CHAPTER 2

Michelle barely slept that night.

Even after the party had ended and she had locked herself in her room, Raymond's words echoed in her head over and over again like an unsolvable riddle, she thought hard about what he said.

"You need a way out. And I need a wife."

She tossed and turned, the weight of her predicament pressing hard against her chest. Marrying a stranger—no, worse, marrying Raymond Hawthorne, a man feared by many—was sheer madness. And yet, the alternative was just as terrifying. She wasn't ready for the kind of trouble and fame that came with marrying him but then, she didn't want to be trapped and be at the mercy of her parents unpredictable actions . She wanted to be free.

Her father would not let her reject the arranged marriage he had planned. And even if she tried to resist, he’d either guilt-trip her or threaten to cut her off completely, as if she weren’t already the family’s disposable afterthought.

By morning, Michelle’s decision still hadn’t solidified, but fate didn’t give her much time to dwell on it.

Her bedroom door burst open without a knock.

"Michelle!"

She jolted up from bed, eyes widening as her twin sister Millie sauntered into Michelle's room like a queen entering her royal court—except, instead of elegance, she looked like a malfunctioning robot trying to imitate a runway model.

Her hips swayed so dramatically that it seemed like she was dodging invisible obstacles, and at one point, she nearly lost balance, catching herself with an awkward twirl. If confidence had a confused sister, it would be this.

Michelle, who had been peacefully thinking about her predicament , blinked once, then twice, before sitting up properly. "Are you okay? Or is this your new way of summoning spirits?" She found the scene funny and almost laughed out loud.

Millie flicked her hair over her shoulder, ignoring the comment. "I call this the ‘irresistible sway.’" She demonstrated again, throwing in an extra exaggerated hip pop for effect.

Michelle stared for a long second before deadpanning, "More like the ‘please call an ambulance’ sway."

Millie huffed, plopping onto the bed dramatically. "You have no appreciation for art."

Michelle sighed. "Art? That looked like you were wrestling with gravity and losing.”

Millie was dressed in silk pajamas and with not a single strand of her golden hair out of place, she looked as if she had spent the night basking in luxury—while Michelle looked like she had just fought a war against her own thoughts.

"Do you ever knock?" What is it that you want now? Michelle muttered, rubbing her temples.

Millie ignored her and sat up straight, crossing her legs with an exaggerated sigh. "You're not going to believe what I heard last night."

Michelle stiffened. Does she know about Raymond’s proposal? She thought.

Millie leaned in, eyes glinting. "I heard Dad talking to Mr. Lancaster after you ran off. He was furious! Said you embarrassed him and ruined an important business deal."

Michelle's stomach churned, but she forced a neutral expression. "Is that so?"

"Yes!" Millie grinned as if relishing Michelle’s misery. "You should’ve seen his face. He said if you don't apologize and accept the marriage, he’ll—"

Millie paused, then smirked. "Well, I’m not supposed to say."

Michelle clenched her fists. She already knew what her father was capable of. He didn’t need to say it outright—his control over her had always been unspoken but absolute.

"Anyway," Millie continued, stretching her arms lazily. "I just came to say that if you refuse, maybe I’ll take your place. Mr. Lancaster's son is loaded, and I wouldn’t mind adding him to my collection."

Michelle’s jaw tightened. Of course Millie would say that. She had a habit of swooping in and taking everything Michelle had or wanted , no matter how little it was.

But this time… Michelle wasn’t sure she wanted what was being offered.

Millie studied her, then suddenly narrowed her eyes. "Wait… you did run into Raymond Hawthorne last night, didn’t you?"

Michelle tensed. "How do you—"

"Because I saw you, obviously," Millie interrupted, sitting up straighter. "You ran off like a scared little rabbit, then boom—straight into the Raymond Hawthorne. I almost felt bad for you."

Michelle exhaled slowly. "Why does it matter?"

Millie gave a mocking laugh. "Because, dear sister, if Raymond did take an interest in you, that would be very unexpected. And interesting."

Michelle didn’t reply. She was deep in thought.

Millie’s smirk deepened. "You’re hiding something."

"I’m not."

Millie hummed, unconvinced. "Fine. Keep your little secret. But don’t get too comfortable, Michelle. If you don’t grab your opportunities fast, someone else will."

Michelle watched as Millie waltzed out of the room, her warning hanging in the air like a shadow.

Her twin always got what she wanted. Once Millie sets her mind on something, she would do anything and go to any extent to get whatever she wanted , not minding the outcome.

And if Millie found out about Raymond’s proposal?

She’d do everything in her power to take that from Michelle too.

Later that day, Michelle found herself standing outside Hawthorne Enterprises. The building was high and breathtaking. "The glass shimmered with reflections of the sunlight, creating a beautiful and mesmerizing view.” She didn’t even remember how she got there. Her feet had simply carried her, driven by a desperate need for control over her own fate.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the glass doors and stepped into the building.

The receptionist barely glanced up before her expression shifted to surprise. "Miss Davenport?"

Michelle hesitated. "Yes?"

"You’re expected."

Michelle blinked. "I am?" She was surprised.

Before she could ask how Raymond knew she was coming, the receptionist gestured toward the elevators. "Mr. Hawthorne is waiting in his office. You may go up."

Michelle swallowed.

Did he predict I’d come?

Not knowing whether to be impressed or unnerved, she stepped into his personal elevator.

As the doors slid shut, one thought pulsed through her mind.

Whatever happened next…

There was no turning back.

The elevator ride felt both too short and agonizingly long. As Michelle ascended to the top floor, her pulse quickened with each passing second. Her reflection in the mirrored elevator doors betrayed her nerves—lips pressed together, hands clenched at her sides, shoulders stiff with tension.

What was she doing? Was she really about to walk into Raymond Hawthorne’s office and accept his outrageous proposal?

The thought made her stomach twist, but another image flashed in her mind—her father, smirking as he finalized her engagement to some stranger, treating her like a pawn in his business game.

No. She inhaled sharply, steeling herself. If she had to choose between two evils, at least with Raymond, she wouldn’t be completely powerless.

The elevator chimed.

The doors slid open, revealing a sleek, modern office space that screamed power and intimidation. A long hallway stretched ahead, its walls lined with expensive artwork and pristine glass panels that overlooked the New York skyline.

At the end of the corridor stood a set of imposing double doors.

A woman in a perfectly pressed suit—likely Raymond’s assistant—rose from her desk. “Miss Davenport, he’s waiting for you.” Please come with me.

Michelle nodded, her throat dry. She crossed the distance, her heels clicking against the polished floor, before hesitantly pushing open the doors.

Inside, Raymond stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, gazing out at the city as if he owned it. Which, in a way, he did. "He looked handsome, like he had just stepped out of a fashion magazine.”The moment she stepped inside, he turned.

“You came.”

His voice was smooth, but there was something else beneath it—an air of quiet amusement, as if he had known all along that she’d show up.

Michelle lifted her chin, willing her voice to stay steady. “You knew I would.”

His lips curved slightly, as if pleased with her response. “I did.”

Her fingers curled at her sides. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

Raymond’s eyes darkened with something unreadable. He stepped away from the window, moving toward his desk with a measured stride. “No, but you’re considering it.”

Michelle swallowed. He wasn’t wrong.

Raymond sat on the edge of his desk, folding his arms. “Let’s not waste time. You want to escape your family’s control and be free. I need a wife to silence my board and keep certain people off my back. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

She hesitated. “And if I say no?”

He raised a brow. “Then you can go back home, where your father will marry you off to the highest bidder.” "And I doubt you'll ever be able to break free," he said. The bluntness of his words hit her like a slap.

Raymond leaned forward slightly. “But if you say yes, you get freedom. A contract. A legally binding agreement that puts you in control of your own life.”

Michelle’s heart pounded. She wanted to argue, to push back, but the reality was that he was right.

Still, she had to know one thing.

“Why me?” she asked again, searching his face. “You could have chosen anyone. Women would line up for the chance to be Mrs. Hawthorne.” They would kill for it?

Something flickered in his gaze, brief but intense. “Because I know you won’t fall in love with me.” Even if you do, i can't do anything about it, so i suggest you don't.

Michelle blinked. That was not the answer she had expected.

Raymond tilted his head slightly, observing her reaction. “This isn’t about romance, Michelle. It’s business. I don’t want a wife who will mistake this for a love story.”

Her chest tightened. Love story? She almost laughed. She wasn’t that naive.

Michelle let out a slow breath. “And what do you get out of it, besides a wife for show?”

Raymond’s expression didn’t change. “I keep control over my company, silence the rumors, keep the paparazzi in check and avoid certain…complications.”

There was something about the way he said “complications” that made her curious, but she didn’t push.

Instead, she squared her shoulders. “And what do you expect from me?”

His gaze held hers. “Loyalty. Discretion. And the ability to play your role convincingly.”

Michelle hesitated, her mind racing.

She had spent her entire life following her family’s orders, living in Millie’s shadow, and being treated like an afterthought.

For the first time, she had a choice.

A terrifying one. But a choice nonetheless.

Her breath came out shakily. “And if I agree… how long would this arrangement last?”

Raymond didn’t hesitate. “One year.”

One year.

Twelve months of playing the role of Raymond Hawthorne’s wife.

It wasn’t forever.

She could survive that.

Michelle lifted her chin, meeting his gaze head-on.

“Then let’s discuss the terms.” She had made up her mind.