Paper promises

Jesse Kane had been in some strange situations. Fistfights. Evictions. A road trip with a goat once.

But this? Sitting in a high-rise office overlooking the skyline, across from a woman who looked like a luxury brand come to life, watching her slide a thick legal contract across a glass table?

This was a new level of insane.

Alina Sterling didn't even blink. "Read it."

Jesse leaned back in the leather chair. It was stupid expensive-probably cost more than his yearly income-and yet he felt like he belonged in it. Maybe because she was watching him like he was a stock she hadn't decided to buy yet.

He picked up the contract and skimmed. The basics hit him first:

One-year marriage.

Public appearances.

No romantic entanglements outside the agreement.

A $500,000 payout upon successful completion.

He whistled low. "You really weren't kidding."

"I don't have time to kid," she said, standing and walking to the window. Her heels clicked with that same lethal rhythm. "I have thirty days before the board forces me to hand over my company to a man who thinks women should fetch coffee, not run empires."

"And you want to fool them by marrying me?"

She turned slowly, arms crossed. "I want to buy time. You just happen to be... convenient."

He gave her a half-smile. "I should be insulted."

"You should be flattered. I don't trust people, Jesse. But you? You're nobody. No connections. No ties. No ambitions that threaten mine."

Jesse raised a brow. "Wow. Romance really is dead."

Alina's lips twitched. Almost a smile. "This isn't romance. It's a business deal."

He looked at the bottom of the contract. There was a blank space next to her signature.

His fingers hovered over the pen. "Why me? Why not some actor? Someone polished."

She met his gaze dead-on. "Because actors want cameras. You want money. I can control that."

The room went quiet. The city hummed outside, lights flickering like distant stars.

Then he picked up the pen, twirled it once, and signed his name.

"Guess I'm your husband now," Jesse said with a grin. "What's next? A prenup or a honeymoon?"

She walked over, leaned down close enough for him to catch the scent of expensive perfume and danger.

"We make the world believe that we are in love."

****

Jesse had never seen so much marble in his life.

The Sterling Estate wasn't a house-it was an empire wrapped in glass, stone, and designer silence. From the black iron gates guarded by actual men in suits, to the sprawling circular driveway where a fleet of luxury cars glittered in the sunlight, everything screamed one word:

Power.

He stepped inside and nearly tripped over a butler.

"Sir," the man said with a deep nod. "Welcome. I'm Marcus, Miss Sterling's chief house manager."

"Right," Jesse said, glancing at the staff lined up along the hall like soldiers awaiting inspection. "You've got... a small army."

"They're efficient," Alina said behind him, removing her sunglasses. "I don't believe in doing things twice. Or doing them myself."

Jesse blinked at the gleaming marble floors, the crystal chandeliers, the fresh-cut orchids arranged like art installations.

"You live here alone?" he asked.

Alina walked ahead, heels tapping like a ticking clock. "Alone is underrated."

As they passed through a gallery hallway-lined with modern art that probably cost more than his old neighborhood-Jesse stopped in front of a sculpture that looked like two twisted metal hearts.

"What's this one called?"

"'Affection Fatigue,'" Alina said dryly. "By a French artist who only works during breakups."

"Cheerful."

She shot him a look. "You'll get used to it. Come on."

She led him through another set of doors into a vast dressing chamber-wardrobe didn't even begin to describe it. Floor-to-ceiling shelves held rows of tailored suits, designer shoes, watches that ticked louder than his bank account.

Jesse turned in a slow circle. "Do you dress every boyfriend that walks in here?"

She smirked. "Only the fake ones."

She picked up a dark navy Tom Ford suit and held it to his chest. "This'll do."

He eyed it warily. "That thing costs more than my student loans."

"That's why it's perfect," she said, thrusting it into his arms. "You're about to become the most polished lie the city's ever seen."

As he stepped into the dressing room, Jesse paused and looked back at her. "You know, for someone who says she doesn't believe in love, you sure know how to dress it up."

Alina tilted her head. "I don't need love, Jesse. I need a story the world will believe. And tonight, you're going to play the lead."