Chapter 4

By noon, I had reached a conclusion.

Not a comfortable one. Not one I liked.

But it was there, sitting stubbornly in the middle of everything.

Daniel Rothfield’s idea was insane.

And somehow… still made sense.

I’d been pacing long enough to map out the room without looking—sofa to window, window to kitchen, back again. My phone stayed in my hand the whole time, like I might do something with it if I just kept moving.

The conversation from the café kept replaying. Not word for word. Just the parts that mattered.

The part where it solved things.

I stopped in the middle of the room.

“No,” I said.

It sounded thin. Unconvincing.

I sat on the arm of the couch. Stood up again almost immediately. My body didn’t seem interested in settling anywhere.

This wasn’t supposed to be a real option.

It was supposed to be something I laughed off and forgot.

But it lingered.

Because it fixed things. Not perfectly, not cleanly—but enough.

My mother would stop.

Noah wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore.

That thought stayed.

I pressed my lips together, staring at the floor, then reached for my phone and called him before I could change my mind again.

He picked up quickly.

“Hey. Did the internet calm down yet?”

“No.”

A small pause.

“That bad?”

“My mother sent me something this morning,” I said, shifting my weight against the wall. “They’re calling it an alliance.”

He laughed under his breath. “Of course they are.”

“It sounds like a business deal.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.

There was a moment where I almost didn’t say it. Just let the conversation drift somewhere easier.

But that wouldn’t last.

“So… I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

“It’s a bit—” I stopped, exhaled quietly. “It’s strange.”

“That’s reassuring.”

I closed my eyes for a second.

“Daniel had an idea.”

A pause.

“That already sounds like trouble.”

I rubbed the back of my neck.

“He thinks we should pretend to date.”

Silence.

Not immediate. Not sharp.

Just… space.

Then, slowly, “Pretend.”

“Yes.”

“As in… a fake relationship.”

“Yes.”

“With him.”

“Yes.”

I waited, staring at the edge of the window, watching a car pass like it mattered.

“You’re serious.”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

Another pause.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because if our parents think it’s real, they stop interfering,” I said. “They get what they want, and we get left alone.”

He didn’t respond right away.

I could almost hear him thinking—turning it over, checking for cracks.

“You’d be seen with him,” he said finally.

“Yes.”

“Publicly.”

“Yes.”

“And people would believe it.”

“That’s the idea.”

Silence again.

I pushed off the wall and started pacing again, slower this time.

“Well,” he said eventually, “that’s… creative.”

“I told you it sounded ridiculous.”

“It does,” he agreed. “But it also—” He stopped.

“But it also works,” I finished.

“Yeah.”

That sat between us for a second.

Then he exhaled, quieter this time. “If it gets your family off our backs… maybe it’s not the worst idea.”

I paused mid-step.

“You’re serious?”

“I trust you.”

Simple.

No hesitation. No conditions.

Something in me softened a little at that. Not dramatically. Just enough to notice.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes.”

A small pause.

Then, lighter, “Just don’t fall in love with him.”

I snorted. “Have you met him?”

“No.”

“He looks like someone who schedules fun.”

“That’s unsettling.”

“It is.”

He laughed, and it felt familiar in a way that steadied things just slightly.

“Alright,” he said. “Go tell your billionaire you’re on board with his… plan.”

“You’re being suspiciously calm about this.”

“I’m an excellent boyfriend.”

“You are.”

There was a brief pause.

“And if he tries anything,” Noah added, “I’m fighting him.”

I smiled, shaking my head. “You’re not fighting a CEO.”

“I’ll improvise.”

“Please don’t get arrested.”

“No promises.”

I leaned back against the couch, letting that moment sit for a second longer.

“I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay.”

“And Maria?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember what it is.”

“I know.”

We hung up.

I stayed there for a second, phone still in my hand.

It felt different now.

Less like a hypothetical. More like something already in motion.

I looked around my apartment, like it might offer a better option.

It didn’t.

I grabbed my bag.

⸻

Daniel’s office was exactly what I expected.

Everything in place. Nothing unnecessary. Even the quiet felt intentional.

He looked up when I walked in.

“You didn’t sleep.”

“Not really.”

“That’s understandable.”

I sat down across from him, setting my bag beside my chair.

“This is still insane.”

“But you’re here.”

I let out a small breath.

“But I’m here.”

Saying it out loud made it harder to pretend otherwise.

“I spoke to Noah,” I added.

“And?”

“He didn’t object.”

Daniel nodded once.

“That simplifies things.”

“He did threaten to fight you.”

Daniel considered that briefly. “Noted.”

I leaned forward slightly.

“If we’re doing this, we need rules.”

He gestured toward my phone. “Write them down.”

I opened my notes app.

“No real feelings,” I said, typing.

“Agreed.”

“Public affection only when necessary.”

“What qualifies as necessary?”

“When people are watching,” I said. “When it matters.”

He nodded.

“Six months. Then we end it.”

“Reasonable.”

“Our private lives stay separate.”

His gaze shifted slightly. “Your boyfriend.”

“Yes.”

“That won’t interfere.”

I finished typing and slid my phone toward him.

“Look.”

He read it quickly.

When he handed it back, our fingers brushed—brief, accidental.

I pulled my hand back first, focusing on the screen.

“This feels like a contract.”

“It is.”

“Romantic.”

Something like amusement flickered across his face.

I ignored it.

“So how do we make people believe it?”

“There’s a charity auction tomorrow evening.”

I looked up. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“That’s fast.”

“It needs to be.”

I leaned back in my chair, processing that.

No time to ease into this.

“We arrive together,” he continued. “That will be enough to start.”

“That’s it?”

“For now.”

I studied him for a second.

“You’re very calm about this.”

“I prefer structure.”

“This isn’t structured,” I said. “This is people.”

“People are predictable when motivated.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It’s effective.”

I shook my head slightly.

“This is going to get messy.”

“Possibly.”

“My mother is going to escalate this.”

“Likely.”

None of that seemed to bother him.

Which, for some reason, made it harder to relax.

He stood then, walking around the desk.

Then he held out his hand.

“Partners.”

I looked at it.

This was the part where I could still say no.

Walk away. Undo this before it became real.

But that version of things didn’t fix anything.

Didn’t protect anything.

I thought about Noah saying I trust you.

About my mother already turning this into something bigger.

About how quickly everything had gotten out of my control.

I reached out and took his hand.

“Six months.”

“Six months.”

“This is a terrible decision.”

“Probably.”

I let go, stepping back slightly.

And just like that—

It started.

I didn’t know yet what I had just agreed to.