4

Adrienne had perfected the art of control—

Or so, she thought.

Tonight was supposed to be like any other: dazzling her client with practised confidence and seduction sharpened into an art form. But when the door opened, it wasn't another lonely magnate or desperate heir.

It was Alexander Devereux.

Her boss.

Her billionaire.

The one man who could never discover the truth.

And the way he was looking at her now?

Adrienne knew she might not leave untouched.

She arched her back slightly as Alexander strode toward her, every step slow, deliberate, and calculating.

This Alexander was different tonight—still intimidating, still dangerous, but carrying something new in the way he watched her.

Adrienne held his gaze. She could handle him. She could handle anyone.

"You keep to time, Mr…?" she said lightly, tilting her head just so, softening her features into practised perfection.

Her green eyes lingered on his, bright with false ease.

Alexander's sharp blue gaze scanned the woman before him. There was something about her—something daring that had made him choose her from the list that was offered. She seemed perfect for his purpose.

For a fleeting moment, her eyes sparked a strange familiarity. He pushed the thought aside.

"You can call me Alex." His voice was low, magnetic.

He sat down beside her, crossing his legs with an ease that momentarily unbalanced her. Adrienne felt the shift inside herself—intimidation—but quickly smothered it, clearing her throat and inching ever so slightly away.

She already felt exposed under his scrutiny. Too exposed. And there were still four long hours to go. She needed every ounce of focus to keep her secret intact. One slip, and everything she'd built would collapse.

"What's your name?" Alexander asked, his gaze never wavering.

Adrienne's lips curved into a slow, seductive smile.

"I'm Adrienne. Your escort for tonight."

Alexander nodded slightly, his expression unreadable.

"I need your real name. Not your disguise name."

His eyes narrowed, his tone calm yet cutting, as if he were peeling back layers she had carefully built.

Adrienne froze. Her fingers trembled on her lap before she could stop them. Her posture slipped for a second, and the practised poise faltered as his words sank in.

It couldn't be. My disguise was perfect. No one would ever know.

Her throat tightened, and she was tempted—so tempted—to bite her lower lip, Adrian's nervous habit. But Adrienne wasn't nervous. Adrienne never broke.

So instead, she chuckled softly, the sound smooth as silk. Her gaze slid away from his piercing blue eyes in a deliberate, hypnotic trail. "I understand what you mean, Alex…"

Her hand landed lightly on his knee, painted nails gleaming a deadly red under the lamp's glow. "But I'm not like the other girls you've met. I'm… different."

She smiled then, soft and innocent, though her stomach churned with cold anxiety beneath it.

Alexander tilted his head, studying her with unnerving intensity. His hand closed over hers, firm and warm, anchoring her fingers against his thigh. "How different, Adrienne?"

Their eyes locked. In that silence hung suspicion, curiosity, and something far more dangerous.

Adrienne's lips curved into a calm smile, her tone airy but deliberate. "I'm not like the others—two-faced, saying one thing and meaning another. I keep it real, Alex. Believe me, Adrienne is my name. Not an alias."

She leaned back, pulling her hand away as gracefully as she'd placed it, and her confidence swelled just enough when she saw the flicker of belief pass through his gaze.

Alexander gave a short nod. "Alright, Adrienne. Nice to meet you."

He extended his hand.

Her stomach clenched. She couldn't hesitate—not without suspicion. So Adrienne slipped her delicate hand into his much larger one, their contact brief, her withdrawal immediate.

Yet in that moment, a strange tingle shot through her spine, a dangerous thrill that left her insides shuddering.

Alexander is dangerous. I shouldn't be touching him.

She drew in a subtle breath, recomposing. "So… what do you need me for tonight?" Her voice was steady, though her mind raced.

What could Alexander Devereux, the untouchable billionaire, possibly want with an escort?

Alexander didn't blink. "Do you provide intimate services?"

The bluntness hit her like a slap. Adrienne's body stilled again, the second freeze of the night.

He was unreadable, wrapped in mystery. His next move was impossible to predict.

A knock at the door spared her reply. A staff member entered swiftly, placing down a chilled bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Here's your drink, sir, ma'am," he said politely before vanishing.

Adrienne's throat went dry. She never drank on duty. Adrian didn't drink either. Alcohol blurred the mind, loosened the tongue. One glass, and her entire life could unravel.

"I'll pour you a drink, s—Alex." She caught herself just before calling him sir.

But Alexander reached out, halting her hand. His gaze never left her. "You didn't answer my question. Do you provide intimate services?"

Her breath hitched, her chest rising as she steadied herself. Enough of this cat-and-mouse. If he wanted games, she could play harder.

With deliberate grace, she shifted closer, her hand sliding up the inside of his thigh. Her body leaned into his, pressing lightly against him—just enough for the swell of her silicone curves to brush his side.

Her lips hovered near his ear. "Alex…" she whispered, her voice rich with sultry promise. "You booked me for four hours. Is intimacy what you seek… or company?"

Alexander stiffened. He hadn't expected her to pivot so sharply. The warmth of her breath against his skin sent a jolt through him, sharp and inconvenient. He ignored it—or tried to.

He turned his face toward hers, their lips an inch apart. "Are you offering, Adrienne?" His fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

A dangerous smile curled at her lips, fire flickering in her eyes. She was every bit the perfect illusion.

"I've never provided intimacy, Alex. But it's part of my job… if the client insists." She let her gaze drift lazily over his face, catching the edge of her bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it. "Of course… intimacy has its price. A very… pricey one."

She winked, then slipped from his hold, reclaiming her distance.

Alexander chuckled, low and unexpected. He shook his head at himself. What am I doing? This isn't why I'm here.

He poured the wine himself, sliding a glass toward her.

Adrienne touched it, only to lower it untouched. "I'm sorry. I don't drink on duty. I'm here to keep you company… to talk about whatever you'd like."

Alexander studied her, unreadable as ever, then leaned back. "Alright. Then I'll go straight to the point."

Adrienne straightened, her heartbeat quickening. Finally, the truth.

He sipped his wine, swirling it with effortless grace. His voice was smooth, almost casual. "I do need intimacy. But not the kind you just offered."

Her brows furrowed slightly. "Then what do you want, Alexander?"

His eyes, sharp and businesslike, locked on hers. And she knew—knew—that whatever came next would unravel her.

He set his glass down, leaned forward, and said simply:

"Marry me."

The world stopped.

Adrienne's breath caught, nearly breaking into Adrian's startled tone. "What?!"

Her eyes widened, her heart pounding like a drum. This can't be real.

Everything was wrong. Escorts weren't allowed to have relationships. Her cover was already at its thinnest thread. And she—he—wasn't even a woman. If Alexander found out… she would lose everything.

Alexander's voice softened, dropping lower. "Relax. You look tense." His hand fell to her thigh.

Adrienne forced a smile, gently moving his hand away. "It's fine. I'm fine. I'm sorry for overreacting. But I have to refuse. Escorts don't—"

"I've already discussed it with your boss." His interruption was calm, merciless. "He approved, as long as I paid what was asked. Which I have."

He leaned closer, eyes sharp. "So if you refuse… you're not just rejecting me. You're defying your boss. Do you want that, Adrienne?"

Her brows furrowed, a rare crack in her flawless mask. "You… paid my boss to marry me?"

Her voice was low, tinged with restrained fury.

Inside, Adrienne was seething. Men. Always thinking women could be purchased, bartered like property.

And deeper inside, Adrian burned hotter. So this is who Alexander truly is. Calculating. Ruthless. Cold enough to buy marriage as though it were a contract.

Alexander didn't flinch under her glare. He sipped his wine again, as if this were a business negotiation.

"You don't have to answer now," he said evenly. "But you have three nights to act as my girlfriend. On the fourth day, we marry."

He placed his glass down with finality, his voice low and steady. "That's my offer."

Adrienne's pulse roared in her ears. For the first time in years, her carefully constructed control threatened to break.

And for the first time in her life… she wasn't sure if she could win this game.

Alexander stood, his shadow hovering over Adrienne's perplexed figure.

"Reach out to me before tomorrow night, and we can draft out the contract." He placed a business card on the table, beside his now empty glass of wine.

"I hear your mother needs money for treatment. You wouldn't have to worry about that anymore if… you marry me." With that, Alexander turned and strode out of the room as confidently as he came, leaving Adrienne emotionally disorganised.