A Deal with the billionaire

Chapter 2:

The rain came again that night, thin as mist and cold was too much. Eden stood outside the Arcadia Grand Hotel in the alley where she parked her bike, the envelope Cassian had handed her clutched so tightly in her palm she could feel the imprint of the cash through the paper. Her stomach twisted. Five thousand dollars. In cash. For playing pretend with a man who radiated danger and charm in equal measure.

She hadn’t gone home. She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t even called her mother back.

she was busy thinking about the deal.

trying to decide if she was desperate, stupid, or both.

When her phone finally rang, she answered without checking the screen.

"I’ll do it," she said.

Cassian’s voice was smooth and immediate. "Good. We’ll begin tomorrow. I’ll send a car."

She hung up before he could say more. If she thought too hard, she’d change her mind.

The next morning, Eden stood in front of a black car that looked like it cost more than her student loan debt. A driver with no name opened the door and offered a curt nod. She climbed in, her oversized hoodie traded for the only decent dress she owned—a burgundy wrap that clung too tight in some places and hung loose in others.

Cassian was waiting when she arrived.

His Manhattan penthouse was glass and cold steel, everything pristine and expensive. The kind of place where people drank scotch at noon and hid secrets in the walls. He didn’t say hello. Just looked at her the way a man looks at a painting he’s deciding whether to destroy or hang on the wall.

"This isn't charity," Eden said before he could speak. "You wanted a deal. So let’s talk terms."

Cassian asked her to sit. A folder waited on the glass coffee table.

Inside was a contract.

he said. you're going to attend every event as my fiancée. You smile, hold my hand, say the right things. I will provide wardrobe, housing, and a monthly stipend. In return, you agree to exclusivity, discretion, and confidentiality."

"Sounds more like a hostage situation."

"You’re free to walk away. if you can't cope with the deal."

She didn’t.

"What aren’t you telling me?" she asked.

Cassian’s jaw tensed. "This is not a romantic arrangement, Miss Blake. It’s damage control. My name is worth billions. Yours is worth nothing. That makes you invisible. Useful."

"You have a real gift for making a girl feel special."she said

"I’m not interested in feelings dear Eden".

He slid a black velvet box across the table. Inside was the ring she’d worn the night before. Eden lifted it, felt its weight. It was beautiful, yes, but also cold. Like it had never been worn with love.

She slipped it on. It fit perfectly.

"There’s one more thing," Cassian said. "You’ll move in."

"What?"

"It’s more believable. Couples in love don’t live in separate boroughs."

She stared at him. "You’re out of your mind."

"You already said yes. Consider this an upgrade."

"What about my job, do I have to quit it?"

"Quit it. Or keep it and ruin the illusion."said he

Eden breathed in deeply. This man was relentless. Controlled. And clearly used to getting everything he wanted.

"I want ten thousand," she said.

His eyes sparkled. "Now we’re negotiating."

Later, Cassian showed her to the guest suite that was now hers. It overlooked the Hudson, decorated in minimalist tones that felt like a catalog page. Not a trace of humanity in sight.

She opened the closet. Every item was tailored to her size. The dresses looked like they belonged on magazine covers. Shoes lined the wall like a boutique.

There was even lingerie. Delicate. Silken. Black.

Eden slammed the door shut.

"One more thing," Cassian said as he appeared in the doorway. "We have dinner with Gregory tonight. My father."

"Why do I get the feeling this is the real test?"

He smiled thinly. "Because it is."

The restaurant was one of those high-society places with no sign on the door and a six-month waiting list. Cassian arrived with Eden on his arm, the diamond ring flashing under the chandelier light.

Gregory Wolfe looked like an older, crueler version of his son. Eyes sharp, mouth thin, hands too still. He gave Eden a single look, then nodded.

"You're prettier than the last one."

Eden forced a smile. "And you’re more charming than I imagined."

Cassian smirked.

Dinner was tense. Gregory asked questions designed to trip her up: where she studied, how they met, why she said yes.

"Sometimes," Eden said sweetly, "you don’t need time. Just certainty."

Gregory narrowed his eyes. Cassian squeezed her thigh under the table. Approval or warning, she couldn’t tell.

After dinner, as they returned to the car, Eden exhaled for the first time in hours.

"He doesn't like me."

"He doesn’t like anyone. He respects performance, not people. You passed."

Cassian turned to her, closer than he needed to be. His voice dropped.

"But if you lie to me again, this ends. No second chances."

"I haven’t lied to you ."

"You haven’t told me everything either."

"Neither have you."

For a moment, the space between them felt like the edge of something sharp.

Then he stepped back, and the moment shattered.

"Tomorrow, we host the charity gala. You’ll be introduced officially. Wear red."

She nodded. Then, quietly: "What happens if someone finds out the truth?"

Cassian paused.

"Then we burn the lie. And everyone in it."