BILLIONAIRE'S FAKE FIANCÉE

Paige

The first time I broke my promise, it wasn’t with words, It was with silence.

The hospital room smells like antiseptic and grief, sharp enough to burn my lungs every time I breathe. 

Machines beep softly around us, indifferent to the fact that the woman lying in the bed is dying. That her hand is slipping from mine, cold and weak, her skin almost translucent beneath the thin white sheet.

Lila looks nothing like herself.

Her cheeks are hollow, her lips pale, dark circles shadowing eyes that were once always laughing, always alive. Tubes run into her arms. A monitor counts down something I don’t want to name, time, life, her. 

I grip her hand tighter, terrified that if I loosen my hold even for a second, she will disappear before I’m ready, before I can be ready.

“Paige,” she whispers.

Her voice is barely there, fragile like glass stretched too thin. I lean closer immediately, my heart hammering so hard it hurts.

“I’m here,” I say quickly. “I’m right here Lila.”

Her lips curve into a faint smile. Even now. Even like this.

“You have always been,” she murmurs. “You never leave.”

The words slice through me, because I will never leave her, she is the one leaving me.

Tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Lila hates when I cry. Says it makes her feel like she is already gone.

Her fingers twitch in mine, weak but determined. “Promise me something Paige.”

My chest tightens. I already know what she’s going to say, and fear claws up my throat, sharp and merciless.

“Anything,” I say, too fast. “I promise. Whatever you want.”

Her gaze drifts, not to me, but to the clear plastic bassinet beside the bed and my breath stutters.

Inside it lies the smallest human being I have ever seen.

Wrapped in a pale yellow blanket, her tiny chest rises and falls softly. She has Lila’s dark hair, already thick and curling against her head, and a faint crease between her brows like she’s already worried about the world she’s been born into.

The world Lila is about to leave her in.

“She is perfect,” Lila whispers.

“She is,” I choke out.

Lila turns back to me, and this time her grip tightens painfully around my fingers, strength fueled by desperation. “Don’t let them take her.”

My heart drops straight into my stomach.

“Paige, please don’t let her grow up alone.”

A sob tears out of me before I can stop it. “I won’t,” I whisper fiercely. “I swear. I will take care of her. I will love her like she is mine.”

Lila’s eyes shine with tears. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” I say. “I promise, Lila. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Her shoulders sag with relief, and a breath shudders out of her chest. Her eyes flutter, then slowly close.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

The monitor beside us lets out a long, flat sound.

I don’t remember screaming.

****

Three months later, I’m standing in a gray office that smells faintly of lemon cleaner and judgment, realizing that promises mean nothing without power.

The adoption agency is quiet, sterile, the kind of place where hope comes to die politely. The woman across from me Ms. Carter folds her hands neatly on the desk and offers me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“We appreciate your willingness to step in,” she says. “But as I explained, the process is rigorous.”

My fingers dig into my palms beneath the table. “I understand.”

She glances down at the file in front of her. My file. My life reduced to paper and numbers and reasons why I am not enough.

“Ms. Harper,” she continues, “you are unmarried.”

“Yes,” I say quietly.

“And your income, while steady is limited.”

I swallow. “I have savings.”

She tilts her head sympathetically. “Barely sufficient for a single adult. Children require stability. Support systems. Preferably two parents.”

Two parents.

As if love comes in pairs or not at all.

“I love her,” I say, my voice shaking despite my efforts. “She is my family.”

Ms. Carter sighs softly. “Love is important. But it’s not enough to raise a child.”

The words crush my chest.

She slides a piece of paper toward me. “We have approved continued visitation for now. But unless circumstances change”

She doesn’t finish the sentence.

She doesn’t have to, I know what is in the end of that sentence.

I leave the building feeling hollow, the weight of failure pressing down on me with every step. My phone buzzes in my hand, and I stop on the sidewalk, heart racing as I answer.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Harper,” a woman says. “This is foster care. There has been an inquiry.”

My breath catches. “An inquiry?”

“Yes. A young married couple, financially stable. They are very interested in the baby.”

The world tilts right infront of my eyes .

“When?” I whisper.

“Soon,” she replies gently. “I wanted to give you a heads up.”

I hang up and stare at the street, cars rushing past me, people laughing, living, unaware that my world is ending.

I promised her.

My chest tightens painfully, panic flooding my veins. I can’t lose her and I won't. 

Two days later, I’m sitting across from Ms. Carter again, desperation pounding through me like a second heartbeat.

“I’m engaged,” I blurt out.

The word hangs in the air between us, heavy and irreversible.

Ms. Carter blinks. “Engaged?” she is just as confused as I am by the words that just came out of my mouth. 

“Yes,” I say quickly. “My fiancé is very private. But we are planning to marry soon.”

I don’t know why I say it or why I keep saying more. 

I don’t know how my mouth forms the words or why my brain doesn’t stop me. All I know is that something inside me is screaming, Do something. Anything.

She studies me carefully. “what's your fiancé’s name Paige?”

My heart slams against my ribs. A face flashes in my mind and there is only one man I can think of, Cold gray eyes.

A perfectly tailored suit.

A man feared by boardrooms and tabloids alike, My boss.

“Dante,” I say. “Dante De Luca.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Ms. Carter’s eyebrows lift slightly. “As in that Dante De Luca?”

I nod, numb.

She types something into her computer. Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly.

“Well,” she says slowly. “That certainly changes things.”

Relief crashes through me so hard I almost cry.

I don’t think about consequences, I don’t think about tomorrow, I only think about the baby sleeping safely in her crib tonight.

I don’t see the headlines until the next morning.

DEVIL CEO SECRETLY ENGAGED?

DANTE DE LUCA’S MYSTERY FIANCÉE REVEALED

My blood turns into ice, and then I hear it.

The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps marching down the corridor toward my desk.

My boss is coming.