four

The day of the wedding arrived with perfect weather, which felt like the universe was mocking me. Shouldn't it be raining? Shouldn't there be storm clouds and thunder to match the chaos I felt inside?

Instead, it was beautiful. Sunny, warm, with a gentle breeze that made the flowers in the garden ceremony site sway gently. Everything was perfect, except for the fact that I was marrying someone for all the wrong reasons.

"Stop fidgeting," Jess said, adjusting my veil for the third time. "You look beautiful."

I did look beautiful. The dress we'd finally chosen was simple but elegante ivory silk that hugged my curves before flowing into a subtle train. My hair was swept up with a few loose curls framing my face. I looked like a bride. A real bride, marrying for love.

The irony wasn't lost on me.

"I can't do this," I whispered, staring at my reflection in the mirror. "Jess, I can't"

"Yes, you can." She took my hands, squeezing tight. "Your mom is on a plane to Switzerland right now because of this. You're saving her life, Emma. You're doing an incredible thing."

"An incredible thing would be finding a cure for cancer. This is just... selling myself."

"You're not selling yourself. You're making a sacrifice. There's a difference." She pulled back, studying my face. "But if you really can't do this, if you really want to walk away, I'll help you. We can leave right now. Screw the consequences."

I loved her for saying that. For meaning it. But we both knew I wouldn't leave. Couldn't leave. My mother's life depended on this.

"No," I said, taking a deep breath. "I'm doing this."

There was a soft knock on the door, and my father poked his head in. "Emma? It's time."

Time. Such a simple word for such a life-changing moment.

---

The ceremony was small, just close family and a few friends. Alexander's father was there, looking stern and businesslike even at his son's wedding. My mother had insisted on staying in Seattle until after the ceremony before flying to Switzerland, and seeing her in the front row—weak but smiling, tears in her eyes almost broke me.

This is for her, I reminded myself. Everything is for her.

Then the music started, and everyone stood, and I walked down the aisle on my father's arm toward the man who would be my husband in a matter of minutes.

Alexander stood at the altar in a perfectly tailored black tux, and when our eyes met, something passed between us. Understanding, maybe. Shared sacrifice. Or maybe just mutual acknowledgment of the insanity we were both agreeing to.

He looked nervous, I realized. Alexander Knight, billionaire CEO who commanded boardrooms and made million-dollar decisions daily, looked nervous about marrying me.

Somehow that made me feel a little better.

The ceremony was traditional, or at least it looked traditional to everyone watching. The officiant talked about love and commitment and partnership. We said the words we were supposed to say, made promises we both knew we wouldn't keep. When it came time for the vows, Alexander looked at me with those dark eyes and spoke clearly.

"Emma, I promise to respect you, to support your dreams, and to be honest with you. I promise to be a partner in this journey, whatever it may bring."

They weren't the typical romantic vows, but they felt real. More real than promising to love forever when we both knew this had an expiration date.

My turn. I'd spent days trying to figure out what to say, how to make this feel authentic without being a complete lie. "Alexander, I promise to face this future with honesty and courage. I promise to respect our agreement and to be true to who I am. And I promise to make the best of whatever time we have."

His eyes flickered with something surprise, appreciation, I couldn't tell. But he squeezed my hands gently, a small gesture that no one else would notice but that felt significant somehow.

"You may kiss the bride," the officiant announced.

Oh. I hadn't actually thought about this part. Kissing Alexander Knight in front of fifty people, including both our fathers and my mother. Making it look real, look convincing, when nothing about this was real at all.

Alexander stepped closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. "Just for show," he whispered, so quiet only I could hear.

"Just for show," I agreed.

And then he kissed me.

It was supposed to be simple. A quick kiss, enough for appearances, nothing more. But the moment his lips touched mine, something shifted. The kiss was soft at first, gentle, almost questioning. Then deeper, his other hand finding my waist, pulling me closer. I found myself responding, my hands gripping his shoulders, kissing him back in a way that had nothing to do with putting on a show.

When we finally pulled apart, both breathless, the guests were applauding. But I barely heard them. I was too busy trying to figure out what the hell just happened and why my heart was racing like I'd just run a marathon.

Alexander looked as stunned as I felt. "That was..."

"For show," I finished quickly. "Just for show."

"Right," he agreed, but his voice sounded uncertain.

We turned to face our guests as the officiant announced us as Mr. and Mrs. Knight, and everyone cheered, and I pasted on a smile that I hoped looked genuine. But inside, I was panicking.

Because that kiss didn't feel like pretend. It felt real. And that was dangerous.

---

The reception was held at an exclusive hotel downtown, the kind of place where everything sparkled and nothing had a price tag because if you had to ask, you couldn't afford it. I smiled until my face hurt, thanked people I'd never met for their congratulations, and danced with Alexander under twinkling lights while photographers captured every moment.

"You're good at this," Alexander murmured as we swayed to some romantic song I didn't recognize. "Playing the happy bride."

"Years of practice pretending everything is fine," I said. "Corporate events with my father taught me well."

"I'm sorry this isn't what you wanted. The wedding, I mean."

I looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "What did you want? For your wedding?"

He was quiet for a moment, just holding me as we moved across the dance floor. "I don't know. Something real, I guess. When I was younger, I used to think I'd marry someone I actually loved. Someone who chose me, not my bank account or my company name."

"That's surprisingly romantic for someone who agreed to an arranged marriage."

"We all have our contradictions." He spun me gently, and I found myself closer to him, our bodies pressed together in a way that felt intimate despite all the people watching. "What about you? What did little Emma Chen dream about for her wedding?"

"Something small," I admitted. "Maybe on a beach somewhere, just close friends and family. No fancy venues or photographers or..." I gestured around us. "This."

"We could have done that. If you'd wanted."

"No, we couldn't have. This wedding isn't for us, remember? It's for the shareholders and the business partners and everyone who needs to believe this is real."

"Right," he said quietly. "I keep forgetting."

"Forgetting what?"

"That this isn't real."

Before I could figure out how to respond to that, his father appeared, tapping Alexander on the shoulder. "Mind if I cut in?"

Alexander looked like he wanted to refuse, but he stepped back with a polite nod. "Of course."

As his father took his place, I realized this was the first time I'd actually spoken directly to James Knight. He was older than Alexander by about thirty years, with gray hair and sharp eyes that missed nothing.

"You clean up nicely, Miss Chen," he said as we started dancing. "Or should I say Mrs. Knight now?"

"Emma is fine."

"Emma, then." He studied me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. "I want you to know that I appreciate what you're doing. This merger secures both our companies' futures. Your father made a smart choice."

"My father didn't make this choice. I did." The words came out sharper than I intended.

Something that might have been respect flickered across his face. "Good. Alexander needs someone with a spine. Too many people just agree with everything he says."

"I'm not here to manage your son."

"No, you're here because your mother is dying and you need my money." His bluntness was like a slap. "Let's not pretend this is anything other than what it is a business transaction that benefits both our families."

I stopped dancing, right there in the middle of the floor. "Excuse me."

I walked away, not caring if it looked rude, not caring about the stares. I needed air, needed space, needed to remember why I was doing this before I said something I'd regret.

I found myself on the hotel's terrace, overlooking the city lights. It was quieter out here, peaceful. I could almost pretend I was just Emma Chen, art gallery owner, normal person with a normal life.

"My father has a gift for saying exactly the wrong thing." Alexander's voice came from behind me. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for him." I didn't turn around. "He's right, anyway. This is a transaction. I married you for money. That's the truth."

"Is it?" He moved to stand beside me, leaning against the railing. "Because from where I'm standing, you married me to save your mother's life. There's a difference."

"Either way, it's not real."

"Emma"

"Please don't." I finally looked at him, and I was surprised to find my eyes were wet. "Don't try to make this into something it's not. We have an agreement. Two years, then we walk away. If we start pretending it's more than that, if we start believing our own act, someone's going to get hurt."

"Would that be so terrible?" he asked quietly. "If it became more than an act?"

My breath caught. "You said you didn't want romance. You said this was just a solution to a problem."

"I know what I said." He reached out, tucking a loose curl behind my ear in a gesture so gentle it made my chest ache. "But that was before I got to know you. Before I realized you're brilliant and stubborn and so passionate about your art that your eyes light up when you talk about it. Before that kiss that definitely wasn't just for show."

"Alexandra"

"I'm not saying I'm in love with you," he continued. "I'm not that naive. But I'm saying maybe we don't have to spend two years pretending to tolerate each other. Maybe we could actually be friends. Maybe we could see where this goes."

It was tempting. So tempting. But I'd learned a long time ago that fairy tales didn't exist, that men like Alexander Knight didn't fall for girls like me outside of romance novels.

"I can't," I whispered. "I can't let myself hope for something more when I know it has an end date. I'll protect my heart, thank you very much."

He nodded slowly, disappointment clear on his face. "Okay. Friends, then. At least we can be friends."

"Friends," I agreed, even though I wasn't sure we could even manage that.

As we stood there on the terrace, our wedding reception continuing without us, I realized I'd already made a terrible mistake. Because despite everything I'd just said, despite all my warnings to myself, I was already starting to care about Alexander Knight.

And that was the most dangerous thing of all.