Aria's POV

I didn’t sleep.

Not even for a second.

The contract sat on the kitchen counter like it was mocking me, thick, official, expensive. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Julian’s face. That unreadable stare. That voice, smooth and cold. That ridiculous price tag: two billion dollars.

It didn’t feel real. It felt like a trap wrapped in silk.

And yet… I couldn’t ignore it.

When the sun rose over the skyline, painting the pale walls of our apartment in soft gold, I was still at the kitchen table. Still staring at the contract. Still trying to understand how my life had come to this.

Mikey wandered in rubbing his eyes, yawning. “You didn’t sleep?”

I shook my head.

He glanced at the paper in front of me. “Is that homework?”

I snorted softly. “Something like that.”

“Is it about that guy from the restaurant?”

I blinked at him. “How do you…”

“You were acting weird when you got back. And Lily said he was super tall and looked like someone in a movie.”

I didn’t answer. What could I say? That he was a billionaire who wanted to fake marry me?

That his deal could save our lives?

That he made me feel things I shouldn’t?

Instead, I smiled gently. “Don’t worry about it. Just grown-up stuff.”

Mikey stared at me, eyes far too old for his age. “You look tired.”

I nodded. “I am.”

He picked up his backpack. “You’ll figure it out, Aria. You always do.”

I watched him go, my throat tight. I wish I believed that too.

I spent the next few hours pacing.

One minute, I was convinced I’d say no. That I’d tear the contract apart, call him and tell him to

forget it, to shove his billions and his penthouse and his cold, piercing eyes.

Next, I thought of Mikey.

Of bills. Rent. On the day last year when I almost couldn’t buy him new school shoes. Of the time I cried in the bathroom at the coffee shop because the house agent raised our rent again.

I couldn’t keep living like this.

But marriage?

To someone like Julian?

Even on paper, it felt like selling my soul.

I texted Lily.

You home?

Yup. You okay?

Can I come over?

Ten minutes later, I was on her couch with a cup of tea in my hands and the contract spread between us.

She read it in silence. Her eyes widened. Then narrowed. Then it widened again.

“Aria,” she whispered. “Is this real?”

I nodded.

“Two billion?”

“Yup.”

“And he’s serious?”

“He’s Julian Styles. I don’t think he knows how to joke.”

Lily leaned back, shaking her head. “Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“I mean… damn.”

“I know.”

She stared at me. “Are you thinking about saying yes?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “It’s insane. But it’s also everything we need.”

“Is it just a contract?”

“Yes. On paper. No sex. No real relationship. Just appearances.”

Lily’s eyes flicked to me. “But… would you?”

My face burned. “It’s not like that.”

“But it could be.”

“I don’t even like him.”

“Do you want to?”

I didn’t answer.

She sighed. “Look. You’re not the type to sell yourself. But maybe this isn’t selling. Maybe it’s… investing. In your future. In Mikey’s future. In getting out of this shitty cycle.”

Her words sat heavy on my chest.

I gave her a hug

“ U're the best lily, I don't know what I could have done without you”

“ Go get your billionaire hottie” she laughed

“Fuck u” I laughed out

“Thanks” I said before I left

I left her apartment an hour later with no clearer answer. But her words echoed as I walked back home.

Maybe this wasn’t selling.

Maybe it was surviving.

By the time I returned home, a message had already come through from a private number.

"24 hours. Decision due by 6PM.”

Julian. Of course he didn’t waste words.

I stared at the message, heart pounding.

One year.

No strings.

Two billion dollars.

But also… one year of pretending.

Of sharing space. Of seeing him. Smelling him. Feeling him.

Of risking that I might lose myself in the process.

I showered, changed into clean jeans and a plain tee, and sat at the table again. The pen felt cold in my hand. I stared at the dotted line for a full ten minutes.

And then…

I signed.

The ink sank into the paper like it had been waiting, My chest tightened ,my hands trembled.

But it was done.

I sent a message back to the same number.

“Signed. Where should I bring it?”

The reply came in seconds.

“You’ll be picked up at 9AM tomorrow. Be ready.”

That was it.

No thank you.

No confirmation.

No smiley face.

I dropped the phone on the table and exhaled shakily.

What had I just done?

The next morning came faster than I wanted.

I barely slept again. I packed a small bag, just essentials. Toothbrush. Pajamas. Two changes of clothes. My worn copy of Jane Eyre.

I left Mikey with Lily, told him I had to go for work, and kissed his forehead before I left.

He didn’t ask questions. He just hugged me hard.

At exactly 9:00 a.m., a sleek black car pulled up outside the apartment.

The driver dressed in black with mirrored sunglasses stepped out and opened the door.

My eyes widened to what I had seen. The car that I will drive is a Porsche. All of my life I haven't got to touch an amazing car like this. And now, I am riding on one.I climbed in without a word.

The car felt like heaven to me and I was almost dozing off when they arrived at THE STYLES

The car came to a halt into the compound- towering glass structure in the heart of Manhattan my hands were sweating.

and the guys alighted to open the door car for her.

"What's with the special treatment?" I thought as I stepped down from the car.

“Miss Reed,” he said simply.

The elevator ride to the penthouse was silent.

When the doors slid open, I stepped into a space unlike anything I’d ever seen.

Marble floors. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A view of the skyline that made my heart stop.

I couldn't believe my eyes,as I entered the mansion. It was more beautiful on the inside, with all its expensive interiors, which I was certain was worth much more than my entire life's expenses.

I was greeted by quite a number of employees. They were seventeen in number.

I just smiled at them and let Julian begin the introduction.

"This is Aria Reed, my fiancée," Julian introduced, taking his employees by surprise.

They all had surprised expressions on their faces, making me wonder even more, the kind of man I was dealing with.

If his employees weren't expecting that sort of information then, he was stranger than i had thought.

Julian allowed the information he just revealed to sink into the heads of his employees before he spoke further.

"She will be staying with us from now on. I want you all to treat her with utmost respect… any complaint, whatsoever regarding your services will not be tolerated by me. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir" they all chorused.

Wow! This man is damn good at being a boss. I thought to myself.

After the introduction he left , just like that before I could say anything.

And then

“Miss Reed,” came a soft voice.

I turned.

A woman stood near the kitchen island. Late twenties, pretty, short brown hair tucked behind her ears. Wearing a black uniform with crisp white trim.

She smiled warmly. “I’m Lucy. Mr. Styles’ housekeeper. Welcome”

I blinked. “Oh. Hi.”

“You must be exhausted. Let me show you to your room.”

She walked ahead, humming lightly, leading me down a long hallway.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” she said gently. “He’s not as scary as he looks.”

I tried to laugh, but it caught in my throat. “I’m not nervous.” That's my fiance we are talking about

She glanced back with a knowing smile. “Sure you’re not.”

She opened the door to a bedroom that looked like something out of a magazine king-sized bed, plush rug, massive closet, en-suite bathroom.The chandelier right above the bed was really beautiful, words could not describe this room for me because it already spoke for itself, and that one word was 'Luxury'.

I decided to get my clothes arranged. Walking into the closet, I realized that they had already been placed neatly inside the closet

"They are really good" i murmured to myself

I noticed how insignificant my clothes were in the closet.

"I guess I'll not be needing more of my clothes" I concluded

“Your space. Feel free to make it your own.”

“Thank you.”

“If you need anything… I’m around. Most of the time. I live on the lower floor.”

“Okay.”

She smiled again, then touched my arm. “You’ll be fine, Aria.”

It surprised me that she used my first name.

But somehow… I didn’t mind.

I spent the next hour unpacking, walking around, pretending like I belonged there.

Julian didn’t show up.

Well, how did he expect me to be his pretend wife when I don't know anything about him? I unpacked my clothes in my drawer and decided to explore.

I will check out my room later, then I walked out the door and walked down the hallway stopping to look at various paintings.

I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed. By noon, I wandered into the living room and found Lucy again, dusting some shelves.

“I hesitated. “Do you know him well?”

She looked thoughtful. “I’ve worked for him for ten years, I came here when I was 17. He keeps to himself. But… he’s not cruel. He’s just private.”

Private. Right.

I sat on the edge of the couch. “He doesn’t even seem real.”

Lucy laughed. “He’s real. Just… complicated.”

I found myself wanting to say more, but stopped. I didn’t want to sound like a lovesick fool.

This was just a contract.

Just survival.

Right?

Julian finally arrived late that evening.

I heard the door open. Heard the weight of his steps across the marble floor.

I didn’t turn.

He came to a stop behind me. I felt him before I saw him.

His perfectly built body is very obvious and Sachzna couldn't help but to admire the perfection of his looks. I wondered why he had to look more handsome now and less creepy.

"Done checking me out?" He said with a wide grin on his face. "Okay, good evening” He spoke wondering how many minutes we wasted by staring at each other.

“You signed,” he said.

I nodded.

“You’re officially mine,” he added, almost casually.

I turned slowly. “It’s just a contract.”

His eyes met mine. “For now.”

There was a pause. Then he took off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and walked into the kitchen like he owned the place — which he did.

He poured a drink. Took a sip.

Then looked at me over the rim of the glass.

“You can call me Jules,” he said. “If that makes it easier.”

I raised a brow. “You don’t seem like a ‘Jules.’”

He smirked. “That’s exactly why you should.”