"Are you coming or not?" Adrian’s voice pulled me back from the papers I was looking at on his desk, his tone sharp and expectant.
I blinked up at him, caught off guard. "Where are we going?" "Wait and see." He gave me a smirk, and without another word, walked out, leaving me scrambling to keep up. The nerve of him. I followed him to his car, where he slid into the back seat, barely acknowledging me as I joined him. "Are you seriously not going to tell me anything?" I asked, my voice dripping with frustration. “Patience, Mia.” He didn’t even look at me, just stared out the window, cool as ever. We pulled up in front of an upscale boutique. I glanced out the window and turned to him, bewildered. "A boutique? What, are you going shopping now?" Without a word, he opened his door, signaling me to get out. I followed, only because my curiosity was getting the better of me. Inside, the boutique was all marble floors, mirrors, and racks of designer dresses. The manager, a tall, elegant woman, approached us immediately. “Good afternoon, Mr. Knight,” she greeted him with a smile that was way too warm. Her eyes flicked over to me, sizing me up. “And this must be Mia. Come with me, dear.” “Come with you where?” I muttered, still trying to understand what was happening. I glanced back at Adrian, who nodded, urging me forward with an expression that said, Trust me—as if I had a choice. The woman led me to a private fitting room lined with rows of gowns. “Mr. Knight wanted you to try on a few dresses for a special occasion.” I was about to ask what “special occasion” meant, but she handed me a stunning ivory dress that made me pause. The fabric was soft, elegant, practically begging to be worn. “Go on, try it,” she urged. I slipped into the dress, feeling like I’d stepped into someone else’s life. When I stepped out, Adrian’s eyes flicked over me, and for a moment, he looked almost… pleased. Almost. “Looks good,” he said casually, as if we weren’t in the middle of some whirlwind, absurd adventure. “Good? That’s all you have to say?” I huffed, exasperated. “Mind telling me why I’m playing dress-up?” “We’re not done yet,” he replied. “Follow me.” We moved to another part of the boutique, where a display of rings glinted under the lights. My eyes went wide. “Rings? Adrian… are those wedding rings?” “Sharp as ever,” he quipped, lifting a simple, elegant ring and slipping it onto my finger before I could react. The diamond sparkled in the light, and I stared at it, speechless. “You’re really doing this without telling me anything, aren’t you?” I snapped, yanking my hand back and staring at him. “This isn’t normal, Adrian. People don’t just—” He cut me off with a calm look. “I thought you understood. No fuss, no delays. Now, are we doing this or not?” I opened my mouth to argue, but he’d already picked out his own ring and handed it to the attendant. It all felt like a dream—an infuriating, baffling dream I couldn’t wake up from. When we finally left the boutique, he turned to me again. “Next stop—the registry.” My jaw dropped. “The registry? Are you kidding? You’re really going to do this now? Today?” “Yes,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Today.” “But—” I stammered, still grappling with the pace of everything. “But this is… way too fast, Adrian. I can’t even—” “Do you want the arrangement or not?” He looked at me, his eyes cool but intense. “Because there’s no halfway here, Mia.” I closed my mouth, realizing any protest was pointless. This man had his mind made up. So, taking a deep breath, I got into the car and tried to steady my racing thoughts as the driver took us to the city registry. Inside, it felt like the world was moving in fast-forward. Papers, pens, signatures… and somehow, in minutes, we were officially married. I glanced down at the ring on my finger, still trying to believe it was real. As we walked back out, Adrian was already heading to the car. “Let’s go home,” he called over his shoulder. “Home?” I practically choked. “I didn’t pack. I didn’t even get to go back to my apartment! Adrian, I’m not ready for… any of this.” He stopped, turning to face me. “You won’t need anything from your apartment. I took care of it all.” “What do you mean you ‘took care of it’?” I stared at him, a strange mix of anger and disbelief boiling in me. “Exactly what I said.” He raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “Everything you need is at home. Now, are you coming or not?” I shook my head, completely thrown by his confidence, his total disregard for how overwhelming this all was. But once again, he’d won, and I got into the car, feeling more trapped than ever. When we pulled up at his—our—home, I had to admit, it was impressive. A luxury high-rise, the kind you only see in magazines. He led me to a private elevator that whisked us up to the penthouse, and I stepped out into a space that screamed wealth. Floor-to-ceiling windows, expensive decor, the whole nine yards. “This is… our place?” I asked, struggling to believe it. He gave a small nod, looking unfazed. “Your room’s down the hall.” He gestured for me to follow, and we walked into a bedroom that was practically the size of my entire old apartment. The walk-in closet alone left me speechless, fully stocked with clothes that I could tell cost more than I made in a year. I ran my hand over the racks of designer clothes, still trying to grasp that this was supposed to be my new life. Dresses, blouses, even shoes in my size—all neatly organized, waiting for me. The sheer luxury of it was staggering. "All this… it’s too much," I murmured, almost to myself, as I turned to Adrian, who was watching me with that same unreadable expression. “Get used to it,” he replied coolly. “Everything you need is here. You won’t need to go back to your old place.” "Right." I tried to keep my voice steady, but the whole situation felt surreal. This wasn’t just an upgrade; it was like I’d stepped into someone else’s life, someone who could actually belong in a place like this. And this was all because of… a contract marriage? Adrian’s voice broke into my thoughts. "Take a moment to settle in. I’ll be in my office if you need anything." I sank onto the edge of the bed, still dazed, as he turned to leave. “Oh, and one more thing,” he added, pausing at the doorway. “Our first public appearance as a couple is tomorrow. Be prepared.” My heart skipped a beat. "Wait, public appearance? Already?" He shrugged. "Yes. The sooner the world sees us together, the better. So get some rest, Mia. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day." And with that, he was gone, leaving me in the massive, beautifully decorated room that was supposed to be mine. I sat there for a moment, just taking it all in, trying to wrap my head around the fact that this was actually happening. Just yesterday, I was living my normal, predictable life, working my way up at the company, thinking maybe I’d end up with someone like Greg. Now, I was married to Adrian Knight, one of the wealthiest men in the city, and everything I knew felt like it had been flipped upside down. I lay back on the plush, oversized bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the past few hours. Was this even real? Or some bizarre dream I’d wake up from any moment? But as I glanced down at the diamond ring sparkling on my finger, reality hit hard. This was real. This was my life now. For better or worse."Are you awake?"A groggy voice inside my head was trying to argue with my dream. "Why am I seeing Adrian in my dreams it must be a nightmare"... I muttered, trying to drift back into whatever sleep was left, but the voice was persistent."Mia. Are you awake or not?"I groaned, my eyes fluttering open, and—oh, he was real. Standing right there in my room, looking down at me with a smirk that was just too self-assured for this early in the morning."Adrian? What are you doing in my room?" I snapped, pulling the sheets up. "I specifically said we’d sleep in different rooms.""And we did. I slept in the guest room," he replied smoothly, holding back a smile. “But I’m here now because we have work to do. I need you sharp and ready today.”“Sharp and—wait, ready for what?” I asked, my mind still foggy.Adrian pulled a small stack of flashcards from his coat pocket and handed them over. “Study these. It’s everything you need to know for the press conference.”I blinked, flipping through the
“Mia, do you have anything to say for yourself?” Mr. Warden’s voice cut through the silence, cold and disdainful.I swallowed, forcing myself to keep my voice steady. “I… I didn’t take any money. I don’t know where this is coming from.”Ms. Hawthorne’s eyes narrowed, her gaze sharp and calculating. “Really? Because that's exactly what a thief would say"“What? No!” I shot a glance around the room, looking for anyone who might back me up. My eyes landed on Adrian at the head of the table. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable.“Mr. Knight, you don’t believe this, do you?” I tried to keep my tone respectful. But the desperation slipped through.His gaze met mine, but there was no comfort in it, no reassurance. “This isn’t a good look, Mia.”The words hit me like a slap. I felt my heart sink, but I forced myself to keep my head up. “You know me. You know I wouldn’t… I didn’t do this.”Adrian’s silence was crushing. Lisa, who’d been a friend—or so I thought—leaned forward, an amuse
"I can't marry you, Adrian."The words come out sharper than I intended, echoing slightly in the quiet of the cafe. Adrian barely flinches; he just watches me, calm as ever, as if he expected this. I wait for some sort of reaction, but he only raises an eyebrow, giving me that same infuriating, unreadable look."Are you sure about that?" he asks, stirring his coffee leisurely. "Because from where I’m sitting, it’s a practical solution. You get to keep your job, and I get what I need."I shake my head, feeling my pulse quicken. "I’m sorry, but I can’t. I already have a boyfriend. And I don’t believe in marriage without… well, romance.""Does he know what’s going on here?" Adrian’s question is calm, and it catches me off guard."That’s… that’s beside the point."He shrugs. "Seems relevant to me. You don’t have to answer now. I’ll give you time to think about it.""No." I said, standing up. "My answer is no. And it’s final."He simply nods, as if this is the most predictable thing in the
"Are you awake?"A groggy voice inside my head was trying to argue with my dream. "Why am I seeing Adrian in my dreams it must be a nightmare"... I muttered, trying to drift back into whatever sleep was left, but the voice was persistent."Mia. Are you awake or not?"I groaned, my eyes fluttering open, and—oh, he was real. Standing right there in my room, looking down at me with a smirk that was just too self-assured for this early in the morning."Adrian? What are you doing in my room?" I snapped, pulling the sheets up. "I specifically said we’d sleep in different rooms.""And we did. I slept in the guest room," he replied smoothly, holding back a smile. “But I’m here now because we have work to do. I need you sharp and ready today.”“Sharp and—wait, ready for what?” I asked, my mind still foggy.Adrian pulled a small stack of flashcards from his coat pocket and handed them over. “Study these. It’s everything you need to know for the press conference.”I blinked, flipping through the
"Are you coming or not?" Adrian’s voice pulled me back from the papers I was looking at on his desk, his tone sharp and expectant.I blinked up at him, caught off guard. "Where are we going?""Wait and see." He gave me a smirk, and without another word, walked out, leaving me scrambling to keep up. The nerve of him. I followed him to his car, where he slid into the back seat, barely acknowledging me as I joined him."Are you seriously not going to tell me anything?" I asked, my voice dripping with frustration.“Patience, Mia.” He didn’t even look at me, just stared out the window, cool as ever.We pulled up in front of an upscale boutique. I glanced out the window and turned to him, bewildered. "A boutique? What, are you going shopping now?"Without a word, he opened his door, signaling me to get out. I followed, only because my curiosity was getting the better of me. Inside, the boutique was all marble floors, mirrors, and racks of designer dresses. The manager, a tall, elegant woman
"I can't marry you, Adrian."The words come out sharper than I intended, echoing slightly in the quiet of the cafe. Adrian barely flinches; he just watches me, calm as ever, as if he expected this. I wait for some sort of reaction, but he only raises an eyebrow, giving me that same infuriating, unreadable look."Are you sure about that?" he asks, stirring his coffee leisurely. "Because from where I’m sitting, it’s a practical solution. You get to keep your job, and I get what I need."I shake my head, feeling my pulse quicken. "I’m sorry, but I can’t. I already have a boyfriend. And I don’t believe in marriage without… well, romance.""Does he know what’s going on here?" Adrian’s question is calm, and it catches me off guard."That’s… that’s beside the point."He shrugs. "Seems relevant to me. You don’t have to answer now. I’ll give you time to think about it.""No." I said, standing up. "My answer is no. And it’s final."He simply nods, as if this is the most predictable thing in the
“Mia, do you have anything to say for yourself?” Mr. Warden’s voice cut through the silence, cold and disdainful.I swallowed, forcing myself to keep my voice steady. “I… I didn’t take any money. I don’t know where this is coming from.”Ms. Hawthorne’s eyes narrowed, her gaze sharp and calculating. “Really? Because that's exactly what a thief would say"“What? No!” I shot a glance around the room, looking for anyone who might back me up. My eyes landed on Adrian at the head of the table. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable.“Mr. Knight, you don’t believe this, do you?” I tried to keep my tone respectful. But the desperation slipped through.His gaze met mine, but there was no comfort in it, no reassurance. “This isn’t a good look, Mia.”The words hit me like a slap. I felt my heart sink, but I forced myself to keep my head up. “You know me. You know I wouldn’t… I didn’t do this.”Adrian’s silence was crushing. Lisa, who’d been a friend—or so I thought—leaned forward, an amuse