Chapter Two

Lena’s Pov

The heavy leather briefcase on my small table felt like a ticking bomb waiting to blow my whole world apart. I stared at Marcus, the assistant in the grey suit, waiting for him to laugh and tell me it was all a giant, cruel prank. But his face stayed completely stone-cold, and the thick envelope sitting right beside my apartment door looked terrifyingly real.

"You're out of your mind," I finally whispered, my hands shaking so badly I had to hide them behind my back. "I wouldn't touch his money if my life depended on it. Tell Mr. Hayes to find someone else to play his little game."

Marcus didn't blink. He just slid the envelope a fraction of an inch closer to me. "Think about your sister, Miss Hart. Think about the rent notice downstairs."

Before I could find the breath to scream at him to get out of my home, a sharp knock echoed against the door. It wasn't Marcus's knock. It was heavier, impatient, and way too loud for our quiet hallway. Marcus calmly reached over and pulled the door open, revealing the very last person on earth I wanted to see standing on my ugly welcome mat.

Carter Hayes filled the entire doorway. He had changed out of his suit into a dark designer jacket and a plain black t-shirt that showed off his broad shoulders, but his face looked hard as stone. He didn't wait for an invitation; he just stepped right past Marcus and into our tiny living room, his tall frame making our apartment feel even smaller than it already was.

"Are you going to accept, Lena, or do I need to stand here all night?" Carter asked, his deep voice bouncing off the cheap walls.

I felt my blood boiling hot right under my skin. I marched right up to him, stopping just inches away from his chest so he would know I wasn't scared of him, even if my knees were trembling. "How dare you walk into my home like you own the place? After what you did to me in college? After you laughed right in my face when I told you how I felt?"

Carter froze. The arrogant smirk vanished from his lips, replaced by a sudden, heavy shadow in his blue-gray eyes. For a second, he looked like he wanted to say something real, something vulnerable, but he swallowed hard and pushed the look away.

"People change, Lena," he said coldly, crossing his arms over his chest. "And right now, you need me just as much as I need you. My ex-fiancée Sophia has the media tearing me apart. My sponsors are threatening to pull millions of dollars because they think I'm a reckless monster who can't control his temper. My father is ready to strip the team captain jersey right off my back."

"And that's supposed to be my problem?" I snapped back, throwing my hands up in the air. "Go hire an actress! Pay someone else to smile for your cameras!"

"I can't hire an actress," Carter shot back, leaning down slightly so his eyes locked onto mine with a fierce intensity. "The media would see right through it in two seconds. They need to see me with someone normal. Someone who doesn't care about fame, someone who looks like she wouldn't even know how to spend a billionaire's money. And you, Lena... you hate my guts so much that nobody will ever doubt that our relationship is completely real."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words stuck in my throat. He wasn't wrong. That was the most painful part.

"Look at the envelope," Carter murmured, his voice dropping to a softer, dangerous whisper. "It has enough cash to pay off your landlord for the whole year, clear every single medical bill your sister has, and leave you with savings. All you have to do is show up tonight at the charity gala, stand by my side, and look like you actually like me."

I turned my back on him and walked over to the window, staring out at the rainy streetlights below. My mind raced a million miles an hour. If I said no, the landlord would throw us out by tomorrow afternoon. Mia would have to drop out of school. But if I said yes... I would be tying myself to the most arrogant, annoying man I had ever met.

When I turned back around, Carter was watching me with a look of quiet desperation that completely caught me off guard. He wasn't just a rich hockey star right now; he was a guy drowning, and he was throwing me a rope while asking me to hold onto the other end.

"Fine," I said, the word tasting like bitter ash on my tongue. "I'll do it. But we are going to have strict rules, Carter Hayes. Crystal clear rules."

Carter raised an eyebrow, looking almost amused. "I'm listening."

"Rule number one: No real kissing. Ever. If cameras are watching, you keep it to the cheek or a quick peck, and only when it's absolutely necessary," I said, holding up one finger. "Rule number two: We live our own separate lives behind closed doors. You stay on your side of whatever house or apartment we're in, and I stay on mine. Rule number three: No controlling each other. And rule number four—the most important one—absolutely no falling in love. This is purely a business transaction."

Carter stared at me for a long, quiet moment. Then, slowly, a very small, genuine smile touched the corner of his mouth. He didn't look offended at all.

"Deal," Carter said easily, holding out a large, warm hand. "No falling in love. It shouldn't be too hard, considering how much you clearly despise me."

I didn't shake his hand. I just walked past him, grabbed the thick envelope from the table, and pulled out the check inside. My breath caught. It was real.

By seven o'clock that evening, my whole world had turned upside down. Carter’s stylist, a frantic woman named Chloe, had spent three hours curling my hair, putting soft makeup on my face, and zipping me into a stunning, midnight-blue silk dress that cost more than my entire wardrobe combined. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I didn't even recognize the girl staring back.

A sleek black car drove us straight to the Grand Royale Hotel ballroom, where the bright flashbulbs of a hundred cameras blinded me the second the door opened. The noise was deafening—reporters shouting questions, fans screaming, and cameras clicking like angry bugs.

I froze on the velvet carpet, my heart pounding a million miles an hour.

Suddenly, a warm, heavy hand settled firmly against the small of my bare back. Carter's touch sent an electric shock straight through the silk of my dress. He pulled me gently against his side, his body acting like a shield between me and the blinding lights.

My breath hitched in my throat. I looked up at him, my eyes wide, and whispered through my teeth, "Don't get too comfortable, Hayes. You'd better remember this is only an act."

Carter didn't blink. He kept that charming, picture-perfect smile plastered on his face for the cameras, but slowly, he lowered his head until his lips brushed right against the shell of my ear.

His warm breath sent a wild, terrifying shiver racing down my spine.

"I know," he whispered back, his voice thick and low, carrying a strange promise that made my chest tighten. "I know every single rule by heart, Lena."