Chapter 4: A World of His Own
Evelyn didn't know what to expect when she agreed to Alexander's terms. But as she stood in front of the sleek black limousine parked outside her family's modest shop, she felt the ground shift beneath her feet.
"This feels surreal," she muttered under her breath, clutching the strap of her bag like a lifeline.
Alexander stepped out of the car, his presence commanding as ever. He wore a charcoal-gray suit that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe combined. "Ready?" he asked, his tone brisk, as though this were another board meeting and not the start of their unorthodox arrangement.
"No," Evelyn replied honestly.
His lips twitched, but he didn't smile. "You'll get used to it."
She doubted that.
With a deep breath, she slid into the limo, her senses overwhelmed by the leather seats, the faint scent of cologne, and the silent driver who nodded respectfully as Alexander followed her inside.
The car hummed to life, and the city blurred past the tinted windows. Evelyn stared out, trying to ignore the tension coiling in her stomach.
"This isn't going to work," she blurted out after a few moments of silence.
Alexander raised an eyebrow. "We haven't even started."
"I mean…" She gestured vaguely. "This. Us. We're from completely different worlds. I don't belong in yours."
"That's precisely why it will work," he said, his tone annoyingly calm. "You're an outsider. No hidden agendas, no ulterior motives."
Evelyn turned to him, her frustration bubbling over. "You really think that just because I'm not after your money or power, I'm going to fit into your perfect little plan?"
His gaze didn't waver. "I don't need you to fit in. I need you to act the part. That's all."
She shook her head, leaning back against the seat. "You make it sound so simple."
"It is," he said, as though willing it to be true.
But Evelyn wasn't convinced.
By the time the limo pulled up to his estate, Evelyn was no closer to finding her footing. The iron gates parted, revealing a sprawling mansion surrounded by manicured lawns and towering trees. It was the kind of place she'd only seen in magazines—beautiful, cold, and utterly unwelcoming.
"Wow," she whispered, stepping out of the car.
Alexander appeared at her side, his hands in his pockets. "It's home."
"Home," she repeated, glancing at the towering structure. It looked more like a museum than a place where people actually lived.
He led her inside, the marble floors gleaming under the soft glow of chandeliers. Evelyn's footsteps echoed in the cavernous space, making her feel small and out of place.
"Mr. Hayes," a stern-looking woman greeted them, her gaze briefly flicking to Evelyn before returning to Alexander. "Everything is prepared as you requested."
"Thank you, Margaret," Alexander said, dismissing her with a nod.
Evelyn waited until the woman disappeared before turning to him. "She doesn't look too thrilled about this."
"Margaret's job is to manage the household, not form opinions about my personal life," Alexander said.
Evelyn sighed, her earlier defiance fading into exhaustion. "Where do I…?"
"I'll show you," Alexander interrupted, gesturing for her to follow him.
He led her up a grand staircase and down a long corridor. When he stopped in front of a door, he opened it to reveal a room that was as luxurious as it was impersonal.
"This is where you'll stay," he said.
Evelyn stepped inside, taking in the king-sized bed, the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the closet that looked bigger than her entire apartment.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered.
Alexander leaned against the doorframe, watching her with an unreadable expression. "You'll get used to it."
She spun around, her frustration flaring. "Stop saying that! I'm not going to get used to any of this. I don't belong here, and you know it."
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes—something that almost looked like regret.
"You belong here as long as I say you do," he said quietly. "Remember that."
His words sent a chill down her spine, but before she could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the room that felt more like a gilded cage than a sanctuary.
Evelyn sank onto the edge of the bed, her head in her hands.
What had she gotten herself into?