Chapter One

My heart pounded like a scared rabbit, torn between two voices debating in my head. One voice whispered, "Don't sign this contract. You're surrendering your soul to the devil.."

The other yelled, "This is your chance to escape poverty. Three million dollars is more than enough to change your life!" 

Dizzy and sweating, I pinched my eyes shut, almost choking on my breath. Was I prepared to give up three months of freedom to become a billionaire's fake and pregnant girlfriend?

The lawyer's face was cold and he tapped his watch impatiently.

"You have five minutes to sign the contract, or else the offer will be withdrawn. Be grateful you were picked. There are lots of better-looking women willing to  jump on this opportunity."

"Can I please speak to my friend Dani?"

He didn't answer but glared at me with disgust. I swallowed my fear. 

Dani was the brain behind this. We went to high school together here in Alaska but she moved to LA shortly afterward to chase her acting dreams.Unfortunately, it wasn't happening and she was stuck waitressing part-time for now. 

A month ago precisely on Valentine's Day, I called her on the phone weeping my eyes out after I caught my boyfriend Drake mounting a woman old enough to be my grandmother.

"Oh thank god," Dani cried in excitement ."You have finally seen the light, Mimi. I've always known that cunt lapping boyfriend of yours was up to no good. Now suck it up because I have good news."

I listened to her rambling about a secret gig where a billionaire required a contract girlfriend in exchange for three million dollars. 

I laughed at first, wishing her good luck and telling her that I could never risk my life by getting involved with a stranger.

Dani kept on pleading and encouraging me. Reluctantly, I gave in.

"Call her and put the phone on speaker," he instructed curtly, making me jump with fright as I dialed Dani's number with shaky hands.

I was so close to getting away from poverty forever, And yet, I couldn't help feeling terrified.

"Miracle, we've come too far for you to change your mind," Dani shouted into the phone when I said I couldn't sign.

She continued rambling. "I wish I had your perfect face, but my wolfish face and disturbing piercings disqualified me. You'd be a fool to throw this golden opportunity out the fence."

"Dani, it feels like I'm signing out my soul. What if something goes wrong during the duration of the contract, and I get thrown into prison? I don't even know who this client is. What if he's a blood-sucking demon? Also, I have to pretend to be pregnant. How will I pull that off?"

"You're such a worry wart with an empty account balance. Sign the contract and get your rusty ass to Beverly Hills in two days or I will never speak to you again."

She paused, then added in a milder tone," Don't worry babe, you'll be fine. You'll have me by your…"

"Time up," the lawyer tapped his watch impatiently once more while eyeing me. "Get to signing."

"Just sign the fucking thing." Dani pleaded and I sighed in defeat.

"Fine, but I swear on my mom's grave that if anything happens to me, my ghost will haunt you forever."

"Crush me with a car, stab me with a knife, do whatever you like, just sign."

Struggling not to tremble, I signed my name across the line that marked me as an unknown client's face girlfriend.

The lawyer passed me my plane ticket, a form, along with two thousand dollars for an advance payment. 

Two days later, I found myself at the baggage claim area at LAX airport, holding one hand on the new suitcase I got and my other one clasped around my purse. 

"Looking for me?" A familiar voice whistled behind me.  I made a quick turn. Dani, who was nearly twice my height, lifted me like a feather and my poor hip bones threatened to pop right out.

Her smile was replaced with a groan and her eyes bore holes into my jean pants. “Seriously, who wears a woolen sweater and mom jeans in Los fucking Angeles?"

"Was I hired to be a stripper?" 

She rolled her eyes dragging me into a waiting Mercedes which drove out, giving me a view of the stark difference between crowded LA and mountainous Alaska.

“Before we meet the client, you need a total makeover," she said, her hippy mood returning."Your life is about to shift from broke-ass to wealthy."

I nudged her. “Have you seen this client before? What does he look like?”

She shook her head,“He wants the deal to remain hush-hush from his family and friends."

“Now I'm scared. I had to lie to my aunt Suzanne about getting a job at A****n."

Dani rolled her eyes "You're twenty-two years old, Miracle. A full-fledged adult.  You're about to be a millionaire. Forget your aunt and enjoy this opportunity while it lasts.”

____________

After a tiring makeup session, I looked like a dolled-up mannequin splattered with eyeshadow, coats of foundation, highlighter, and hairspray.

I hated every minute I spent on the process. Afterward, my skin felt tight beneath a black mini-dress.

"Must I dress half-naked, Danielle? I bet this client is old and has sagging balls."

Dani winked with mischief. "What if he's not?" 

We headed to Beverly Hills and I gasped at the sight of the mega-mansions, each one bigger and better than the last.

My jaw hit the floor when the car pulled into the circular driveway of a sleek, all-white duplex whose driveway was lined with luxury cars. Never in my wildest dreams would I have pictured myself staring face-to-face at wealth.

My knees buckled as I gawked at the building. "Now I'm super jealous of you,” Dani nudged me. 

"Ah, there you are," a tall, strikingly handsome man with an Irish accent approached us, smiling a little too brightly. "I'm guessing you're Miracle Anne Holmes?"

My heart thudded in my ears. Dani responded, bobbing her head like a bobcat. Was he the client? 

"I'm sorry, miss but you need to leave," he said to Dani while steering me inside. 

"But she's my guarantor," I started protesting. Dani blew me a kiss, promising to call me while the young man tried his best to put me at ease. 

My body felt as if a thousand needles pricked me repeatedly at once, like a sheep led to slaughter. 

"The client will be with you shortly," he said after he successfully dragged me into the waiting room. "I'm Calvin, by the way, his personal assistant."

Restless, my eyes bounced around and I couldn't stop wondering what the client looked like. 

Calvin sat opposite me, running a hand over his perfectly styled hair. "The main contract has been drafted. You know the drill. It's non-disclosure, and you must abide by the rules."

He leaned forward, "I must warn you though, my client isn't a big fan of this, so he might be a bit harsh with his words. All in all,  don't forget the money at stake."

"Is he some kind of demon? And why is he being forced to do this?" I asked warily. Calvin laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

"He's no demon but can be a bit...demanding at times. Don't worry about anything. Just try to keep that in mind and remember that you have me to back you up,"

"Thanks for the reassuring words, "I said flatly, and he winked, checking his smartwatch. 

"He's ready to see you now. Come with me."

I panicked, thanks to my wobbly feet and racing heart. This couldn't be so difficult.

Reaching the top of the stairs, a tall, ash-blonde-haired man in a navy blue jacket backed me. At least he wasn't old, judging from his hair, but my damn knees couldn't stop buckling. 

What if he gets displeased that I’m a wallflower and needs someone more polished? I hesitated for a moment, suddenly feeling very small. 

Then he turned around, his eyes meeting mine, and my poor heart skipped a thousand beats. 

Shoot me!