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Chapter 2: The Offer
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2025-06-11 19:38:52Ava stared at the ceiling of her tiny dorm room, the contract spread open on her bed like a monster baring its teeth.
She’d read it twice. Then a third time. And now she was just… lying there, hoping it would evaporate if she ignored it long enough.
But it didn’t.
Clause 4B: “No public display of affection unless requested by Mr. Wolfe for press-related appearances.”
Clause 7C: “All matters related to marital intimacy are strictly prohibited unless mutually agreed upon in writing.”
Clause 10A: “Early termination of the contract by either party results in a $250,000 penalty.”
She rolled over and groaned. “What the hell am I even considering?”
The fluorescent light above flickered, echoing her mood. Her roommate was out for the weekend thank God because how was she supposed to explain this?
Fake marriage. To a billionaire. For money.
It sounded like a plot from the kind of romance novels she secretly binged on during midterms. The difference? She was living it and there was no guarantee of a happy ending.
Her phone vibrated.
Grayson Wolfe: I expect your answer by 10 AM tomorrow. Don’t waste my time, Ava.
Cold. Direct. Infuriating.
She tossed the phone aside, biting her lip hard enough to sting. “He could’ve at least said please.”
But deep down, she knew what scared her wasn’t the contract.
It was the thought of saying yes… and what that meant. What it would cost her not just in rules, but in parts of herself she wasn’t sure she could keep locked away.
The Next Day
The elevator ride felt like an ascent into another universe floor 46 of the infamous Wolfe Tower. Everything smelled of money. Even the silence had a price tag.
She stepped out and was immediately greeted by two stern-faced men in suits who scanned her ID. Again.
Security scan one.
Security scan two.
Retinal scan three.
Seriously, was she applying to be his wife or to hack into the Pentagon?
Finally, the double glass doors opened to reveal a sprawling penthouse office with floor-to-ceiling windows and a skyline view that made her gasp.
And there he was.
Grayson Wolfe. Real-life billionaire. And apparently, the man who thought marriage was just another business deal.
He sat behind a desk that looked like it cost more than her tuition for four years. He didn’t stand when she walked in. Didn’t smile either. Just observed her cool, calculated, like a man assessing a stock before buying.
“So,” Ava said, walking in. “You’re the sponsor.”
“I’m the solution,” he replied, fingers steepled like a Bond villain.
Ava raised a brow. “Do you always introduce yourself like a walking red flag?”
A pause. Then, unexpectedly, a soft chuckle. “You’re not what I expected.”
“Neither are you,” she said coolly. “I thought you’d be older. And meaner.”
“Oh, I’m mean,” he said smoothly. “You just haven’t earned it yet.”
Ava blinked. “Wow. Do girls actually fall for that?”
“They usually fall for the black card,” he said, reaching for a leather folder on his desk. “Let’s be clear. You need money. I need a favor. This isn’t a romance novel. It’s a contract.”
She crossed her arms. “You’re not going to, like, boss me around and call me your ‘little wife’?”
He smirked. “Not unless you’re into that.”
Ava’s cheeks flushed. Infuriating. Absolutely insufferable. But also… infuriatingly hot.
She cleared her throat. “Why marriage? Why not just donate like a normal billionaire?”
He didn’t answer right away. His eyes lingered on her just a moment longer than necessary.
“It’s complicated,” he said finally.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’ll get today.”
Ava studied him. This man wasn’t just rich he was dangerous. Not in the gun-slinging, mafia kind of way, but in the way a chess master is dangerous. He wasn’t playing with her. He was playing around her.
“You must really hate dating,” she muttered.
“I hate wasting time.”
“And what am I?”
He stood, walking toward her with quiet confidence. “A risk I’m willing to take.”
Her breath hitched. Up close, he was taller than she expected. Sharper. Like a sculpture come to life.
“This is temporary,” she said, more to herself than him.
“One year. No longer.”
“No… funny business.”
He smirked. “Only if you start it.”
And just like that, she knew this wasn’t going to be simple. It wasn’t just a contract. It was the beginning of a storm.
And she had just agreed to stand in the middle of it
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Married to my Arrogant Sponsor Chapter 12: The muzzle
Ava didn’t sleep.The burner phone sat on the windowsill like a ticking bomb, dimly lit by the soft lavender hue of dawn. She had stared at the photo until her eyes ached Marcus, caught mid-step in what looked like a hotel lobby. Not suspicious. Not dramatic. Just… placed. Like a chess piece nudged into position by invisible fingers.The note scribbled on the back haunted her more than the image itself.“He’s not who you think.”She flipped it over again. Again. Again. Every time hoping the words would blur into meaninglessness. But they didn’t.By 5 a.m., she’d saved Marcus’ contact under “Don’t Call” and then, twenty minutes later, restored it like a guilty confession. She hated what she was becoming: paranoid, obsessive, uncertain. Or maybe she hated realizing she was exactly what Grayson had wanted all along.A woman uncertain of her reality.A puppet deciding whether she still had strings.The phone buzzed at 6:02 a.m. sharp.Marcus Hale.She let it ring three times before answer
Married to my Arrogant Sponsor Chapter 11: The Fixer
The building was nondescript gray glass, rusting nameplate, no receptionist. Ava almost walked past it. But the badge Marcus had given her worked on the side entrance, and as the lock clicked open, she felt the weight of another decision she couldn’t undo.Elena Grant.The name echoed in her mind like a half-remembered warning. The former fixer of Wolfe International. The woman who once cleaned up Grayson’s messes… and now might be the only one willing to expose them.The hallway was quiet. Clinical. Fluorescent lights flickered like dying stars. She followed the office number etched on the corner of the envelope.Room 214.Ava knocked.No answer.She tried again, softer this time. And then the door creaked open.The woman behind the desk was younger than she’d expected. Early forties, but tired. Not tired in the way Ava was but hollow, like something had been taken from her and never returned.“Elena Grant?” Ava asked.The woman froze. Her fingers tightened on a half-drunk cup of cof
Married to my Arrogant Sponsor Chapter 10: The Witness
There were two versions of Ava Grace Sinclair.The first was the girl who walked blindly into a marriage she didn’t fully understand.The second sat now in front of a cracked screen, burner phone in one hand, and a name on her lips like a whispered rebellion.Marcus Hale.She stared at the email Vanessa had sent unsigned, untraceable but definitely her. The subject line read like a dare: He knows where the skeletons are buried. Use him wisely.Ava hadn’t responded. Not yet. She didn’t trust Vanessa, not completely, but she trusted what fear looked like in a woman’s eyes. And Vanessa hadn’t just looked scared she’d looked haunted.The same way Ava felt.She leaned back against the windowpane, the city humming quietly beneath her. This version of her was quieter, sharper. Less emotional, more precise. There wasn’t time for panic anymore not with Clause 17 hanging over her like a noose with velvet trim.And now… a witness.Or something close to it.By noon, Ava had made the decision.
Married to my Arrogant Sponsor Chapter 9: Clause 17
It had been twenty-four hours since Ava read Clause 17.Twenty-four hours since her world tilted on its axis.She hadn’t spoken to Grayson since.She couldn’t. Not yet.Not until she figured out what the hell she’d gotten herself into.The morning sun poured through the bedroom windows like nothing was wrong like the universe hadn’t just flipped her reality inside out. She sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers brushing against the velvet folder that still held the contract.Grayson had gone to the gym. Or maybe to hell. She didn’t care.The house was quiet too quiet. The staff avoided her gaze. Even Luisa, the housekeeper who usually smiled and offered fresh croissants, had only nodded, eyes darting away like she knew too much.Ava opened the folder again.Clause 17.She could still hear her own voice reading it aloud the night before:“In the event of emotional entanglement, Party B (Ava Sinclair) shall submit to full confidentiality protocols as deemed appropriate by Party A (Gray
Married to my Arrogant Sponsor Chapter 8: The voice note
12:01 a.m.Ava’s phone buzzed.Blocked number.No name.Just a single voice note.She sat up slowly, the blue glow of the screen casting eerie shadows across the bedroom walls. Her heart thrummed not from fear exactly, but from that gut-deep knowing. That sick pull in her stomach that whispered:Nothing good comes after midnight.Her finger hovered over the play button.Then, she tapped it.“They’re setting you up, Ava.The envelope was just the beginning.Check Grayson’s second phone.The black one. Top drawer. Behind the sweaters.”The voice was scrambled, digitized like something out of a crime thriller. Male. Cold. Distorted beyond recognition.But chillingly certain.She blinked, trying to breathe. Second phone? Sweaters?Without thinking, she tossed the duvet aside and padded to the door barefoot.The Wolfe estate was swallowed in silence. The long hallway stretched out like a tunnel of secrets, dimly lit by antique sconces that flickered with every shift of the night wind.Gray
Married to my Arrogant Sponsor Chapter 7: The Envelope
It had been three days since the dinner with Edward Wolfe.Ava had braced herself for the fallout. She expected Grayson to explode behind closed doors. Maybe for Edward to call her bluff outright. Or Vanessa to show up, claws out.But none of that happened.Grayson… didn’t even mention it.He was calm. Polite. Occasionally even charming in that subtle, unnerving way that made her question whether he was truly fine or just too used to hiding behind a mask.And honestly, that scared her more than any argument.Because silence? Silence always meant something was coming.So when Ava came downstairs Thursday morning and saw a single black envelope sitting neatly on the hallway console, she froze.There was no name on it. No fancy wax seal. Just her initials A.M. written in soft silver ink.Her breath caught.She glanced around. No one. No sound of staff walking by. Just the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.Grayson had left early for a board meeting. She was alone.With slow
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