Chapter 5 - THE PENTHOUSE PRISON
"Are you insane?" The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. "A fake marriage? This isn't a soap opera, Adrian. This is real life!"
"It is highly practical," he countered smoothly, his face a mask of absolute calm. "As my wife, any debt you hold becomes a matter for my estate to handle. My legal team can bury Russo in injunctions for the next twenty years. You get total security. I get the board off my back. In twelve months, we file for an amicable divorce. You walk away with a generous settlement, completely debt-free."
"And what about Mia?" I demanded, my protective instincts flaring. "She already thinks you’re going to be her father. She’s six. She doesn’t understand corporate maneuvers. If we do this, and you leave in a year, it will break her heart."
Adrian’s jaw tightened. For a fleeting second, the impenetrable wall he kept around his emotions seemed to crack. "I would never do anything to hurt Mia. I give you my word. We will explain it to her in a way she understands when the time comes. But right now, her safety is the priority."
The reality of my situation crushed down on me. I had no money, no power, and a target on my back. Adrian was offering me a fortress. I looked at the dark, sprawling city outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, imagining the monsters waiting in the shadows.
"Okay," I whispered, the word feeling like a binding spell. "I’ll do it."
Within forty-eight hours, the machine of Adrian Kane’s wealth went to work. We didn't have a grand wedding; we signed papers in a private judge's chambers in downtown Manhattan. I wore a simple white suit. Adrian wore a look of grim determination. He slipped a staggering four-carat emerald-cut diamond onto my finger, the cold metal heavy with the weight of our lie.
The press announcement was meticulously orchestrated by Blackwell & Reed's PR department. Billionaire CEO Weds Lead Creative in Whirlwind Office Romance. The media ate it up.
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But behind the closed doors of the penthouse, the tension was unbearable. We were playing house. During the day, we were boss and employee. In the evenings, we were husband and wife, forced into proximity. Every time we brushed past each other in the hallway, an electric shock seemed to jump between us. The air grew thicker, heavier, filled with things unsaid. And the hardest part? He was an incredible father to Mia.
I was terrified I was falling in love with my fake husband.
