A DEAL WITH THE DEVILISH BILLIONAIRE

Ava Hart stared at her computer screen, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she worked through the endless stream of numbers and calculations. The small accounting firm where she worked was quiet that evening; the hum of the fluorescent lights was the only sound aside from her typing.At twenty-six, Ava was brilliant with numbers, and it was a skill she had honed from an early age. Numbers were predictable and logical, and unlike life, they always made sense if you worked through the equation. But despite her talent, Ava’s life was anything but balanced.She lived modestly in a two-bedroom apartment with her parents, who had fallen on hard times after her father’s small construction business went bankrupt. Her mother, once a lively florist, had stopped working to care for her husband after his health began to fail. Ava had stepped into the role of breadwinner without hesitation.She didn’t resent the responsibility; she loved her family fiercely. Her father, Henry Hart, had always

Damien Cross’s office was a fortress of glass and steel, a reflection of the man who ruled it. His reputation was legendary: a self-made billionaire who had built an empire from nothing. But beneath the polished exterior lay a man far darker than anyone could imagine. He’s a man who thrived on control, calculated ruthlessness, and the relentless pursuit of power.The marriage contract was just another tool in Damien’s arsenal. His board of directors had been growing restless, their trust shaken by recent scandals and the looming acquisition of TitanTech, a technology firm critical to expanding his empire. They wanted stability, a more humanized image of their aloof and cutthroat CEO. A wife, even a fake one, was the solution.Damien sat at his desk, the soft glow of his computer screencasting shadows on his face. Before him was Ava Hart’s profile, or rather, the one he had fabricated. The transformation was already in motion. She was no longer the struggling accountant from a lower-cl

The ballroom was silent as Alessandro Rossi’s question hung in the air. His fluent Italian rolled effortlessly off his tongue, and Ava could feel the weight of every pair of eyes on her. Her pulse raced, and for a fleeting moment, panic threatened to overwhelm her.But then something clicked.Damien’s gaze bore into her, his expression unreadable, though she could sense the tension radiating from him. Whether it was adrenaline or sheer determination, Ava suddenly found herself speaking.She once had to learn Italian when her boss handed an Italian client over to her. The client had been a handful, and it was like a punishment, but she got through the pain, learned the language to a reasonable extent and was able to take care of the client. Who knew it would be helpful on a day like this?Her words came out with confidence she didn’t know she had, her Italian flowing smoothly as she answered Rossi’s query. She gestured delicately, mimicking the poise and sophistication Damien had drill

Ava sat across from Damien in the dining room, the wealthy atmosphere of her surroundings starkly contrasting the tension in the air. Damien was reviewing a document on his tablet, his expression was sharp and unreadable as always. Ava shifted uncomfortably in her seat, waiting for him to speak.Finally, he set the tablet down and looked at her. “There are some things we need to clarify.”Ava frowned slightly. “More rules?”“Precisely,” Damien replied without hesitation. “This arrangement is strictly transactional. I don’t want you getting any ideas about what this is. You’re playing a role, and nothing more.”His words were clinical, devoid of emotion, and they stung more than Ava cared to admit. She kept her face neutral, refusing to show how much his coldness affected her.“What kind of rules?” she asked, crossing her arms.“For starters,” Damien began, leaning back in his chair, “you’ll submit a weekly report detailing how your week went. I want to know everything. Every interacti

The warmth of the morning sun cast soft golden rays over Damien’s estate, but inside Ava’s room, the light barely touched her. She sat by the window with a blank sketchpad on her lap, her mind preoccupied. Her quiet life under Damien’s rules had become a strange rhythm, one she tolerated but didn’t enjoy. However, the outside world she’d left behind was beginning to stir trouble in ways she couldn’t ignore.At the small Hart family apartment, Ava’s father, Henry, paced back and forth while her mother, Clara, sat at the dining table, clutching her phone as if willing it to ring. Days had turned into weeks since they’d last spoken to Ava, and the worry was consuming them both.“Have you heard anything from Layla?” Clara asked, her voice thick with desperation.Henry shook his head. “Nothing. She keeps saying she doesn’t know what’s going on.”Clara bit her lip, tears threatening to spill. “This isn’t like Ava. She wouldn’t just vanish like this.”“She said she’d fix it,” Henry said, his