Chapter 2: A Deal With The Devil II

Jasmine sat on the edge of her tiny apartment’s worn couch, her laptop perched on the coffee table. The email from Chad’s assistant had arrived an hour ago, the attachment glowing ominously on the screen like a trap. It still felt like a dream to her.

She scrolled through the document, her heart sinking with every clause. The terms were laid out in painstaking detail: the conditions of her role, the timeline, and the stipulations on her conduct.

Her mother’s treatment was prominently listed under “benefits,” as though it were a corporate perk. Immediate care, all expenses covered, and access to the country’s top specialists.

She hesitated, Mr. Chad Blackstone isn't someone you can easily mess with, and she wasn't willing to subject her life to misery. Yes, she's sure that acting as Mr Blackstone's fiancee was going to be misery.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her focus. She grabbed it quickly, her chest tightening when she saw the hospital’s number.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Wither,” a nurse’s voice greeted her. “Your mother’s condition is stable, but we need to discuss the next phase of her treatment. The current plan won’t suffice long-term, and the costs—”

“I understand,” Jasmine interrupted, her throat tightening. “I’m... I’m working on it.”

The nurse hesitated before continuing. “We’ll need an answer by the end of the week. Time is critical.”

Jasmine ended the call, her hands trembling. Time was critical. Chad’s words echoed in her mind.

“I’ll make the arrangements,” He had said. “The best doctors, private care, no expense spared. The paperwork will be sent to you tonight, outlining everything, including the timeline. You’ll sign it, and my team will handle the rest.”

Fine, Chad Blackstone. You win.

With a deep breath, she opened the document again, and with one last glance, she signed.

Meanwhile

Chad sat in his penthouse office, the city lights stretching endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. A tumbler of whiskey rested in his hand, the amber liquid swirling lazily as he stared at the skyline.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. A single message from his assistant: She’s in.

A satisfied smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He downed the rest of the whiskey in one smooth motion, setting the glass down with a soft clink.

****

Jasmine sat at the small round table in her apartment, the business card still clutched in her hand. The elegant lettering read, Chadwick Blackstone, CEO of Blackstone Enterprises. A name so powerful it sent ripples through the city’s elite. She stared at it, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She had just signed a deal with the devil himself.

The offer was clear. Pretend to be his fiancée, and in return, her mother would receive the best medical care money could buy. No strings attached, he had said. But Jasmine knew better. Nothing in this world came without strings. Especially not when Chad Blackstone was involved.

Her phone buzzed against the wooden table, jolting her from her thoughts. She reached for it, her fingers trembling slightly.

“Hello?”

“Miss Wither, this is Chad Blackstone,” the voice on the other end was smooth and detached as if they were strangers discussing a business transaction instead of the strange proposition he’d made hours ago.

“I see you have signed the documents”. His cold voice rang out.

Jasmine straightened in her chair, clutching the phone tighter. “Mr. Blackstone,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her stomach.

“Good. I wasn’t sure if you’d answer,” he said. “I need you to meet me tomorrow at 10 a.m. sharp at my office. The details of the arrangement need to be finalized.”

Jasmine opened her mouth to argue but stopped.

This deal was her way out of the financial hole they were in.

“I’ll be there,” she said reluctantly, her voice quieter now.

“Good. Don’t be late. I love to keep to time” With that, the line went dead.

Jasmine stared at her phone, an uneasy feeling settling over her. Chad Blackstone was not the kind of man who left anything to chance.

The next morning, Jasmine found herself standing outside the gleaming glass tower that housed Blackstone Enterprises. She took a deep breath, her reflection staring back at her from the spotless windows. She’d chosen her best outfit—black slacks and a fitted white blouse—but still felt out of place among the suited professionals streaming into the building.

Inside, the lobby was as grand as she’d expected. Marble floors stretched out in every direction, and a massive crystal chandelier hung above her, casting glittering patterns onto the walls.

“Miss Wither?”

Jasmine turned to see a tall man in a sleek gray suit approaching her. His expression was neutral, but his eyes held a sharpness that reminded her of Chad.

“Yes,” she said hesitantly.

“I’m Mr. Blackstone’s assistant, Peter. Follow me,” he said without waiting for her response.

Peter led her to the elevator and up to the top floor. The ride was silent, the hum of the elevator the only sound between them. When the doors opened, Jasmine was greeted by the sight of an opulent office space. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline, and a massive desk sat at the far end, flanked by dark leather chairs.

Chad stood by the window, his hands in his pockets as he stared out over the city. At the sound of their approach, he turned, his gray eyes locking onto Jasmine.

“Miss Wither,” he said, his tone devoid of warmth. “You’re on time. I appreciate that.”

Jasmine nodded, her palms sweaty despite the cool air conditioning. “I wanted to hear the full terms of this... arrangement.”

“Good,” Chad said, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Sit.”

She obeyed, sitting stiffly as Chad took the chair opposite her. He rested his elbows on the desk, his gaze piercing.

“This will be simple,” he began. “You’ll attend events with me, act the part of my fiancée, and follow my lead. In public, we’ll be inseparable. In private, our lives remain our own. Do you understand?”

Jasmine frowned, her hands clenched in her lap. “And how long does this... charade last?”

“Six months,” Chad replied without hesitation.

Jasmine stared at him, at the envelope in her hand, at the deal that lay before her. She had nothing to lose.

“I’ll do it,” she said, her voice steady, though the storm inside her was anything but calm. But one thing is non-negotiable Mr Blackstone–my mother gets the best treatment immediately, not in six months or as some afterthought. Now.”

Chad’s icy gray eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression betrayed no surprise. If anything, there was a flicker of something resembling approval.

“You drive a hard bargain,” he said, his voice low and measured. “But I expected that.”

She folded her arms across her chest, standing her ground. “This isn’t a bargain. It’s my mother’s life and that's the only reason I'm agreeing to this madness in the first place.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying her as though weighing her resolve. “Deal”.

As they finalized every necessary arrangement, The air between them thickened. Jasmine asked the question that had been weighing down on her mind since the day he walked into the restaurant with this proposition. “Why me? You could hire someone with acting experience, someone who’s actually used to this sort of thing.”

Chad’s smile widened, though it still didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t want an actress. I want someone… Someone they wouldn’t suspect.”

“They?” Jasmine asked sharply, unease settling down her stomach.

Chad straightened his tie and rose from his seat, looking down at her with a gaze that seemed to pierce through her. “You’ll find out soon enough.” With that, he walked over to the window, turning his back to her, signaling the end of the meeting. “Peter will provide you with the necessary documents to sign. After that, we begin immediately.”

Jasmine’s fists clenched beneath the table. This was no ordinary arrangement, and Chad Blackstone was no ordinary man. But what choice did she have?

Jasmine rose to her feet, her legs feeling shaky. “And what exactly does ‘immediately’ mean?”

“There’s a gala tonight,” Chad said, his tone final. “You’ll be coming with me. Don’t disappoint me.”

With that, he turned back to the window, dismissing her without another word.

Jasmine clenched her fists, frustration bubbling within her. She had just sold herself into a six-month engagement with a man who clearly valued control above all else.

As she left the office, her mind raced with questions and doubts. But one thing was clear—Chad Blackstone was not a man to be underestimated.

And she had just stepped into his world.