Amara’S POV

I slid off the stool, letting tension uncoil before it crushed me. “I don’t care about your rumors,” I said sharply. “They don’t change what I see right in front of me.”

His gaze followed me, voice trailing like smoke. “I have a job offer for you.”

I froze mid-step. “What kind of…”

He cut me off, voice steady, unwavering. “Marry me.”

I raised an eyebrow, one hand on my hip, the other brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You realize that’s the most reckless job offer anyone’s ever made me, right?” I said, voice dry but calculated.

Williams’ smirk deepened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I imagine you’d handle it better than most.”

I leaned against the bar, studying him like a hunter sizing up prey. “And why exactly do you need me, Mr. Billionaire? Besides the obvious thrill of proposing to strangers in strip clubs?”

He didn’t flinch. Calm, precise, his gaze locked on mine. “There are rumors,” he said evenly. “People think I’m unfit to lead the company. To inherit, I need to be married. That’s the only way to show I’m capable. I need someone intelligent, untouchable… someone like you.”

I tilted my head, a faint smirk playing on my lips. “So basically, you want me as a shield with style. How flattering.”

Williams leaned closer, voice low, deliberate. “Not a shield. An ally. This is a marriage of convenience. Nothing more.”

I tapped my finger on the bar, thinking. Dangerous. Risky. And yet… a golden opportunity. “Let me get this straight,” I said. “You want me to sign up for your family, your empire, your gossip… just to keep you in business?”

“Yes,” he said simply, as if it were obvious.

I paused, studying him a beat longer. Then, deliberately, I said, “I’ll think about it. But don’t expect me to be anyone’s ornament, puppet, or trophy.”

Williams’ smirk widened. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black card, sliding it across the railing toward me. “Call me when you’ve made your decision,” he said evenly, eyes locked on mine. “No rush. But think carefully.”

I caught the card, weighing it in my hand. Smooth, heavy, intentionally commanding attention. I studied it for a moment before slipping it into my jacket pocket. “I’ll think about it,” I said lightly, though every instinct in my body buzzed with the potential dangerand opportunity.

For the next few days, the card burned a hole in my mind more than my pocket. I ran through scenarios, weighing every risk and advantage. Marrying him meant entering his world: power, influence, enemies, rumors, and a constant spotlight. But it also meant access, leverage, and a chance to turn his empire into something useful… for me.

By the third day, I had my answer. I dialed the number, waiting as the line rang, heart steady, thoughts sharp.

“Williams,” his voice came through, calm as ever, like he had expected the call.

“It’s me,” I said, letting my decision land in the space between us. “Let’s meet up.”

There was a pause on the other end, then a soft, approving murmur. “Wise choice,” he said. “Meet me tonight. Details to follow.”

I hung up, letting the decision settle in my mind. Reckless. Risky. But for once, the opportunity outweighed the danger and I would take it, on my terms.

The meeting spot was a quiet rooftop lounge, far from the club’s chaos, lights dimmed, the city stretching below us like a silent witness. I arrived first, heels clicking against the concrete, my instincts alert. Every shadow, every reflection felt like it could hide a threat but tonight, it was just him.

“You came,” he said, voice smooth as silk.

“I always do,” I replied, crossing my arms, letting him take in my posture. “I don’t make decisions lightly.”

He smirked, sharp and calculating. “Good. That’s why you’re perfect for this.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Perfect for what, exactly? Marrying you so you can inherit your company?”

He didn’t flinch. “Partly,” he admitted. “But it’s more than that. People doubt me say I’m unfit. To gain control, I need to show I can lead, make sound decisions, and yes… be married. I need someone untouchable, intelligent, resourceful. Someone like you.”

I studied him, letting the wind play with my hair, the city lights glinting off the metal railing. “Untouchable, resourceful… sounds like you’re describing an assassin, not a spouse.”

“Exactly,” he said evenly. “I don’t want a spouse. I want an ally. A marriage of convenience. Nothing more. No illusions.”

I smirked. “So I sign up for your empire, your gossip, your enemies… and in exchange, I help you look credible? Charming.”

He stepped closer, voice low, deliberate. “It’s not about charm. It’s about practicality. Your intelligence, your instincts… they make you invaluable. And you’ll get a front-row seat to influence, power, money… and yes, my life.”

I tilted my head, weighing the risks. Dangerous, but calculated. “And what exactly does the job entail? I assume there’s more than signing papers and smiling for appearances?”

“Appearances matter, but so do strategy, presence, discretion,” he said smoothly. “You will stand with me publicly, be part of the inner circle when needed, and handle situations I cannot attend to personally. You’ll be seen. Heard. Respected. And yes, feared in some quarters.”

I tapped my finger against the railing, thinking. Risky. Dangerous. But an opportunity one I could use.

Finally, I let my words land, careful, measured. “Fine. I’ll do it.”