Tangled And Claimed

PROLOGUE

Eliana Maxine

I checked the time on my wristwatch—still ten minutes before nine. I’d gotten here ahead of time because my nerves wouldn’t let me stay still, but now, sitting alone in this pristine private room, the silence was only making things worse.

My fingers tapped against the white tablecloth as I bit down on my bottom lip.

What am I even doing here?

Oh. Right. Mica.

She’d begged me to come in her place, practically begging between coughs. And like the incredibly gullible best friend I am, I said yes—even though every logical part of my brain screamed no. According to her, it was just a harmless date-for-hire gig. She’d done this kind of thing multiple times before.

“You just sit there, make small talk, and boom—easy money,” she’d assured me.

I wasn’t exactly convinced. I’ve never done anything like this before, but... I needed the cash. Aunt George’s birthday was coming up, and I really wanted to buy her something special. Something more than just cheap clothes from a thrift store and a hand-painted mug.

Still, as I sat there with this expensive plate of pasta in front of me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The kind of off that prickles down your spine and whispers, run.

I sighed and picked up the fork, twirling the pasta. I figured I might as well eat while I waited. I mean, if this man was going to keep me waiting, then I was going to enjoy the free dinner.

I was just about to take a bite when—

Click.

The door to the private room swung open.

My hand froze midair as a tall, imposing man stepped inside.

His presence alone sucked all the air out of the room. He had broad shoulders, a devastatingly chiseled jaw, and piercing gray eyes that locked onto me like a loaded gun. His black three-piece suit fit him like a second skin. He looked like he belonged in a Forbes cover story, not in a private dining room with someone like me.

And boy, I could tell just from his eyes alone that he’s not happy seeing me.

He stopped a few feet away from the table, frowning as his gaze swept over me from head to toe like I was some kind of offense to his night.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked, his voice was deep, sharp as a blade, carrying an air of absolute authority.

I gulped, suddenly feeling like I’d committed some grave mistake just by sitting there. I quickly put the fork down and stood, heart pounding.

“I—uh—I’m Eliana Maxine Alvarado,” I stammered, forcing a polite smile. “I’m Mica’s fri—”

“Where is she?” he cut in, his tone even icier than before.

I blinked. Wow. Rude much?

For someone who looked like a Greek god, he had the manners of a stone wall. But I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he was expecting Mica, not me.

“She’s sick,” I explained, still trying to sound nice. “She really wanted to come, but she wasn’t feeling well, so she asked me to—”

“That is not my concern,” he cut me off again, expression unreadable.

I blinked at him. Seriously?

“Call her. Now.”

My eyes narrowed in disbelief.

Okay, wow. Jerk alert. Do all beautiful men come with terrible personalities, or was this one just extra gifted?

God must’ve spent all His time sculpting that face and completely skipped the kindness update. Ugh.

I took a deep breath and tried again. “She’s really sick. I know this might mess up some kind of... arrangement between you two, and I understand that she already received the payment, but she genuinely couldn’t make it tonight. That’s why I’m here—to stand in for her.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just stared at me with those impossibly cold gray eyes, like he was weighing whether or not to believe me.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he exhaled a slow breath and muttered under his breath, “Unbelievable.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I know it’s not ideal, but I can still—”

“Do you even know why you’re here?”

The way he asked it—calm and quiet but with something dangerous coiled beneath—made my stomach twist.

“Yes?” I replied, uncertain. “Mica told me it’s like a date-for-hire thing. I mean, I’ve never done one before, but I think I can manage.” I gave a nervous laugh, hoping to lighten the tension.

His lips curved, but not in amusement. It was more like disbelief. “Is that what she told you?”

I hesitated. “...Yes?”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “It seems your friend conveniently left out the most important detail.”

My palms went cold. “What... detail?”

He stepped closer. And wow, he was tall. Like really tall. His presence towered over me like a storm cloud.

“This isn’t just a date,” he said, his voice dangerously smooth. “Your friend was supposed to meet me today to sign the final contract.”

My eyebrows scrunched. “Contract?”

His gray eyes met mine. “To be my contract wife.”

My breath hitched. My mouth fell open and my brain short-circuited.

The fuck? Contract wife?! What the hell is he talking about?!

“You’re joking,” I laughed nervously, shaking my head. “There’s no way Mica agreed to something like that.”

He didn’t say anything. Just kept watching me.

I scrambled for my phone. “I’ll call her right now—”

But before I could unlock the screen, a warm, firm hand closed around my wrist. Not rough, but just tight enough to make me freeze.

My eyes snapped up, meeting his.

“Well,” he mused, his gaze unreadable. “You’re not bad.”

What?

Before I could respond, his fingers brushed under my chin, tilting it upward ever so slightly. The touch was soft—almost teasing—but it sent an unexpected spark down my spine.

“Since you insisted on filling in for her,” he murmured, his voice low and deliberate, “you might as well take her place entirely.”

I suddenly couldn’t breathe.

My heart thundered in my ears.

That moment, all I could think was—

What the hell did I just get myself into?