Chapter 2: THE Unexpected 

The subway screeched loudly through the dim station as Emily  clutched the icy steel pole next to her seat. The train rumbled beneath the city, each bump serving as a vivid reminder of the turbulent night she had just experienced.

She leaned her head back against the window, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels doing little to drown out the memory of her encounter with Liam Westbrook. The image of his sharp, assessing gaze lingered in her mind, refusing to fade despite her efforts to forget it.

Emily let out a long sigh. She couldn't afford distractions, especially not ones involving billionaire CEOs who wore their power like second skin. No, she needed to focus on survival—paying rent, keeping her job, and finding a way out of the endless cycle of exhaustion that defined her life.

Her phone buzzed in her coat pocket, dragging her back to reality. She pulled it out, squinting at the screen through tired eyes.

Becca: Still alive?

A small smile tugged at the corner of Emily's lips. Becca Lawson was one of  her close  friends and she understands  just how brutal Emily's job could be.

Emily: Barely. Long shift. Wine incident. Nightmare.

The reply came almost instantly.

Becca: Wine incident? Girl, spill.

Emily snorted softly. If only Becca knew how literal that was.

Before she could respond, the train lurched to a stop at her station. She pocketed her phone, pulling her coat tighter as she stepped onto the platform. The chill of the night air bit into her skin, but it was a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the subway.

Her apartment was only a few blocks away, a tiny one-bedroom in a run-down building that had seen better days. The elevator had been out of service for months, so Emily trudged up three flights of creaky stairs, each step echoing through the empty hallway.

By the time she reached her door, fatigue weighed heavily on her limbs. She fumbled with the key, pushing the door open to reveal a space that was equal parts cozy and chaotic. A worn couch sat against one wall, piled high with books and laundry. The small kitchenette was cluttered but clean, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air from the candle she’d lit earlier that morning.

Emily kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the couch, groaning softly as the cushions enveloped her.

Her thoughts drifted back to Liam Westbrook. She still couldn’t wrap her head around his calm reaction to the spill—or the way he’d looked at her as though seeing something no one else had ever bothered to notice.

Why do I even care? she scolded herself. He was just another rich guy passing through her life, leaving nothing but a mess in his wake.

But fate, as Emily was about to learn, had a strange way of making certain people cross paths again.

The following morning dawned gray and overcast. Emily groaned as sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, piercing her eyelids. Every muscle in her body protested as she dragged herself out of bed.

She had a rare day off, and she intended to spend it doing absolutely nothing.

Her phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand. With a groan, she picked it up, fully prepared to ignore whatever notification awaited her. But the caller ID made her pause.

Unknown Number.

Frowning, Emily hesitated before answering. “Hello?”

“Miss Monroe,” a deep, familiar voice greeted her.

Her breath caught in her throat. “Mr. Westbrook?”

“Glad you remember,” he said smoothly. “I’d like to meet with you.”

Emily blinked, convinced she was still dreaming. “Why?”

“There’s a business proposition I’d like to discuss.”

Business proposition? What could Liam Westbrook possibly want with a waitress who had ruined his evening?

“I think you have the wrong person,” she said carefully.

“I don’t make mistakes, Miss Monroe,” Liam replied, a hint of amusement coloring his tone. “You have ten minutes to get dressed. My driver will be outside your building shortly.”

Before she could protest, the line went dead.

Emily stared at her phone in disbelief.

“What the actual hell?” she muttered.

Curiosity warred with caution as she paced the small living room. She didn’t owe Liam Westbrook anything—but the sheer absurdity of the situation piqued her interest.

What could he possibly want?

Against her better judgment, Emily found herself throwing on a pair of jeans and a sweater. She pulled her hair into a messy ponytail, grabbed her coat, and headed downstairs.

Sure enough, a sleek black car idled at the curb. The driver, a stern-looking man in a tailored suit, opened the door without a word.

Emily hesitated for only a moment before climbing inside.

The interior was as luxurious as she’d expected—plush leather seats, tinted windows, and a faint scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air.

The drive was silent, tension crackling in the confined space. Emily’s mind raced with questions, none of which had reasonable answers.

Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up in front of a gleaming skyscraper that seemed to touch the clouds. Westbrook Enterprises loomed over the city, its glass façade reflecting the gray sky.

The driver escorted Emily through the lobby, past a series of security checks, and into a private elevator.

Her nerves tightened with each passing second. What was she doing here?

The elevator doors slid open to reveal a sprawling office with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

Liam stood near the window, his back to her, hands clasped behind him.

“Miss Monroe,” he greeted without turning around. “Thank you for coming.”

Emily crossed her arms, trying to appear braver than she felt. “You didn’t exactly give me a choice.”

He chuckled softly and finally turned to face her. “Fair enough. Please, have a seat.”

Reluctantly, Emily sank into one of the plush chairs opposite his massive desk.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,” Liam began, his expression unreadable.

“You could say that,” she replied dryly.

“I need a partner,” he said bluntly.

Emily blinked. “A partner? For what?”

“A marriage partner.”

Silence hung heavy between them, broken only by the distant hum of traffic.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Emily finally said, her voice flat.

“I assure you, I’m completely serious,” Liam said calmly.

Emily laughed incredulously. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” he countered smoothly. “You’re hardworking, determined, and resourceful. Qualities I admire.”

Her heart raced as disbelief gave way to suspicion. “Why me?”

“Because I need someone who won’t complicate things,” Liam said simply. “This would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. You help me meet certain... expectations, and I’ll ensure your financial stability.”

Emily stared at him, her mind reeling. Was this really happening?

“You want a fake marriage,” she said slowly, trying to wrap her head around the absurdity of it all.

“Yes.”

“And in return, you’ll... pay me?”

“Generously.”

Emily’s instincts screamed at her to run—to walk out of this office and never look back. But a small, dangerous part of her whispered that this was an opportunity.

A chance to change everything.

“Why do you need this?” she asked cautiously.

Liam’s jaw tightened. “That’s not your concern.”

Emily weighed her options. She had nothing to lose—but potentially everything to gain.

“What’s the catch?” she asked warily.

“There’s always a catch,” Liam admitted with a faint smile. “But we’ll get to that later.”

Emily exhaled slowly, her mind spinning.

This was madness.

But maybe, just maybe, madness was exactly what she needed.