Chapter 1

Natalie Waesmer sat in her dimly lit apartment, the silence interrupted only by the soft hum of the refrigerator and muffled music from the party three doors to her room's left. Her fingers mindlessly traced the rim of her cup, the coffee inside long gone cold. She glanced at the clock. 2:17 AM. Sleep seemed almost nonexistent lately, her mind unable to escape the constant fear and anxiety brought on by her ex, Vesper Stout, the owner of the bar she frequented and whom she thought was a good man. Natalie buried her face in her hands as she frowned at the gradual decline of her life solely because she loved a man. Or thought so, at least.

A sudden, sharp knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts and back to reality. Her heart raced as she approached the door, her mind preparing her for the worst there is, hesitating for a moment before looking through the peephole. Will it be another argument, another call for help, another need to move? Relief washed over her when she saw Lars Laurent's face instead, standing there with his broad frame and familiar face in contrast to the hell she's been enduring. She quickly unlocked the door and let him in. “Lars,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Thank you for coming, even though it's so late,” she added. Lars stepped inside, his presence filling the small space.

He looked around the apartment, his eyes lingering on the sparse furnishings and the general air of neglect there seems to be overwhelmingly present. “Don’t worry much about it,” he replied, his tone controlled, almost impassive. “You sounded quite…. concerning on the phone.” Natalie nodded as she briefly glanced to both hallways before closing the door behind him. She led him to the small living room, where they both sat down.

Lars's expensive cologne filled the air, yet another reminder of the vast difference in their worlds, if not this very situation. His tailored suit and polished appearance were a very apparent difference from her worn-out shorts and oversized sweater.

“I can't take it anymore, Lars,” she confessed, her voice trembling.

“Vesper—He won't leave me alone. He follows me everywhere I go. I’ve changed my number and moved apartments so many times, but nothing…” she trailed off for a moment. “Nothing works. And I'm scared.”

Natalie stared at Lars, and his expression remained somewhat impenetrable, pokered in a way that she didn't know if he was mad, upset, or whatever was going on in his mind. She almost felt like there was a wall between them, and he couldn't see the desperation in her behavior. But slowly, she noticed a subtle change in his eyes and the tightening of his jaw.

“Has he hurt you?” he asked, a protective edge in his voice almost easily unnoticed. “Not physically, no,” she replied, shaking her head. Lars leaned back, tilting his head as he propped his head with his hand, his eyes narrowing as he considered the situation. “We need to do something—something that will make it clear to him that he has to go.” Natalie looked at him, hope flickering in her eyes mixed with hesitation. “Yes, but what?”

He paused for a moment, then leaned forward, his gaze intense but cold. “We get married.” Natalie's eyes widened in shock. “Married? Lars, that's... that's crazy.”

“I know. But I’m sure it’ll get the message across,” Lars countered, his tone firm. “It’ll be just a front. And it’ll make it clear to him that you have someone already, and a powerful one at that. Someone Vesper won't dare to cross.”

Natalie shook her head, struggling to process the idea.

“But, Lars, you're a billionaire. Don’t you have, like, a reputation to take care of? I don't think this is necessary.” Lars reached out and took her hand, his touch steady and reassuring. “Natalie, let me worry about that. But as someone I've known since my childhood, I can't stand by and watch you suffer.”

Lar's gaze never left Natalie for a second, his grip tight but warming. She was speechless for a moment, her head racing as she weighed out her options. Was this the only solution left for her? Tears slowly welled up in Natalie's eyes. She had never felt so helpless or so vulnerable. She hated the feeling of pity, but in such a situation, was there something else she could use to go against it? This was a rare glimmer of hope for her, a lifeline she didn't even know she desperately needed until it was there.

“I don't know what to say,” she managed to utter, her gaze falling to the ground.

“Say yes,” Lars urged gently, his voice unwavering. “Agree to it then we'll draw up a contract and make it as seamless as possible. Then move in with me to my estate. Vesper won't be able to come near you.”

Natalie took a deep breath. The idea of marriage and marrying someone, especially Lars Laurent, seemed too much for her, drowning in quite a sense she couldn't explain. He was someone who people would bend down for, an elite whom she could never be on shoulders with. Had it not been for their past, their childhood friendship, there would have been no way for her to be friends with him as adults, let alone know him enough to have him as contact or someone she could just reach out to. There was so much to consider, so much to think hard about—some of it could be grueling once this was done, but the thought of continuing to live in fear was far too unbearable. She squeezed his hand, nodding slowly.

“Okay,” she finally agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I'll do it.”

Lars' lips gave a subtle smile; his eyes were detached from the emotion his lips were trying to convey. “Good. We'll get the paperwork sorted out tomorrow. For now, start packing your things. I'll have my driver come by to help you move.” Natalie nodded, her emotions in complete chaos, all over the place, all trying to claw out of her all at once. She fidgeted with a loose string hanging below her sweater, trying to put her thoughts at ease.

“I'll see you later. Let me know if there's anything else you need.” Lars nodded at her and rose to leave, his walk paced in no hurry.

She followed him to the door and stood by the threshold. “Thank you, Lars,” she said softly. “I don't know what I would do without you.”

He turned to her, his expression still stern. “Don't thank me. At least, not yet. I'm just glad I can help.”

Lars disappeared into a corner of the hallway, his shadow following him. Something in her almost wanted to cry right then and there—just let out all the heaviness in her that she's suppressed for years. She should've told him so much earlier, and maybe she wouldn't have had to endure it for such a long time. Natalie swallowed hard as she closed the door, leaning against it. This was the beginning of the end.