Contracted to The Billionaire

Emma's Pov "Miss Clarke, you have fourteen days before we begin foreclosure proceedings."I stared at the banker across the desk, his words hitting me like physical blows. Fourteen days. Two weeks to come up with fifty thousand dollars or lose the only thing I had left of my father, our apartment."I understand," I whispered, gathering my purse with trembling hands. "Thank you for your time."The February air bit through my thin coat as I stepped onto the Manhattan sidewalk. Three jobs. I worked three jobs, and it still wasn't enough. The medical bills from Dad's cancer treatment had swallowed everything: my savings, my business, my future. Now they wanted the apartment too.My phone buzzed. Sophie."Please tell me the bank meeting went well," my best friend said without preamble."Fourteen days, Soph. Then I'm homeless."Her sharp intake of breath said everything. "Emma, I can loan you….""You're about to have a baby. You need that money." I blinked back tears, refusing to cry on a

Emma's Pov I signed the contract three hours later in a lawyer's office that David Chen insisted on providing. The ink was barely dry when Alexander's assistant Patricia transferred fifty-three thousand dollars into my account, and suddenly I could breathe again for the first time in two years."The wedding is in five days," Patricia informed me as we left the lawyer's office. She was a polished woman in her fifties with sharp eyes that missed nothing. "We're telling the press it's been a whirlwind romance. You'll need to move into the penthouse tomorrow so we can prepare you.""Prepare me for what?""For being Mrs. Alexander Cross." She handed me a thick binder. "This covers everything, how to dress, how to speak to the media, which forks to use at formal dinners, and the names and backgrounds of everyone in Alexander's social circle. Study it tonight. Tomorrow, we start your transformation."I clutched the binder to my chest, feeling like I'd just sold my soul. "Patricia, can I ask

Emma's Pov The wedding dress arrived at six a.m., three days before the ceremony. I stared at it hanging in my room, white silk, simple and elegant, exactly what I would have chosen for a real wedding. That made it worse somehow.Patricia appeared in my doorway with coffee and a tablet. "Good morning. We have final preparations today. Hair and makeup trial at nine, photographer meeting at eleven, and Alexander wants to rehearse your vows at two.""Rehearse vows?" I took the coffee gratefully. "I thought we were doing standard vows.""You are, but you need to practice saying them without looking like you're being held hostage." Patricia's tone was brisk. "The press will be watching for any sign this isn't real. Sterling's team is already spreading rumors.""What kind of rumors?"Patricia hesitated. "That you're an escort Alexander hired. That the marriage is a green card situation. That you're after his money. The usual ugliness when a wealthy man marries someone unknown." She set the

Alexander's POVSterling's statement hit every major outlet by six a.m. I was already awake, already dressed, already three cups of coffee into the morning when Patricia forwarded me the links. I read them standing at the kitchen counter while the city below was still gray and quiet.Sterling had stopped short of releasing the contract. Instead, he'd released a photograph, me and Emma at the charity gala before any of this started, with a caption suggesting the relationship had been manufactured for press purposes. It was thin. Circumstantial. But it was enough to make people ask questions.David called at six fifteen."He's testing us," David said. "If we panic and overreact, he'll know the contract exists. If we stay quiet, the story fades in forty-eight hours.""And if he actually has the contract?""Then we deal with it. But right now he's fishing." A pause. "How did last night go?""We're legally married.""That's not what I asked.""It's the only part that matters."David was qu

Alexander's POVThe mole was someone in my inner circle.David confirmed it at eight a.m. Thursday, sitting across from me in my office with a printout that showed three internal documents Sterling had referenced in his press materials. Documents that had never left the executive floor. Documents that only twelve people had access to."I've narrowed it to four," David said. "Based on access logs and timing.""Who?""Patricia. James. Harold." He paused. "And Victoria's husband has a contact inside our IT department we only just identified."I looked at the list. Patricia had been with me for ten years. James was my brother. Harold had built this company alongside me for seventeen years. And Richard Sterling had apparently been more organized about this than I'd given him credit for."Pull Sterling's IT contact immediately. I want them out of the building today.""Already done. But that doesn't tell us who inside gave Sterling the document access in the first place." David folded his ha