LOGINShe signed a contract to save her dying mother: $2M for 1 year as a billionaire’s fake wife. No feelings. No touching. No problems. Until *George Herbert* started amending the terms. Move into my penthouse. Come to the board dinner. Sleep in my bed. Now his ex and his rival have proof of their fake marriage. 24 hours to betray him... or lose everything. George caught her meeting them. His punishment? She doesn’t get the guest room anymore. "From now on, you sleep in my bed. If we’re going to lie, we’re going to sell it." Elena wanted money. She didn’t expect the devil to look at her like she was the only thing that mattered. He wanted a contract. He got a woman he can’t live without.
View MoreThe fluorescent lights in St. Mercy Hospital buzzed overhead, and Elena Thomas swore she could hear every single one of them drilling into her skull.
She sat in the waiting area with a manila envelope trembling in her hands, and inside that envelope was a bill that might as well have been a death sentence. $2,340,000. Due by 11:59PM tonight. Her mother, Lillian Thomas, was on the fourth floor in room 412, hooked up to machines that were the only thing keeping stage 4 ovarian cancer from taking her completely. The doctors had said one more round of chemo might buy them another six months. Six months Elena couldn’t afford. Her phone vibrated. It was another declined payment notification from the bank. Her account balance read $342.17. The nurse, a kind woman named Mrs. Adele, stopped in front of her with that practiced look of sympathy that meant bad news. “Miss Thomas, I’m so sorry. Without the payment, we’ll have to discharge Mrs. Thomas by midnight. We just don’t have the beds.” Elena nodded because she didn’t trust herself to speak. If she opened her mouth, she would scream and scream till she blacked out. Her phone rang then. It was an unknown number. She almost ignored it. But on second thought, she answered. “Hello?” “Miss Elena Thomas?” The voice was smooth, professional, male. “This is David. I’m calling on behalf of Mr. George Herbert, CEO of Litdom Group Holdings. The name was not unfamiliar to her. George Herbert. Three years ago, Litdom Group had launched a hostile takeover of her father’s logistics company. They undercut prices, bought out their clients, and within six months Thomas & Sons was nothing but a memory. Her father had a heart attack at 52. The stress killed him. “What does Mr. Herbert want with me?” Elena asked, her voice flat. “Mr. Herbert would like to meet with you this evening. At Black Tower. He has a business proposal that may be of great interest to you. Particularly regarding your mother’s medical situation.” Elena’s blood went cold. “How do you know about my mother?” “Mr. Herbert will explain everything in person. A car will be at your location in 20 minutes. Please don’t be late, Miss Thomas.” The call ended. Twenty-five minutes later, Elena was stepping out of a black Maybach in front of Black Tower, the tallest building in the city, a monument to the kind of wealth that could buy hospitals and ruin families in the blink of an eye.. The assistant led her to the 87th floor. The entire wall was made of glass, and beyond it the city stretched out like it belonged to him. And maybe it did. George Herbert didn’t stand when she entered. Their eyes met the second she stepped in. He had Grey eyes and currently they were pinned on her Elena forgot herself for half a second. "They say the devil is hideous but this devil, she couldn’t look away from, he was a million times more appealing in person". Elena thought in her head and immediately she hated herself as the first thing she noticed was how good he looks. George was seated still in one of the luxurious sofas in his office. He wore a black perfectly tailored suit that fitted him so well, sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. His grey eyes were on her like he was calculating something he was considering buying. She had heard he was unmarried at thirty two he was considered one of the most successful business man in the country. “Miss Thomas,” he said. His voice was low and sent shivers down her spine. “Thank you for coming.” “You said this was about my mother, Elena replied sharply still standing. George finally stood and walked to the bar cart, pouring himself whiskey he didn’t offer her any. Rude. I do my research before I make investments, Elena. he swirled the whiskey; And right now, you are an investment. He sets the glass down. the sound made a loud noise in the quiet office. You may be seated Elena, he continued… You want to know how I know about your mother? He said as he added more whiskey to the glass. Six months ago, Litdom Group acquired St. Mercy Hospital and three other private hospitals in the state. Your mother’s case flagged high risk accounts with no insurance during a financial review of high-cost patients. So from what I know you’re a daughter drowning in debt. Elena felt sick. So you’ve been watching me. I’ve been watching a lot of people, George said simply. But you caught my attention because you have a problem I can solve. And I have a problem I want you to help me solve. He walked to his desk and slid a thick contract across the polished surface. I need a wife. Elena stared at him. Excuse me? For six months, George continued, as if he was discussing the weather. I need a wife for six months to finalize a 10.2 billion dollar merger with the Laurent Group. Their chairman is old-fashioned. He believes a married CEO is a stable CEO. My board agrees. The wedding needs to happen in two weeks, and the marriage needs to look real. Elena laughed, but it was bitter and humorless. “And you thought of me” “W—Why?” She stuttered a bit Because you will be desperate enough to say yes, George said without blinking. And because you are presentable enough that no one will question it. No scandals. No exes. No complications. He flipped the contract open to page seven and tapped it with one long finger. In return, Litdom Group will pay your mother’s entire hospital bill tonight. Full treatment. Best doctors. Private suite. And a 50,000 dollar monthly stipend for you. Elena’s eyes dropped to the page. And we will do everything that a married couple does as stated in the contract Elena leaned forward to read it Clause 7: Marital Obligations. The Wife agrees to cohabitate and fulfill the duties expected of a spouse, including but not limited to public affection and intimacy, with a minimum frequency of three times a week. Her face burned. "You can’t be serious". Her throat burned as she forced the words out. I’m always serious, George said. He stepped closer, and his cologne, something dark and expensive, filled the space between them. I’m offering you a way to save your mother’s life, Elena. All you have to do is sign your name and spend six months in my house as my wife. Everything in her screamed to walk out. This man destroyed her father. Built his empire on the ruins of her family. And now he stood in front of her like a savior offering her a deal with the devil himself. And if I refuse? George didn’t hesitate. Then your mother gets discharged tonight. The words landed like a death sentence. Elena’s breath hitched. For a moment, the room blurred. The glass walls, the city lights, the man in front of her; none of it felt real. All she could see was her mother. Weak, Pale, and smiling through pain she couldn’t hide anymore. Elena looked up at him, and for the first there was no fear in them as she said..... Don't mistake this for trust if i sign this contract. She reached out for it.The dawn broke over Manhattan with a cold, steel-grey drizzle that swept across the glass monoliths of the Financial District. Inside the command center of Litdom group, the atmosphere was taut, clinical, and humming with tactical urgency.Dozens of high-frequency trading terminals blinked with rapid streams of crimson and green data. Financial analysts, forensic accountants, and senior partners from Litdom’s risk management division moved between glass-walled conference rooms with quiet efficiency.At the center of the room stood George Herbert.He was stripped of his tuxedo from the night before, dressed in a crisp dark suit, a single earpiece securely fitted. His grey eyes reflected the glow of three massive screens displaying the real-time order books for Litdom Group, Sterling Global, and European market futures.Beside him stood David, holding an encrypted satellite link to their legal and trading teams in London and Zurich.Sterling Global opened their aggressive short position
The cool midnight air whipping across the private balcony of the Metropolitan Museum provided little relief from the suffocating tension left in the wake of the confrontation. Below, Fifth Avenue stretched out in a ribbon of wet asphalt and blurred yellow taxicabs.George stood at the stone balustrade, his dark velvet jacket unbuttoned, his tie loosened just enough to expose the heavy pulse at the base of his throat. His knuckles were still pale from where he had gripped Julian’s lapel. The icy composure that usually defined George Herbert had been shattered, replaced by a dark, volatile protective instinct that hummed beneath his skin like a live wire.Elena stepped out onto the terrace, the cool night breeze rustling the train of her red silk dress. She watched him for a quiet moment, his broad back set in a rigid line, his grey eyes staring into the dark expanse of Central Park with lethal focus."George," she called softly, her heels clicking against the damp stone floor.He turne
The Metropolitan Museum of Art was transformed into an arena of unrivaled wealth and power for the annual Art & Finance Gala. Beneath the soaring glass ceilings and majestic stone arches of the Temple of Dendur, soft golden light bounced off black-marble display cases, crystal chandeliers, and giant floral installations of dark burgundy orchids.Manhattan’s elite hedge fund billionaires, foreign dignitaries, and high-society patrons mingled over flutes of vintage champagne. Yet, the moment the heavy bronze doors swung open to reveal George and Elena Herbert, a quiet hush swept across the grand hall.George looked formidable in a bespoke black velvet tuxedo, his imposing stature and sharp jawline exuding absolute authority. Beside him, Elena was breathtaking. She wore an emerald-green silk column gown that draped elegantly over her frame, her dark hair styled in an intricate updo secured with diamond pins. George’s hand rested low and possessively on the curve of her waist, his thumb
The two weeks in Positano passed like an idyllic dream, far removed from the cold realities of New York high society. Between quiet sun-drenched mornings overlooking the Amalfi cliffs and passionate nights locked away in Villa Rosa, George and Elena had established a deep, unshakable intimacy. For the first time since signing their initial marriage contract, they weren't calculating their next move they were simply living as husband and wife, completely untethered from corporate leverage.When the private Gulfstream finally touched down at JFK Airport on a rainy Tuesday evening, the reality of their return descended immediately.Rain lashed against the blacked-out windows of the armored Cadillac Escalade as it navigated the gridlocked Midtown traffic. In the backseat, George’s hand remained firmly clasped over Elena’s, his thumb stroking her skin while he reviewed a mountain of digital briefs on his iPad. The relaxed, unreserved lover of Villa Rosa had seamlessly shifted back into th






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