His Reluctant Bride

Zariah Monroe tightened her grip on the thin stack of rejection letters in her hands. The crisp white pages trembled slightly as she exhaled, frustration tightening around her chest like a noose. She had spent the last three months knocking on doors, chasing down investors, and swallowing her pride—only to hear the same soul-crushing words over and over again: “We’re sorry, but we can’t take that risk.” Risk. That was what they called her now—a bad investment. It didn’t matter that she had inherited one of the most prestigious fashion labels in the country from her father. It didn’t matter that Monroe Designs had once graced the covers of elite magazines or that celebrities had fought over their custom-made pieces. No. All that mattered was that her father’s gambling addiction had left her with nothing but debt—a crumbling empire and a reputation so tainted that no bank, no investor, and no so-called business partner wanted anything to do with her. “Miss Monroe?” Zariah blinked and looked up, startled by the deep voice cutting through the thick air of the high-rise office lobby. Standing before her was a man she had only seen in business magazines, on television, and—if she was being completely honest—in her worst nightmares. Caden Lancaster. Billionaire investor. Corporate shark. Kingmaker. And the man responsible for rejecting her proposal three days ago. Dressed in a tailored black suit, with the crispness of his white dress shirt emphasizing his impossibly broad shoulders, Caden was the embodiment of power and ruthlessness. His steel-gray eyes studied her with an intensity that sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. “What do you want, Mr. Lancaster?” Zariah asked, forcing her voice to remain steady. She refused to let him see how much she had been shaken by his rejection. He tilted his head slightly as if assessing her. “Get in the car.” She blinked. “Excuse me?” His lips twitched into something that almost resembled amusement. Almost. “I have a business proposal for you. And before you refuse, you might want to hear what I have to say.” Zariah narrowed her eyes. Every fiber of her being told her to walk away. To stay as far away from Caden Lancaster as possible. But then she thought about the eviction notices piling up at her apartment. The employees she had been forced to lay off. The designers who had turned their backs on Monroe Designs. She had no choice. Squaring her shoulders, she nodded and followed him out of the lobby. The black Rolls-Royce glided smoothly through the city, the interior so silent that Zariah could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Caden sat across from her, one leg casually crossed over the other, his arm draped lazily over the leather seat. Despite his relaxed posture, there was an undeniable dominance in the way he held himself. “I assume you’re still in need of funding,” he said, breaking the silence. Zariah’s jaw clenched. “I don’t need a reminder of my financial situation.” “Then I’ll get to the point.” He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers. “I need a wife.” She stared at him. Then she laughed. A sharp, humorless sound that echoed in the confined space of the car. “You’re joking.” His expression remained impassive. “I don’t joke about business.” Zariah swallowed, her amusement quickly fading. “Why me?” “Because you need something from me, and I need something from you,” he replied smoothly. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.” A cold sensation crawled down her spine. “You’re talking about a contract marriage.” “Yes.” Zariah shook her head. “You could have any woman in the city. Hell, women throw themselves at you. Why do you need to marry someone like me?” His lips twitched again, this time in mild amusement. “I don’t trust women who are eager to marry me.” Her stomach twisted. “And what exactly do you gain from this?” “My grandfather’s will stipulates that I must be married by my thirtieth birthday to secure my inheritance,” he said bluntly. “I have no interest in love, and I don’t have time for pointless relationships. I need a wife in name only.” Zariah stared at him, stunned. “So I’d just be… what? Your accessory?” “You’d be my business partner,” he corrected. “You’ll receive the funding necessary to restore Monroe Designs. In return, you’ll play the role of my devoted wife for a year.” A year. Zariah could rebuild everything in a year. She could restore her father’s legacy, secure her future, and walk away free. But there was a catch. There was always a catch. “What are your conditions?” she asked cautiously. Caden leaned back, studying her with those piercing gray eyes. “There are three rules.” She swallowed hard. “Let’s hear them.” “One. No emotional attachments. This is a business transaction—nothing more, nothing less.” Her chest tightened, but she nodded. “Fair enough.” “Two. You will attend every public event with me, and you will play the role convincingly. That includes appearances, interviews, and, when necessary, physical affection.” Zariah’s pulse spiked. “You mean…” “Yes. Kissing, hand-holding, whatever is required to maintain appearances.” Her throat felt dry. This was insanity. “And the third rule?” she asked, barely above a whisper. Caden’s expression hardened. “You never fall in love with me.” Zariah let out a bitter laugh. “Trust me, Mr. Lancaster, that won’t be a problem.” His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Then we have a deal?” She hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then, with her heart pounding so loudly she could barely hear her thoughts, Zariah Monroe reached out and shook the devil’s hand. And just like that, she sold her soul to the most ruthless billionaire in the city.