The morning sun spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Ethan Blake's penthouse, but Ariana Cole didn't feel its warmth. She sat stiffly on the edge of the plush bed, the weight of last night's decisions pressing down on her like a storm cloud that refused to pass.
She had agreed. One year. One year of pretending to be Ethan Blake's wife. One year of navigating a world she barely understood. One year to rebuild herself from the ashes Liam and Vanessa had left behind.
And yet, she felt completely unprepared.
Her reflection in the mirror mocked her. Hair still damp, eyes puffy from tears, and lips set in a line of stubborn determination. "You can do this," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. "You're not that weak girl anymore."
A knock at the door startled her.
"Miss Cole? Breakfast is ready," a calm, professional voice called.
Ariana blinked. She hadn't expected anyone else in the penthouse. The voice belonged to a tall woman in a tailored uniform, eyes respectful but cautious.
"Breakfast?" Ariana repeated, bewildered.
"Yes, Miss Cole," the woman replied politely. "Mr. Blake insists."
Ariana's brows knitted together. Ethan Blake—her fiancé in this absurd contract—was insisting she eat breakfast? She had barely been awake five minutes.
"Thank you," she murmured, stepping carefully into the living room, where a table had been set for two. Fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, and coffee steamed invitingly. She could feel Ethan's presence behind her, though he wasn't speaking.
"You're quiet," she finally said, turning to see him standing by the window, hands in his pockets, watching the city below. The sunlight caught the angles of his face, highlighting the sharpness that always seemed just a little dangerous.
"I like quiet," he said simply, voice low and calm.
"I don't," she shot back, earning a faint smirk from him.
Ethan moved to pour himself a cup of coffee. The rich aroma filled the room, and Ariana felt a strange pang of domesticity in a situation that was anything but normal. Contract marriage, indeed.
"So," she began cautiously, "what… what happens now?"
He looked at her, the faintest trace of a smile playing on his lips. "Now… you learn the rules."
"The rules?" she repeated, confusion mixing with curiosity.
"Yes. The rules of our arrangement," he said, sipping his coffee. "No cheating, no emotional attachment outside the contract, no interfering with each other's business. That's all."
Ariana blinked, processing. "So… I just… act like your wife?"
"Exactly," he replied smoothly. "And I will act like your husband. One year. That's it."
Ariana clenched her fists, trying to control the swirl of emotions threatening to spill. Acting like a wife. She wasn't sure whether to be terrified, furious, or intrigued.
"Fine," she said finally, trying to assert herself. "I can do that."
Ethan's gaze lingered on her for a long moment, measuring, calculating. Then he spoke, softer this time. "You don't know what you're getting into. My life… it isn't normal. People… don't leave unscathed."
Ariana met his gaze, steady despite the flutter in her chest. "Neither do I," she said firmly. "I've been through hell already. One more… I can survive."
For the first time, Ethan's smile widened slightly, faint but real. "Good. I like a fighter."
Breakfast passed in near silence, the occasional clink of cutlery punctuating the air. Ariana's mind was spinning. She didn't know whether she wanted to scream at him, run away, or… something else entirely. But one thing was certain—this man, Ethan Blake, was unlike anyone she had ever met.
After breakfast, Ethan stood. "Come with me. I have business to show you."
Ariana frowned. "Business? I don't work for you."
"You will," he said, voice firm. "And if you're going to pretend to be my wife, you need to understand the world you're stepping into."
She followed him reluctantly to a private elevator, which whisked them down to the underground garage. A sleek black sports car waited, gleaming under the bright lights. Ethan gestured for her to enter.
As they drove through the city, Ariana couldn't help stealing glances at him. The way his jaw clenched when he concentrated. The way his eyes, sharp and intense, seemed to see right through her. She tried to tell herself it was nothing… but the way her heart skipped every time their eyes met told her otherwise.
Finally, they arrived at a skyscraper—a building that screamed wealth and power. Ethan didn't need to speak; the security guards instantly recognized him, opening the doors without question. Ariana felt like she had stepped into another world.
"This is where I work," he said, motioning to the glass doors of a towering office complex. "If you're going to be my wife, even for one year, you need to understand my life. My business. My rules."
The lobby was vast, modern, and intimidating. Ariana felt small, even in her own skin. People moved past them, bowing slightly to Ethan as he led her to the elevator.
"Rule number one," he said, voice low as the doors closed, "never underestimate the people around you. Everyone has motives, and most of them aren't good."
Ariana swallowed hard. "Noted," she said quietly.
He glanced at her, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Good. Rule number two: you're not allowed to be weak. Not in public. Not ever. People smell fear. And fear gets exploited."
Ariana clenched her fists, determination flaring in her chest. "I'm not weak," she said firmly.
"Good," he said again, almost approvingly.
The elevator chimed, and they stepped into the heart of Ethan's empire. Floors of offices, bustling with people who clearly respected—and feared—him. He led her to a private conference room.
"This," he said, spreading his hands, "is where decisions are made. Where lives are changed. Where power is wielded. And you… will learn to navigate this world. If you're going to be my wife, even in name only, you need to survive it."
Ariana looked around, a mixture of awe and fear in her eyes. This world was intimidating, yes—but it was also intoxicating. For the first time in months, she felt a spark of something she hadn't felt since Liam betrayed her—hope. Strength. Possibility.
Ethan turned to her, serious now. "You'll need to learn fast. One wrong move, and everything falls apart. Including… us."
Ariana's pulse quickened. "Us?" she repeated, heart skipping a beat.
Ethan didn't answer directly. He simply leaned back, eyes fixed on her, unreadable. "One year. That's the deal. But understand this—rules or not… emotions have a way of sneaking in."
Her breath caught. She had no idea what he meant—but a part of her, deep down, knew she was already in danger. Not from him… but from herself.
Because even though she had agreed to this contract, even though she had told herself it was just business… something about Ethan Blake made her heart race in ways she didn't understand.
And for the first time in a long time, Ariana Cole felt alive.
The city below glimmered as night approached, but Ariana's world had already changed. She didn't know what lay ahead—what challenges, what temptations, what heartbreaks—but she knew one thing with certainty:
Her life would never be the same again.
And neither would her heart.