Chapter 5

Zaria's POV

"No way," I said, staring at the paper in my hand.

"Are you insane?"

Niko didn't even blink. He just leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest like we were talking about the weather and not some ridiculous, fake arrangement. Literally what the hell was going on in his head? How does he have this on standby?

"Read the whole thing, Zaria."

"I don't need to read the whole thing," I scoffed, tossing the folded paper back onto the marble top. It hit the surface with a soft slap.

"This is completely absurd. What is this, some kind of trashy soap opera? You want me to play house with you? Act like your girlfriend for thirty days?"

"We don't have to label it anything crazy," he said, his voice annoyingly calm. "It's a business transaction. You need money. I need the league off my back for thirty days so they don't terminate my contract. You sit at a few games, hold my hand in front of the cameras, and I make sure your mom gets every single cent she needs."

My hands twitched into fists at my sides. The sheer nerve of this man was mind-blowing. Ever since I dragged my bags into this apartment last night, he had done nothing but treat my pain like a joke. He laughed in my face while I was sobbing on the bed, mocked me while making eggs, and talked down to me like I was some desperate charity case.

"You know I just left a relationship," I spat, "And I'm not that desperate—"

"No but you are, broke, homeless and poor." The bastard stated. "And no one is asking you to own your heart and believe in true love kiss, I just need you to act."

Wow. "So because I'm not on my feet financially, you think you can just buy me?" I asked, my voice rising. I stepped closer to the counter, glaring straight into his stupid, handsome face.

Wait. No, ugly face! Because mean guys like him are ugly!

"You think because my life fell apart yesterday, I'm just going to bend over backward and pretend to be enamored with an arrogant jerk like you?"

Niko sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never said you were a charity case, Zaria."

"You don't have to say it! Look at you!" I gestured wildly at him, at his neat suit, at the pristine apartment, at the easy way he stood there like nothing in the world could ever hurt him.

"You've been condescending since the second I walked through that door. Laughing at me, making fun of my heartbreak, and now you slide a piece of paper across the counter like you're saving my life. I don't need your money. And I damn sure don't need you."

"It's practical," he said, his tone still even, though a tiny muscle in his jaw twitched. That was the only sign that he was even remotely frustrated.

"You were just on the phone worrying about how to pay your mom's bills. I'm offering a solution that solves both our problems. Nobody is asking you to fall in love with me. Just look like you don't hate my guts when a camera flashes."

"Well, I do hate your guts," I snapped. "So the acting job would be entirely too hard."

I turned on my heel, grabbed my coat from the rack by the door, and shoved my feet into my shoes. My heart was hammering against my ribs, hot anger racing through my veins.

"Zaria, don't be stupid," Niko called out from the kitchen. "Just think about it."

"Go to hell, Volkov," I yelled back, slamming the front door behind me so hard the frame rattled.

The cold air hit my face the second I stepped out of the building, instantly chilling the hot tears trapped in my eyes. I blinked them back fiercely, wrapping my coat tighter around myself as I stomped down the sidewalk toward the bus stop.

The nerve of him. The absolute, unadulterated nerve.

I pulled out my phone and aggressively opened my browser, searching for any open job listings in the city. Administrative assistant, waitress, retail worker, front desk receptionist,I didn't care.

I applied to three different positions right there on the frozen sidewalk, my thumbs flying across the screen until they were numb from the cold.

I was never going to depend on a man again.

Ever. I had given four years of my life to Callum. I cooked his meals, cleaned his apartment,

managed his schedule, and bent my entire world around his needs, only for him to throw me out on the street and tell me no man would ever want me.

And now Niko Volkov thought he could use my rock-bottom moment to fix his own reputation?

Not a chance. I was going to find a job, earn my own money, pay my mother's medical expenses myself, and move into my own place.

I didn't need Callum, I don't need Niko, and I sure as hell don't need some fake thirty-day relationship to survive.

Three hours later, the fire in my chest had died down to a dull, aching exhaustion.

Job hunting in the middle of a random Tuesday when you have no appointment and no notice is a special kind of humiliation.

I walked into four different cafes and two retail shops downtown.

Three of them told me they weren't hiring, one handed me a paper application that looked like it had been sitting in a drawer since 2018, and the manager at a local diner looked at my smeared mascara and wrinkled clothes and asked if I was old enough to work the night shift.

By the time the sun started setting, casting a miserable grey light over the city, my feet were throbbing, my head was pounding, and my bank account was still sitting at a terrifying double-digit number.

I rode the bus back to David's apartment in total silence, staring out the window at the passing streetlights. My phone buzzed in my pocket,a text from my mom asking if the money for her prescription was coming through this week. I stared at the screen until it went black, unable to type out an answer.

I let myself into the apartment quietly.

The kitchen was empty. The folded piece of paper Niko had given me was gone from the counter, but a quiet light was shining from under his bedroom door down the hall. He was in there.

Probably completely unbothered, probably sleeping fine, while my whole life was burning down around me.

I crept into the spare room, shut the door, and collapsed face-first onto the mattress without even taking off my coat.

A loud, muffled groan escaped my throat into the pillow.

I rolled over onto my back and stared at the plain white ceiling, my mind racing at a million miles an hour. My mom needed that money by Friday. If she missed her medication, her health would drop instantly, and she'd end up back in the hospital, which meant even bigger bills that neither of us could pay. And my own savings? Gone. Wiped out from trying to keep up with Callum's lifestyle for the past year.

I closed my eyes and covered my face with both hands.

It was just thirty days. Just thirty days of pretending to like a guy who annoyed the absolute life out of me. It was fake. It didn't mean anything. No actual feelings, no actual commitment, no chance of getting my heart crushed into a million pieces like Callum did. It was just a contract.

No, Zaria, no! I thought to myself, kicking my legs against the bed in frustration. You said you wouldn't rely on a man! You said you were better than this!

I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my chin on them. But the harsh truth was sitting right there in the dark room with me. I didn't have thirty days to wait for a job interview. I didn't even have seven days. My mom needed help now, and I was running out of options fast.

I looked toward the bedroom door. I knew I'd have to face him in the morning. I knew he'd be sitting at that kitchen counter, drinking his coffee, waiting for me to break.

I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face in my hands again, hating the world, hating my life, and most of all, hating Nikolai Volkov for being the only lifeline I had left.