002

Lena POV

I barely had time to process what I’d done.

One moment, I was shoving an engagement ring onto a stranger’s finger in a fit of rage, and the next, I was linking arms with him, walking away as if I hadn’t just ruined my own life in the span of five minutes.

The crowd still buzzed behind us, whispering about the crazy girl who proposed to a billionaire on the street. My face burned, but I kept my head high, pretending this was all part of my master plan.

It wasn’t. It was a disaster. I stole a glance at him as we walked.

He was tall, at least a foot taller than me in my heels. His black suit was tailored to perfection, crisp and expensive, like he’d stepped out of a luxury magazine. His dark hair was styled with a precision that suggested he had no patience for imperfections. And his face? Unfairly gorgeous. Sharp jaw, piercing eyes, and an air of authority that made people step out of his way without him even trying.

Who the hell had I just fake-engaged myself to?

"You can let go now," he murmured.

I realized I was still clinging to his arm. I let go immediately, taking a step back. "Right. Sorry. That was—uh—"

"Unexpected?" he offered, one brow arched.

"Stupid," I corrected. "Very, very stupid."

His lips twitched, amusement flashing in his dark eyes. "I agree."

I crossed my arms. "Listen, about the whole—" I gestured vaguely toward his hand, where my engagement ring still sat perfectly on his finger. "That was just a mistake. I was angry, and I wasn’t thinking straight."

He looked down at the ring, turning it slightly as if admiring how it fit. "A mistake?"

"Yes," I said quickly. "A huge, ridiculous, irrational mistake."

"Hmm." He studied me for a long moment, then said, "Interesting."

I narrowed my eyes. "What’s interesting?"

His gaze didn’t waver. "You put an engagement ring on my finger in front of an audience. You called me your fiancé. And now you expect to walk away like nothing happened?"

I swallowed. "Well… yes?"

His smirk was infuriatingly slow, calculated. "That’s not how the world works, sweetheart."

Something about the way he said sweetheart sent an uninvited shiver down my spine.

I put my hands on my hips. "Fine. Then let’s just—return the ring and forget this ever happened."

He held up his hand, flexing his fingers as if testing the weight of it. "I think I’ll keep it."

I gaped at him. "What?"

"It’s a nice ring."

My brain short-circuited. "Excuse me? That ring was meant for—" I cut myself off, not wanting to say Ethan’s name.

His smirk deepened. "Your cheating ex?"

I flinched. "How do you—?"

"I put two and two together." He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "The anger, the ring, the way Ethan looked like he’d swallowed a grenade when he saw us." He tilted his head. "I take it you were planning to propose to him?"

I let out a breath. "It doesn’t matter now."

His eyes darkened slightly. "No, it doesn’t."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Look, I appreciate you playing along back there, but we should really just go our separate ways."

A slow smile tugged at his lips. "And what if I say no?"

I frowned. "Why would you say no?"

"Because," he said simply, "I think we can help each other."

I blinked. "Help each other?"

He slipped his hands into his pockets, exuding effortless confidence. "You need to get back at your ex. I need something from you. Seems like a fair trade."

I stared at him, my mind spinning. "You’re suggesting… what? A fake engagement?"

"Smart."

I let out a disbelieving laugh. "That’s insane."

His didn't break his gaze. "Is it?"

"Yes!" I threw up my hands. "I don’t even know you!"

"You will," he said smoothly. "Starting now."

He pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, and then held it up to me.

My stomach dropped when I saw what was on the screen.

A news article.

Billionaire CEO Ares Kincaid Announces Engagement in Shocking Public Proposal!

And beneath it… a photo of me shoving the ring onto his finger like a lunatic.

I snatched the phone from his hand, scanning the article at lightning speed. "How—how did this even get published so fast?"

"Welcome to my world, sweetheart," he said, sounding far too amused. "Nothing stays quiet for long."

I gaped at him. "You’re Ares Kincaid?"

He nodded, unfazed. "And now, apparently, your fiancé."

I was going to be sick.

Ares Kincaid. Billionaire. CEO of Kincaid Enterprises. The man Ethan worked for. The man who could ruin my ex’s entire career with a snap of his fingers.

Oh. My. God.

I pressed a hand to my forehead. "This is not happening."

"It is," Ares said, reclaiming his phone. "And unless you want to make a public statement denying our engagement, I suggest we discuss terms."

"Terms?" I echoed weakly.

He nodded. "You want revenge. I need a fiancée."

"Why do you need a fiancée?"

His expression flickered—just for a second—but it was gone before I could read it. "Personal reasons."

I folded my arms. "That’s vague."

He smirked. "So is your decision to randomly propose to a stranger in the middle of the street."

I exhaled sharply. "How long would this… fake engagement last?"

"Long enough to serve both our purposes."

I chewed on my lip, my mind racing. This was insane. Completely reckless.

But the thought of Ethan seeing me on Ares Kincaid’s arm? Watching his boss—the man he’d worked under for years—claim me as his?

It was too delicious to ignore.

Ares watched me carefully. "What do you say, Honey?"

I looked at him. Really looked at him.

He was powerful, unreadable, dangerous. But beneath it all, there was something else. Something I couldn’t quite place.

I took a deep breath. "Fine."

Ares’s smirk widened. "That’s a good girl."

Heat flushed through me at his choice of words, but I ignored it. "What now?"

He took my hand, his grip firm and commanding. "Now, we make it official."

I barely had time to process that before he was leading me toward a sleek black car waiting at the curb.

And just as we got inside, my phone buzzed.

A text from Ethan. We need to talk. Now.

I stared at the screen, my heart hammering.

Ares glanced at me. "Something wrong?"

I hesitated, then turned the phone toward him.

He read the message, then met my gaze. His smirk was gone, replaced by something darker. Something almost… possessive, maybe it was all in my head.

"Good," he murmured and then he leaned in, his voice a low whisper against my ear.

"Let’s make him suffer."