.

He turned to me. And the cold was back. Colder than yesterday.

*Scene 3: The Dinner Disaster*

The Cole penthouse dining room could fit my entire neighborhood.

A 20-seater table. Crystal glasses. Candles that probably cost more than my monthly takeout budget.

And me, in the middle of it, wearing a dress Mrs. Sarah picked for me. Navy. Sleeveless. Too elegant for someone who eats takeout 4 times a week.

"They’ll be here in 10 minutes," Alexander said, loosening his cufflinks. He wasn’t looking at me. "The Whitaker Group. 500 Million dollar deal. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Smile. Nod. Be a wife."

"A prop," I corrected. "You mean be a prop."

His eyes snapped to mine. "Is there a problem, _Mrs. Cole_?"

I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him I had a degree from NYU and a brain and I wasn’t just a body to sit next to him. But the $20 Million reminder in my phone stopped me.

"No problem," I said instead. Sweet. Deadly sweet. "I’m the best wife money can buy."

The doorbell rang.

First in was Mr. Whitaker. 60s. Expensive Rolex. Wife on his arm in Chanel who looked at me like I was dirt on her Louboutins.

Then his son, Chase. 30. Smirk. Eyes that undressed me in 2 seconds.

And finally, his lawyer. Clipboard. Bored face.

"Alex!" Mr. Whitaker boomed, pulling Alexander into a back-slap hug. "And this must be the mysterious wife! Why didn’t you tell us you got married?"

Alexander’s hand found the small of my back. Warm. Possessive. Fake.

"Emma," he said. "Emma Cole. We kept it private."

I smiled. "Hello. It’s nice to meet you."

My voice didn’t shake. I was proud of that.

Dinner started. And that’s when it went to hell.

Chase wouldn’t stop talking to me.

"So Emma, what do you do?"

"I’m a wife," I said. "Full time."

He laughed. "A trophy wife? Lucky Alex."

I took a sip of sparkling water. "Not a trophy. A partner. There’s a difference. Trophies sit on shelves. Partners close deals."

The table went quiet.

Alexander choked on his Cabernet.

Mrs. Whitaker pursed her lips. "That’s... bold."

"Is it?" I said, tilting my head. "Because from where I’m sitting, this deal won’t close if your son keeps checking his stocks under the table. The investors in Tokyo want answers by 9AM EST. Not TikTok."

Chase’s face went red.

Mr. Whitaker slowly put his phone down.

Alexander didn’t say anything. But under the table, his hand brushed mine.

Not holding. Just... a touch.

My whole body froze. Goosebumps.

The rest of dinner was tense. Small talk about the Hamptons and the new gallery in SoHo. But when they left, Mr. Whitaker shook Alexander’s hand and said, "She’s got fire. I like her. Send me the contract tomorrow. Tell your assistant to email her."

The door closed. Silence. Just the sound of the Manhattan traffic 40 floors below.

Then Alexander turned to me.

"You almost ruined a 500 Million deal."

"Almost?" I said, heart pounding. "Or did I just save it?"

He stared at me. Long. Hard. Like he was seeing me for the first time. Not Emma the contract. Emma the problem.

He walked upstairs without another word.

I stood in the empty dining room, candles still burning, and pressed my hand where he’d touched me.

Rule 1: Don’t touch me.

Too late.