CHAPTER FIVE – Signing the Contract

Blake’s POV

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, shoving the document across his desk like I didn’t care.

Ethan didn’t even flinch. His eyes were ice. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

His voice was low, unbothered—calculated, like every word that had been used were rehearsed just for this moment.

“And before you go running your mouth with a hard no,” he leaned back, calm but lethal, “maybe take a second to look at your life. I’m offering you thirty million dollars to pretend to be my girlfriend for three months. You need the money. You’re not just broke, Blake—you’re desperate, you also lost your apartment.”

He let out a quiet, mocking laugh. “And if you don’t take the offer, I’ll hand over this video to the authorities and make sure your little bestie gets the warm welcome of a jail cell. I doubt that’s what you want.”

“What video?” I said. He then showed me the video.

My stomach turned.

He wasn’t bluffing. I could see it in his eyes.

“You’ve been blacklisted by your own family’s company, haven’t you?” he added, voice softer now, almost pitying. “And now no one will hire you. You’re smart, but that doesn’t matter when the world thinks you’re a thief.”

It was the most he’d said to me since we met. And every word cut deeper than the last.

I swallowed hard, pulse thudding in my ears.

He was right. I didn’t have a choice. Not really.

Thirty million.

Most people go their whole lives without even seeing that much money.

And here he was, dangling it in front of me like I was some dog he picked up off the street.

Still, I hated the way he was doing this. I hated him for having this much power over me.

I didn’t say anything. I just picked up the contract with shaking hands and read:

a. Must attend all public events, fundraisers, or social parties as his date.

b. Maintain a carefully curated social media presence with fabricated captions and affectionate photos.

c. Absolutely no romantic feelings allowed.

d. No dating or romantic relationships during the contract period. Breaking this rule = massive penalty.

e. Any behavior that could tarnish the Blackwood name—drunken scandals, arrests, bad press—would result in severe consequences.

I closed the folder slowly.

“Fine,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ll sign. But I have one condition.”

His eyes lifted to mine, curious. “Go ahead.”

“No sex. None. Ever. Is that clear?”

His mouth twitched, like he found that amusing. “Deal. I’ll have my lawyers add it.”

He slid the pen across the desk.

I stared at it for a second. Then I signed.

Later That Night

The house smelled like something warm and familiar—spices, roasted chicken, and Gabriella’s perfume.

“Hey, guys,” Amelia called out as she walked in.

“Hi,” we both chorused.

She walked over and kissed her mom on the cheek. “What’s cooking?”

Gabriella smiled, pulling a tray of golden chicken out of the oven. “Chicken curry. Your dad’s favorite.”

I was curled up in the living room, half-watching Real Housewives, and thoughts floating in my own head.

Amelia leaned over the kitchen counter, grinning. “When are you going to make my favorite?”

Their banter made my chest ache. I missed that. A mom. A home. A dinner that wasn’t eaten alone.

“Amelia,” I called, eyes still on the TV. “Go freshen up. I need to talk to you.”

We were curled up on my bed later, lights low, the room quiet except for the hum of the night.

“How’d it go?” she asked, rolling onto her side to face me.

“Bad,” I said.

“That bad?” Her voice jumped, panicked. “Wait—he didn’t try anything, did he—?”

“No. Nothing like that,” I cut in. Then I told her everything. Everything except the part about the video.

When I mentioned the money, her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Thirty million?!”

“Shhh!” I hissed, covering her mouth. “Keep your voice down.”

She pulled my hand away, whispering now. “Sorry, but that’s insane. It’s just three months. You can do this. The rules aren’t even that bad.”

I frowned. “Except one.”

She raised a brow. “Which?”

“That whole no feelings part.”

Amelia sat up slightly, concern creeping into her voice. “What if you do start falling for him?”

“I won’t,” I said quickly. “I can’t fall for a guy like Ethan Blackwood. He’s cold. Arrogant. A complete ass.”

She gave me a look.

“…And yeah, okay, he’s hot,” I admitted. “But that’s not the point. I’m doing this for the money, not for love.”

She sighed. “Just don’t lose yourself in this. Okay?”

“Go to your room,” I said, standing and dragging her by the arm.

“But—”

The door clicked shut before she could finish.

I was just about to pass out when my phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: We’re having dinner with my father Friday. Wear something pretty. I’ll send details.

Friday? That’s two days from now.

Me: How did you get my number?

Unknown: I always get what I want. Now goodnight.

I stared at the screen, grinding my teeth.

God, I wanted to throw my phone at the wall.

Instead, I dropped it on the nightstand and stared up at the ceiling, heart hammering.

I told myself I wouldn’t fall for him.

I swore I wouldn’t.

But right now?

I wasn’t so sure.

And that terrified me more than anything.