03

Lena POV

The car ride was suffocatingly silent.

I clutched my phone, Ethan’s message burning a hole through the screen. My mind was an absolute mess.

A few hours ago, I’d been planning a romantic Easter proposal and a Maldives getaway. Now, I was fake-engaged to Ares Kincaid, Ethan’s boss, and sitting in the back of his luxurious car like some kind of twisted Cinderella.

Ares sat beside me, one leg crossed over the other, exuding effortless control. He glanced at my phone. "You’re not going to reply?"

I stiffened. "Why do you care?"

He smirked. "I don’t. Just curious how you plan to handle your ex."

I stared at Ethan’s message again. We need to talk. Now.

I could almost hear his voice. Demanding. Arrogant. Like he still had the right to my time.

Disgustingly Pathetic.

I locked my phone and tossed it into my purse. "He can wait."

Ares looked amused. "Good girl."

Something about the way he said it sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine. I turned toward him, arms crossed. "Where are we even going?"

He leaned back lazily. "My place."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

I scowled. "Why on earth would I go to your place?"

"Because, sweetheart," he drawled, "we need to discuss how we’re going to make this arrangement believable."

I hesitated. He had a point. If we were going to fool the world, we needed a game plan.

Still… "Can’t we do that over coffee? In a public place?"

His smirk deepened. "Are you scared to be alone with me?"

I lifted my chin. "No."

"Liar."

I narrowed my eyes. "I just don’t trust you."

"Smart girl." He let the words settle before adding, "But trust isn’t necessary. Just obedience."

I gaped at him. "Excuse me?"

His gaze darkened slightly. "This arrangement will only work if you listen to me. No impulsive decisions, no acting out. If we do this, we do it my way."

I bristled. "And what exactly is your way?"

Ares smiled like he knew something I didn’t. "You’ll find out soon enough."

Before I could argue, the car slowed. I turned to the window, and my jaw nearly dropped.

The building in front of us wasn’t just an apartment, it was an architectural masterpiece. A sleek, glass-covered skyscraper with private security at the entrance.

"You live here?" I asked, still trying to process it.

Ares gave me a knowing look. "Did you think I lived in a shoebox?"

I ignored his sarcasm. "No, but—" I gestured to the sheer luxury of the place. "This is… excessive."

He didn’t respond. Instead, he stepped out of the car and held the door open for me.

I hesitated for half a second before following him.

Inside, the lobby was all marble and crystal chandeliers, the kind of place where even the air smelled expensive. The security guards nodded respectfully at Ares as we entered.

He didn’t stop at the reception desk. Of course, he didn’t need to. Instead, he led me to a private elevator and scanned his fingerprint. The doors slid open silently.

I folded my arms. "Do you take all your fake fiancées home this fast?"

He chuckled. "Only the special ones."

Before I could snap back, the elevator doors closed, and we began to ascend.

I watched the numbers climb. "So, tell me, why exactly do you need a fake fiancée?"

His expression remained unreadable. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, actually. If I’m going to be dragged into this, I deserve to know what I’m signing up for."

His gaze flickered toward me, assessing. "Fine. My grandfather is retiring soon. He’s planning to name his successor."

I frowned. "And you need a fiancée… why?"

His jaw tightened slightly. "He believes a man isn’t ready to lead unless he has a stable personal life."

Realization hit me. "So, this is about inheritance?"

"More than that," Ares said. "It’s about control. He wants someone who represents family values. Someone grounded."

I scoffed. "And you picked me?"

"You proposed, sweetheart," he reminded me.

I groaned. "You could’ve just said no."

He smirked. "Where’s the fun in that?"

Before I could argue, the elevator doors opened, revealing a penthouse so extravagant it made my head spin.

The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The furniture was rich, modern, and undoubtedly worth more than my entire bank account. Everything about this place screamed power, control, and… loneliness.

I turned to Ares. "You live here alone?"

He nodded. "Why?"

I shrugged. "Just seems… empty."

He tilted his head slightly, as if my observation amused him. "Empty is better than messy."

Something about the way he said it made me think he wasn’t just talking about his penthouse.

I sat on the edge of the pristine white couch, feeling wildly out of place. "So… what now?"

"Now," Ares said, loosening his tie, "we set the rules."

I arched a brow. "Rules?"

His gaze was unwavering. "Rule number one: Publicly, we act like a real couple. No hesitation, no awkwardness. If I touch you, you don’t flinch. If I kiss you, you kiss me back."

My breath hitched. "Kiss?"

His lips curled slightly. "Would be odd if an engaged couple never kissed, don’t you think?"

I swallowed. "Right."

"Rule number two," he continued. "No one—no one—can know this is fake."

I nodded slowly. "And rule number three?"

His smirk faded. "You listen to me. Always."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, that’s not happening."

He leaned forward, his presence overwhelming. "This isn’t a game, sweetheart. If you screw this up, it won’t just be your reputation on the line—it’ll be mine. And I do not tolerate failure."

I held his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "Then maybe you should’ve picked someone else."

He studied me for a long moment before chuckling. "You’ve got fire. I like that."

I didn’t respond. I was too busy trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened when he looked at me like that.

Before I could say anything else, my phone buzzed again.

Another message from Ethan.

I know where you are. Open the damn door.

My stomach twisted. I looked up at Ares. "He’s here."

Ares exhaled slowly, as if this was mildly inconvenient rather than completely insane. "Perfect timing."

I shot up from the couch. "What do we do?"

Ares stood as well, adjusting his sleeves. "Simple. We let him in."

I gawked at him. "Are you insane?!"

His smirk was dangerous. "Let’s show your ex exactly what he lost."

Before I could argue, he strode to the door and pulled it open.

Ethan stood there, his expression stormy, his eyes bouncing between me and Ares.

"You," he spat, glaring at me. "What the hell are you playing at?"

Ares remained cool, unbothered. "Nice to see you, Ethan."

Ethan gazed at me, his jaw clenched. "We need to talk. Alone."

I hesitated.

Before I could respond, Ares slid a possessive arm around my waist, pulling me close. His voice was smooth, laced with something almost unnatural.

"Anything you have to say," he murmured, "you can say in front of my fiancée."