LOGINCara Bennett has exactly three rules. Never ask for help. Never show weakness. And never, under any circumstances, trust a man with money. At twenty-four, she is surviving — barely. Waitressing double shifts in London to keep the lights on and her mother's medical bills from swallowing her whole. No savings. No backup plan. No room for mistakes. Then she spills coffee on Ethan Blackwood. He is cold, impossibly wealthy, and used to people falling over themselves to please him. So when Cara walks away without a single apology, he notices. And when his dying grandfather threatens to strip him of everything he has built unless he presents a fiancée within six weeks, Ethan does something he has never done before. He makes her an offer she cannot refuse. Six weeks. One performance. £500,000. Cara tells herself it is simple. Smile at his family. Wear the ring. Take the money. Walk away. But Ethan's family is nothing like she expected. Warm. Genuine. The kind of people who make her forget this was never real. And Ethan himself is nothing like the cold man he pretends to be. The problem isn't pretending to love him in front of his family. The problem is stopping when the six weeks are over.
View MoreHe was still there in the morning.Cara saw the car from the kitchen window at five forty-five while the kettle boiled. Same spot. Same black Mercedes. She stood very still for a moment with her hands wrapped around an empty mug.Then she pulled on her coat over her pyjamas, pushed her feet into her shoes without untying them, and went downstairs.The cold hit her at the door. Proper November cold now, the kind that meant business.She knocked on the passenger window.It came down.Ethan looked at her. Hair slightly dishevelled for the first time since she had known him. Collar open. The particular stillness of someone who had been awake a long time and had made peace with it."You slept in your car," she said."I didn't sleep.""Ethan.""James's man was parked two streets over until one in the morning," he said. "I wanted to make sure he didn't come back."Cara stared at him."You sat outside my building all night.""Yes.""Because of James's photographer.""Yes."She looked at him f
The message came on Tuesday morning.Cara was between shifts, sitting in the back room of the café with her coat still on and a sandwich she hadn't started eating, when her phone buzzed.Unknown number.She almost ignored it.I think we should talk. — James BlackwoodShe looked at it for a long moment.Then she put her phone face down on the table and picked up her sandwich.He messaged again at three.It's not a threat. I just have some information I think you should be aware of.And again at six.I'm trying to help you, Cara.She didn't respond to any of them.Instead she called Ethan.He picked up on the second ring which she was learning was characteristic. He was either completely unreachable or immediately available. No in between."James messaged me," she said.A pause."When?""Three times today. Unknown number but he signed them.""What did he say?"She read them out.Ethan was quiet for a moment that felt carefully controlled."Don't respond," he said."I wasn't going to.""
They left the Cotswolds on Sunday afternoon.Eleanor hugged Cara at the door for a long time. Long enough that Cara had to concentrate on her breathing to stay composed. Sophie waved from the window. The dog sat at Eleanor's feet and watched the car until it disappeared around the bend in the road.James stood on the front steps with his hands in his pockets.He didn't wave.The drive back to London was quiet for the first hour.Ethan worked on his phone. Cara watched the countryside flatten gradually back into motorway and then into suburbs and then into the familiar grey press of the city reassembling itself around them.She had been thinking about James since breakfast."Your brother knows something is off," she said.Ethan didn't look up from his phone."James always thinks something is off.""This is different." She turned from the window. "He wasn't just suspicious. He was calculating. Running through something specific in his head."Ethan set his phone down."What makes you say
Cara woke before six.Old habit. Her body didn't know how to sleep past it regardless of where she was or what the day required. She lay still for a moment, looking at the ceiling of the guest suite, listening to the particular silence of the countryside — thick and complete in a way London never was.The other bed was empty.She didn't know when Ethan had left it. He had been there when she finally closed her eyes, lying on his back in the dark, one arm behind his head, breathing evenly. She had been aware of him the way you were aware of something you were pretending not to be aware of.She sat up and pulled his jacket from the chair beside the bed.She had brought it inside without thinking. Without giving it back.She set it down and went to wash her face.The kitchen was at the back of the house, overlooking the garden they had walked through the night before. In daylight it was wilder than she had realized. An old apple tree in the corner. Stone walls covered in the skeletal rem






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