The door to her apartment creaked as Emma stepped inside, letting the faint light from the street lamp cast her shadow onto the walls. She closed the door quietly, leaning back against it as she finally allowed herself a moment to breathe. Her mind raced, her heartbeat unsteady as she replayed the events from the bakery. She hadn't told a soul—not her best friend, not even the regulars at Sweet Embrace. Adrian Blackwood's offer was still unreal, a strange, dangerous bargain that had turned her life upside down in a single night.
What am I doing? she thought, exhaling shakily. She was a practical woman, not prone to fantasies or quick decisions. Yet here she was, on the verge of marrying a stranger because of a promise to her mother and a stack of bills she couldn't pay. She knew it was absurd, irrational, maybe even reckless. But something about Adrian's intensity—the way he'd looked at her as if she were the only person in the room—had held her spellbound, making it impossible to refuse.
She shook her head, pushing away the thoughts that made her heart beat faster than it should. This was a business arrangement, she reminded herself. She was simply trading one set of burdens for another.
She pulled her phone from her bag and hesitated, finger hovering over the contact for her best friend. But no, she couldn't tell her, not yet. No one could know. Not until she was certain what she was stepping into.
Just get some rest, she told herself. It'll be clearer tomorrow.
The next morning, Emma was jolted awake by the loud, persistent knock at her door. The sound sliced through the haze of her restless sleep, and she blinked at the clock in confusion. It was barely 7 a.m.
Wrapping herself in her robe, she opened the door cautiously. A man in a black suit and cap stood in the hallway, holding a garment bag and a small box.
"Miss Thompson?" he asked, his tone polite but brisk. "Mr. Blackwood has sent a car for you."
Emma's eyebrows shot up. Of course, he did. Adrian's world didn't seem to include waiting for someone to come to him; he was the type to bring them to him instead.
The man handed her the garment bag and box without waiting for a reply. "Please be ready within the hour. I'll be waiting in the car downstairs."
Without another word, he turned and walked down the hall, leaving Emma staring after him.
For a moment, she stood in the doorway, blinking at the bag in her hands. Then, reluctantly, she stepped inside, closed the door, and sank onto her couch, letting the weight of the situation wash over her.
One hour. What the hell have I gotten myself into?
After a quick shower, Emma took a deep breath and unzipped the garment bag. The dress inside was a deep, rich shade of green, with soft fabric that fell elegantly to the floor. She ran her hands over it, appreciating the fine quality. It was something out of a dream—definitely not something she'd ever pick for herself. The small box contained a pair of simple yet sophisticated earrings, matching heels, and a delicate bracelet. All of it screamed wealth, a reminder of the life she was being pulled into, whether she liked it or not.
The thought of meeting Adrian again sent a flutter through her chest. She knew she was stepping into a world of power and privilege, but something about Adrian's command over it all, his casual authority, made her feel small and exposed. Yet she couldn't back down now. Not after everything she'd agreed to.
Forty minutes later, Emma stepped outside, the weight of the dress pulling gently at her shoulders as she walked down the stairs of her apartment building. The limo waited in front, the sleek black car an intimidating contrast to the crumbling neighborhood around her. The driver stepped out with a nod, opening the door for her.
She slid into the car, taking in the plush interior. For the first time in years, she felt the sting of her own inadequacies—an uncomfortable reminder of how little she truly had. The car's plush seats felt too soft, too foreign.
As the car sped through the city, Emma stared out of the window, half-watching the familiar streets pass by, half-lost in her thoughts. She felt as though the world was closing in around her, each turn bringing her closer to Adrian's domain.
By the time they reached Blackwood Industries, Emma's nerves were frayed. The building loomed ahead, a gleaming testament to Adrian's wealth and influence. The driver took her inside, passing through security with minimal interaction. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being observed, studied by invisible eyes.
Her mind raced with questions she didn't have answers to, but as they walked toward the elevator, the receptionist, a sharp-eyed woman with impeccable posture, greeted her without hesitation.
"Miss Thompson, Mr. Blackwood is expecting you. Right this way."
The walk to Adrian's office felt like an eternity. The walls were lined with modern art, the sleek floors polished to perfection. It wasn't just the grandeur of the building—it was the overwhelming presence of wealth that filled every inch of the space.
Emma's breath caught when the receptionist opened the door to Adrian's office. The room was spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city. There were no walls separating him from the world—just glass and open space, a bold statement of the kind of man Adrian Blackwood was. She felt small the moment she crossed the threshold.
Adrian was standing by the window when she entered, looking out over the skyline. His posture was relaxed, but there was an unmistakable aura of command that radiated from him. As she stepped further into the room, he turned to face her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Emma," he greeted, his voice smooth, as if he hadn't just made a life-changing proposal to her the night before. "I trust the drive was comfortable?"
She hesitated before answering, feeling the eyes of the room, of him, on her. "Comfortable and… surprising," she said, her words measured, but her tone more cautious than she intended. "This isn't exactly the kind of place I'm used to."
He smirked, gesturing for her to sit. "Well, it's about to become more familiar."
Emma forced herself to stay composed as she sat in the chair across from him. Her gaze flickered around the room—his empire in miniature. She could already sense the difference between her world and his. There was no comfort in this space, only cold, calculated efficiency.
"So, what happens next?" she asked, eager to get to the heart of this strange, unsettling arrangement.
"Next," Adrian began, his voice casual, as if he were discussing a routine business meeting, "we formalize the terms of our agreement. I'll have my lawyer draft the paperwork, but I wanted to go over the basics with you personally first."
Emma nodded, though her hands fidgeted slightly in her lap. She could already feel the nerves taking hold, but she forced herself to focus on what he was saying. She had to know exactly what she was walking into.
"First, we'll arrange a private wedding, something low-key to avoid drawing too much attention," Adrian continued, his voice measured and smooth. "Afterward, we'll make our first public appearance as a couple at a gala my family is hosting. It's the perfect opportunity to introduce you to them—and to make the engagement appear genuine."
Emma's stomach tightened. The last thing she wanted was to walk into a room full of strangers, pretending to be something she wasn't. Pretending to be his fiancée. But the thought of the bakery's fate, of the debts she couldn't pay, pushed her forward. She had no other choice.
"I don't know if I can do this," she muttered, the weight of her own words suddenly pressing down on her.
Adrian studied her, his eyes softening just a fraction. "I'm not asking you to fall in love with me, Emma. You just need to play the part. You'll be well-prepared. I'll make sure of that."
She met his gaze, searching for something that would reassure her. But all she saw was the same confidence, the same control he exuded the night before. There was no comfort here, just the cold promise of security.
"And what about after the gala?" she asked quietly. "What happens when we're alone?"
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady, calculating. "We'll have separate residences, though you'll stay in my penthouse on certain occasions to keep up appearances. I'm not expecting anything more than what we agreed on, Emma. You'll have your privacy, and I'll have mine."
He leaned back, studying her as though gauging her reaction. "But there will be times when you'll need to play the part convincingly. In public, we'll be a couple. You'll be expected to… reciprocate affection when necessary."
Emma's throat went dry, and her face flushed involuntarily. Affection. The word felt like a heavy weight hanging between them. She wasn't sure she could do this—could pretend to feel something she didn't. But she knew she had no choice.
"I understand," she said finally, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions roiling within her.
Adrian's smile was slow, satisfied. "Good. Now, let's get you settled in."
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Adrian introduced her to his personal assistant, a sharp-eyed woman named Lila, who helped Emma fill out the necessary paperwork and went over the schedule for the coming weeks. Emma could feel Lila's eyes on her at every turn, as though measuring her up, testing whether she could fit into this polished, demanding world.
By the time the evening arrived, Emma felt like she was drowning in details. There was no time to process, no time to breathe. She was being pulled along by currents she didn't understand, and every step felt like it took her further from her own reality.
But there was no turning back now. The gala would be her first true test, the first time she would be forced to play her part in front of the world.
And Adrian Blackwood would be watching every move she made.