༶•┈┈❦ Cold Eyes, Spark Of Trouble  ❦┈┈•༶

 ✦ ❦ ✦ Selena Pov ✦ ❦ ✦

The assistant stopped in front of massive double doors. "Mr. Kingland will see you now. Be direct. He doesn't like wasting time." 

I flashed her a quick smile. "Don't worry. I don't either." 

She opened the door and I stepped inside. 

The office was huge, like a penthouse-level huge. Dark wood desks that probably cost more than my entire apartment, leather chairs that looked like they cost thousands each, a wall of screens showing stock numbers and city views in real-time. Floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides showed off that same glittering skyline. This room screamed money. Old money. The kind that wasn't trying to impress anyone because it didn't have to. 

Behind the desk sat Matthew Kingland in all his intimidating glory. 

Six-foot-three, blonde hair perfectly styled like he'd stepped out of a luxury magazine, piercing grey eyes that looked cold enough to freeze you in place, sharp jawline, and a tailored suit that screamed "I own everything you see." There was a small dark scar near his left eyebrow — probably a birthmark that made him look even more dangerous. Like he'd survived something and it had marked him. 

He didn't stand up. Didn't offer his hand. Just looked at me like I was another item on his to-do list. Another business problem to solve. 

"Selena Jesus," he said, voice deep and cold. No greeting, no smile. "Sit." 

I walked over slowly, letting my hips sway just enough to be noticeable but not obvious, and dropped into the chair across from him like I belonged there. I'd worn these heels for a reason — they made me feel powerful, made me taller, made me look like I could afford to be here. I crossed my legs, leaned back a little, and met his stare head-on. 

"Nice office," I said, glancing around like I was appraising it. Because I was. The lighting, the minimalist design, the view — this was content-worthy. My girls were going to flip when I started posting from here. "You bring all your future fake wives up here or am I special?" 

His eyebrow twitched — the scarred one. Like I'd said something that caught him off-guard. 

"This is a business arrangement, Miss Jesus," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Not a date. The contract is for one year. Public appearances only when required. Separate living quarters. No emotional involvement. No questions about my personal life. In return, I cover all your needs during the year and pay ten million dollars at the end. Any violation and you get nothing. Understand?" 

I studied him for a second. Handsome, yeah, but that detached energy? It did nothing for me. This was just business. "very  clear. I'm not here looking for a husband either, Mr. Kingland. I got my own reasons for this. As long as the money hits my account and I can move freely all the time, we are good." 

"Move freely," he repeated, like the phrase amused him somehow. "You understand you'll be living in my mansion? That won't exactly be freedom." 

"I understand I'll be living in luxury," I corrected. "That's different. And a mansion? Girl, I've been saving screenshots of interiors for years. A year in a mansion sounds like a dream, honestly." 

He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing like he was trying to read me. Like he was confused by my lack of desperation. "You seem… ungrateful and unbothered." 

I shrugged, flashing a small smirk. "Grateful? For a job? Nah. This is transactional business. I do my part, you do yours. Simple." Inside, I was already calculating the aesthetic. The mansion's decor, the way the light would hit at different times of day, what kind of outfit changes I could pull off for content. A year of living in a billionaire's mansion? My engagement would go crazy. 

He slid a thick folder across the desk. "Review the terms. Sign if you agree. The wedding is in two weeks." 

Before I could flip open the folder, the door opened again without a knock. 

In walked a man who made the whole room feel different. 

Taller than Matthew but leaner, with dark hair, warm brown eyes, and an easy confidence that hit different. Alexander Kingland — I'd recognized him from the quick research I did last night. Matthew's cousin. And damn… the spark hit me instantly. A warm flutter low in my stomach, like someone had just turned up the heat in the room. My heart picked up speed. He was fine as hell, and the way he carried himself? Different from Matthew's frost. More alive. More real. 

Alexander's eyes landed on me and lingered for a beat longer than professional. A slow smile curved his lips like he was genuinely happy to see whoever this was. 

"Sorry to interrupt, cousin. Didn't know you had company," he said, and his voice had warmth in it. Actual warmth. Not the robotic coldness Matthew used. 

Matthew's jaw tightened visibly. I could see it from where I sat — the muscle in his cheek working, his grip tightening on his pen. "This is Selena Jesus. My… future wife. Selena, Alexander — my cousin." 

The way he said it "future wife" sounded like the words tasted bad in his mouth. 

I stood up smoothly, extending my hand, keeping my face cool even though my pulse was racing. *Stay chill, Selena. Don't make it obvious.* "Nice to meet you, Alexander." 

His hand was warm and strong around mine. Firm but not aggressive. The touch lasted a second longer than necessary, and I could feel the difference between his energy and Matthew's immediately. Where Matthew was all sharp edges and control, Alexander was comfortable. Easy. Like he didn't need to prove anything. 

"Welcome to the madness," he said, his smile widening. "If my cousin gives you any trouble, you know where to find me." 

I laughed lightly, the sound natural and unforced. But at the same time, I was cataloging this moment. Alexander Kingland was exactly the kind of person who looked good in luxury settings. The kind of person who made other people look good just by standing next to them. 

"Noted. I can handle trouble, but it's good to know there's backup." 

He held my gaze for just a second longer than necessary, his warm brown eyes doing something that made my stomach do a little flip. Then he glanced at Matthew, and I saw something changed in his expression like he had just realized something about the situation. 

"Of course," he said, his tone still warm but with an edge of amusement now. "Miss Selena … enjoy your time with the family." 

He left, but the energy he brought stayed in the room like electricity. Like the air was still humming with something that wasn't there a minute ago. 

I sat back down, trying to focus on the contract pages, but my mind kept drifting to that smile, those eyes, the way his hand had felt warm around mine. *Crush alert. But keep it locked, girl. Money first.* Still, the little flutter didn't go away. 

Matthew watched me like a hawk. His eyes were tracking my face, watching for reactions. "Something wrong?" His tone was colder now, almost annoyed. Like my smile at Alexander had flipped a switch. 

I looked up, innocent. "Nope. Just making sure I'm not signing away my soul. Looks good." I picked up the pen and signed with a flourish. Selena Jesus in my best cursive, committing myself to a year of luxury, a year of content, a year of showing my girls that I had made it. I slid the folder back across the desk. "There. One year. Let's make it painless." 

He stared at my signature for a long moment, then at me. Something in his grey eyes changed from indifference to something else. Challenge? Interest? Like he'd just realized I wasn't going to melt for him. And that seemed to bother him more than he wanted to show. His jaw was still tight. 

"Two weeks," he repeated, his voice even colder than before. "My team will handle everything. You will move into the mansion after the wedding. Try to act like a wife in public." 

I stood up, smoothing my top, checking my reflection in the black of his desk, still looking good like I belonged in spaces like this. 

"Act. Got it. I'm good at that." 

I headed for the door, then paused and glanced back with a small, sharp smile. One that I could already feel making his expression darker. 

"By the way, your cousin seems way more fun. Just saying." 

I closed the door behind me before he could respond, heart racing from both the contract and that unexpected spark with Alexander. This was really happening. 

Two weeks until I became Mrs. Selena Kingland, and start living the life my I*******m followers had been dying to see.

                 ༺✿༻ ༺✿༻ 

Down in the lobby, I called Isabelle immediately. 

"Girl… I signed. And listen — Matthew is fine but cold as hell. Like a refrigerator cold. But his cousin?" I was already walking toward the glass doors, the California sun hitting me as I stepped outside. "Oh my fucking Jesus Christ, he's got this unexplainable instant vibes. I'm keeping it cool though. Money first. Then everything else becomes background noise." 

Isabelle screamed on the other end. "Selena! You better be careful. This sounds like a drama waiting to happen." 

"Drama? Maybe," I said, pulling out my phone to take a mirror selfie in the Kingland Tower lobby's reflection. The lighting was perfect. "But I got this. Two weeks until I'm living in a billionaire's mansion. One year of luxury, content, and ten million reasons not to care about anything else. Everything else is just background noise." 

I posted the selfie with the caption: "New energy unlocked 💅✨ Two weeks till everything changes." 

Little did I know how loud that background noise was about to get.