CHAPTER THREE: You need me too.

PAST

Alex adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, his mind unwillingly drifting to the meeting ahead. He had no clear picture of Niya, only memories of a lanky girl from high school who always seemed to have a book tucked under her arm. But her grandmother, Ma Phil, had painted a different image—poised, graceful, capable. Although, he doubted her grandmother's words. She may not fit his idea of the perfect wife, but she needed money. Fast. 

People didn’t change that much, did they? He couldn’t help but wonder if this arrangement would be more trouble than it was worth.

When the door opened, Alex’s breath hitched. Niya stepped in, her yellow off-shoulder top paired with dark blue jeans, cutting a figure that was neither timid nor polished at all. Her long pin straight, black hair was pulled back into a low loosed bun, but a few strands framed her face, softening her serious expression. Her skin gleamed like polished bronze, and her almond-shaped dark eyes held his gaze with a directness he wasn’t prepared for.

He recognized her gaze well enough, but age had changed the colors. Certain images came to his mind—plumbing the depths of the night sky in search of its mysteries. A canvas of galaxied skies stretched so far and wide a man couldn’t find the beginning or end. His eyes landed on her plump pink lips as hot male fantasies built around a mouth like hers—soft, warm, sticky like honey poured over and slowly licked off.

Fucking hell.

Alex reigned himself in and finished his inspection, his eyes travelling all over her body. He remembered saving her from bullies when they found out her younger sister had more boobs than her. Although he saved her, Alex didn’t stop torturing her about it. She wasn't an early developer, but now he'd been mortified by his discovery. Now, it wasn’t funny anymore. Her breasts were as plump as her mouth, and matched the slight curve of her hips. 

"Ahem. My face is up here," she greeted in a low voice as she threw her fingers in the air, the movement like she was about giving a serious dance step. "I’m sorry I’m late. The traffic was—"

"You’re not late," he cut her off, gesturing toward the chair across from him. "Please, sit. Would you like coffee? Tea?”

She nodded and moved to sit down, the yellow material pulled down and gave him a glimpse of olive skin, smooth and shiny before it relaxed. Her posture straight, her demeanor calm. But her hands betrayed her—she clasped them tightly on her lap, fidgeting with her ring finger as if checking for a piece of jewelry that wasn’t there.

"I'm sorry about your father," Niya’s voice cut through the tense silence like a warm breeze.

Alex blinked, surprised by the genuine empathy in her tone. For a moment, he let the words remain, allowing a small crack to show in the wall he had carefully built around himself before her arrival. 

“It’s been three years now–” Their eyes met and for a millisecondand he felt his heart stomped. Alex cleared his throat again. “Thank you. Did Ma Phil fill you in on the details?”

“She did,” Niya sucked in air, only to swallow the scent of cedarwood and citrus. His scent. “The whole thing sounds...crazy.”

Alex gave a humorless laugh, and Niya subconsciously held her breath. 

“It is. My father believed in family, but he also believed in control. Before he died, he was convinced I’d never settle down or rather I wouldn't care if…” Alex's jaw tightened. “He decided to use the company as leverage to push me into marriage. He thought it would be for my own good.”

Niya tilted her head, studying him. “And you agreed to it?”

“If I don’t marry, my uncle gets 100% controlling shares of my father’s company.”

There was a moment of silence as Niya processed his words. Then, almost tentatively, she asked, “You don’t believe in marriage, do you?”

Alex’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Marriage is unnecessary. A dream sold to us with white dresses and fairy tales. But in reality? Forever is a lie. White knights and monogamy don’t exist.”

Niya stared at him, stunned by the bluntness of his answer. She wanted to argue because she thought she had proof that love existed. But she remembered how much of a contrarian young Alex was in high school. “Then commitment to another person means nothing to you.”

He shrugged. “Commitments are temporary. Sure, people mean it when they promise love and devotion. But give it time. It all fades. Do you know anyone who’s truly, happily married?”

Niya opened her mouth as an almost triggering curse rose to her throat, but she was hesitant. Growing up, his friends used to call him “smoke screen” from how blunt and smoldering looking he was, and she picked it up from them. 

Her parents’ marriage had been the one solid foundation in her life, but even that had cracks she didn’t like to acknowledge. “I guess not. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible,” she finally said. 

“Maybe,” Alex smacks his lips. “But I’ve seen too many marriages fall apart. The good stuff erodes, and all that’s left is resentment and regret.”

Niya frowned. “You don’t think there’s value in having someone to grow old with? To share your life with?”

“Most people don’t want to grow old,” Alex shot back. “That’s why they trade in their partners for younger models. Relationships are just...transactions.”

She gave an unladylike snort. “That’s...cynical.”

“It’s realistic,” he countered.

There was a pause as they stared each other down. Finally, Niya let out a slow breath to untie the knot forming in her chest, forcing herself to shift the focus back to the business at hand. “I guess there are a lot of things we don’t agree on,” she said carefully. “But if we’re going to do this, we’ll need time to figure out how to make it work.”

A smirk stretched Alex's lips as he lifted the cup of coffee. But there's nothing sexy about it. “We don’t have time. The wedding has to happen in a few days. Whether or not we get along is irrelevant. This is a business arrangement.”

“Fine,” she said, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “But for the record, you’re still the same overbearing bully—”

Alex coughed, nearly choking on his coffee. The jab is subtle but effective. She leaned back, satisfied, as his gaze darted away.

He pushed the contract toward her. “So," he started in a neutral tone, wanting to get it over with…the sexual tension he didn't realize he had until his eyes dropped to his zipper. “Do you have any questions about the arrangement?"

Her plump lips parted, but before she spoke, her gaze flickered down to the papers spread between them. The contracts were neatly laid out, along with a tray carrying her untouched cup of coffee. It was indeed formal, yet friendly—which reflected the tone of their marriage.

"Only one. Why me?" 

"Your grandmother says you’re reliable," he replied bluntly as if he already knew the questions before they formed in her mind. "That’s good enough for me."

Her expression didn’t change, but something flickered in her dark eyes. "Ma Phil’s judgment will—”

"She’s proven herself over the years. Besides," he added, "you need this as much as I do."

Her shoulders stiffened. "I don’t…” she flattered. “I’m doing this for my family,” she corrected.

Alex’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. "That’s what I mean. Ma Phil said you’d do anything for them. She wasn’t wrong."

Niya’s thoughts flared. Anything for them wasn’t it what got her here? Ma Phil said she was the only one who could do this—that paying off her parents’ debts would be her way of honoring their memory. It didn’t matter that it meant tying herself to a man who saw her as nothing more than a means to an end.

She swallowed her pride, eyes dropping to the papers before she offered him a tight smile.

"You’ll see that everything is straightforward. No surprises. This is strictly business. Ma Phil told me you needed a specific amount of money. I kept the figure open for negotiation.”

An odd expression crossed her face but she didn't look away from the papers nor did it look like she was reading them. 

“I know you’ll need your lawyer to look it over.”

“No need.”

“One year. You’ll attend functions with me, play the part of a devoted wife, and, in return, your family’s debts are paid in full."

"And after a year?"

"You walk away. Clean slate."

"I assume I’m allowed to maintain my independence. I’m not moving into some gilded cage."

"Uh-uh…You’ll live at my house," he clarified. "But I have no interest in monitoring your every move. Do what you want, within reason. Just keep up appearances when it counts."

Niya’s thoughts raced. This was what she agreed to. It’s not forever. Just one year. A year of pretending to be someone she was not, just for the people she loves.

"Let’s not pretend you’re happy about this either," she muttered. "I don’t think I’m exactly your dream wife."

Alex chuckled dryly. "You’re right.” 

Her eyes slammed with his. Disappointment spamming her expression. What was she thinking? That she was his type? was ridiculous to have such thoughts even cross her mind. 

“But you’re the practical choice. And I value practicality."

She nodded. For a moment, their eyes locked. Whatever this was, it wasn’t love. But something they could both survive.