Lahat ng Kabanata ng The billionaire fake girlfriend : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 7

Blake pov "Mr. Joseph, please," I said, my voice a mix of desperation and pride, trying not to let either crack through. "Just one more week. I swear, I’ve got a paycheck coming." Lie. But what choice did I have? The truth was uglier than my reflection on bad days. I’d just lost my job. Again. And now my apartment, like it was slipping through my fingers. Mr. Joseph let out a sigh—the heavy kind that carried disappointmen. Maybe neither. Maybe I was just a burden he was tired of carrying. "Blake, this has been going on too long. I’ve got bills too. A family to feed." "Please," I said, quieter this time, shame trailing the word like a shadow. He didn’t budge. “You’ve got until tomorrow to be out.” No pause. No breath. Just that. Final. Then he turned and walked away. Like it didn’t matter that he’d just shattered what little was left of my pride. I stood there for a beat, the hallway swallowing my thoughts. Cold. Empty. No job. No money. No home. Just me, a bunch of regrets

Ethan pov“How are you, son?” my father said with that same plastered smile he wore like a mask.I didn’t return it.“What are you doing here?” My fists clenched beneath the desk, my voice tight, measured.He blinked, like my reaction surprised him. “You can’t even greet your own father?”“Nathaniel, I have a meeting soon,” I said, rising to my feet.He didn’t move. Just sat there, legs crossed like he had every right to be in my office. Every time he showed up, it felt like an ambush his presence a reminder of everything I he did to mom.“You need to get a wife, Ethan,” he said again—like clockwork, like a goddamn broken record.“How many times do I have to say it?” I snapped, slamming my hand on the desk. “I’m not ready. I’m twenty-seven.”“You’re still twenty-seven,” he said slowly. “But I’m not young anymore. I want a grandchild.”There it was. The real reason. The legacy. The image. It was never about what I wanted.“A grandchild

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

The waiter showed up with wine just in time to keep me from snapping. I gripped the glass, knuckles white, and took a slow sip like it might drown the nerves crawling under my skin.Nathaniel turned to his son, cool as hell. “How long do you think this little charade is going to last?”Ethan didn’t even blink. “That’s not your business.”“Everything you touch is my business.”He shifted his focus back to me like I was a loose thread he couldn’t pull. “Tell me, Miss Monroe, what exactly do you bring to the table?”I gave him a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Depends. What’s already on it?”Ethan coughed into his fist, trying to mask a laugh. Nathaniel didn’t even flinch.“No job. No noteworthy education. Your family walked out on you. So let me ask again—why you?”I leaned back, arms crossing. “Why not me?”Silence. The kind that hums in your ears. He studied me like I was some kind of riddle with missing pieces. Then he lower