Lucien Pembroke woke at five-thirty sharp, the same time he'd woken every morning for the past fifteen years. No alarm needed. His internal clock was as precise as the Swiss watch on his nightstand.
The master bedroom of his Hamptons estate was bathed in the soft gray light of dawn, floor-to-ceiling windows offering an unobstructed view of manicured gardens that stretched toward the private beach beyond. This was home. Not the penthouse in the city, not the corporate apartment above his office, but this sprawling Georgian mansion that had been in the Pembroke family for three generations.
He pulled on running clothes and stepped outside into the crisp morning air. The estate was silent except for the distant sound of waves and his footsteps on the gravel path. Five miles every morning, the same route through the grounds his grandfather had walked, then his father, now him.
As he ran, his mind inevitably drifted to the problem that had been consuming him for months. The Chen-Nakamura merger. Fifty billion dollars and the future of Pembroke Conglomerate hanging in the balance.
It had started eight months ago when Robert Chen first approached him about the possibility of a three-way partnership. Chen Industries controlled manufacturing across Southeast Asia, Nakamura Holdings dominated the Japanese electronics market, and Pembroke Conglomerate had the American distribution networks they both needed.
The numbers were staggering. Combined, the three companies would control nearly thirty percent of the global electronics trade. It would make Pembroke Conglomerate the undisputed leader in international commerce.
But Chen and Nakamura were old-fashioned men who valued tradition above profit margins. They wanted to do business with someone they could trust, someone who demonstrated the stability and commitment that came with family obligations.
"A man without a wife has no anchor," Chen had said during their first meeting. "How can we trust someone to honor long-term commitments when he cannot commit to a woman?"
Lucien had dismissed it initially. Business was business. Personal life was irrelevant.
But as negotiations progressed, it became clear that his marital status wasn't just a preference for Chen and Nakamura. It was a requirement.
For six months, he'd delayed making any decision about marriage. He had no interest in the institution. Not after watching his parents' toxic relationship destroy everything it touched. Not after learning that his mother had betrayed his father to authorities when Lucien was eight, leading to a scandal that had nearly destroyed the family business.
Marriage was a liability. But apparently, it was also a business necessity.
Three weeks ago, Chen had issued an ultimatum.
"We've waited long enough, Lucien. Either you demonstrate your commitment to stability, or we look elsewhere for our American partner."
That morning, Lucien had been heading to the office to review merger documents. But something had made him detour past the university district. Maybe it was the unusually quiet streets, maybe it was a subconscious desire to delay another conversation with Marcus about suitable marriage candidates.
He'd spotted the coffee shop and decided he needed caffeine.
He hadn't expected attitude from a barista who looked like she was barely out of college.
"Are you always this unnecessarily complicated, or is today special?"
The words had hit him like a physical blow. Not because they were insulting, but because they were honest. When was the last time someone had spoken to him without calculating his net worth first? When was the last time someone had looked at him and seen just a man making an annoying coffee order instead of Lucien Pembroke, billionaire CEO?
And then she'd refused his tip.
Refused it. With that particular expression of polite distaste that suggested she'd rather starve than accept what she clearly viewed as charity.
In a world where everyone wanted something from him, this little woman had wanted nothing at all. She'd dismissed him completely, as if he was nobody special.
For some time he couldn't stop thinking about her attitude. The kind of stubborn, bone-deep pride that couldn't be bought or borrowed or faked. It was the kind that would make her perfect for what he needed.
Because if he had to get married, it would be to someone who understood exactly what the arrangement entailed. Someone who needed his money badly enough to agree to the terms but proud enough to maintain the illusion convincingly.
Someone who wouldn't develop inconvenient emotional attachments because she already disliked him.
The background check had taken Marcus four hours. Lior Elena Atheria, twenty-two, final year medical student with a 3.9 GPA. Mother hospitalized with cancer requiring surgery that insurance wouldn't cover. Student loans totaling nearly two hundred thousand dollars. No criminal record, excellent academic standing, worked multiple jobs to survive.
Perfect.
Desperate enough to consider an unconventional arrangement. Proud enough to play the role convincingly. Smart enough to understand the terms. And with clear goals that had nothing to do with him personally.
Lucien finished his run and headed back to the house, where Mrs. Patterson had coffee waiting in the kitchen. She'd been the housekeeper since before he was born, maintaining the estate with quiet efficiency.
"Good morning, Mrs. Patterson."
She nodded, already moving to prepare his usual breakfast. "The car will be ready at eight, sir."
"Thank you."
Lucien reviewed emails on his tablet while eating, his mind already shifting to the day's priorities. His phone buzzed with a message from Marcus.
An hour later, Marcus called as Lucien's car approached the city.
"Sir, I've scheduled a meeting with Mrs. Pembroke at the Carlisle Hotel. Private dining room, two o'clock."
"Fine."
"Should I brief her on appropriate responses, or..."
"I'll handle Mrs. Pembroke."
At precisely two o'clock, Lucien walked into the elegant private dining room at the Carlisle Hotel. He expected to find the same overwhelmed woman from City Hall, the one who'd clutched that contract folder like a lifeline.
Instead, he found Lior Atheria sitting straight-backed in her chair, wearing a simple black dress that managed to look both professional and expensive. Her green eyes met his with the same direct gaze that had irritated him at the coffee shop.
"Mr. Pembroke," she said coolly. "Thank you for finally deciding to grace me with your presence. I'm flattered."
Lucien paused in the doorway. This was not the tone he'd expected.
"Mrs. Pembroke." He moved to the chair across from her, noting how she watched his every movement with calculating eyes. "We need to discuss something important."
"Oh, we need to discuss a lot more than that." Lior leaned forward slightly, and he caught a glimpse of the steel beneath her polite exterior. "Starting with the fact that you expect me to convince business partners we're happily married when I don't know the first thing about you."
The waiter appeared to take their order, and Lucien found himself momentarily distracted by the way Lior handled the interaction. Polite but confident, like she'd been dining in expensive hotels her entire life instead of working double shifts at coffee shops.
"Coffee, black, and the salmon," she told the waiter. Then she turned back to Lucien with raised eyebrows. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Are you going to order, or do you need me to do that for you too?"
Smart mouth. The thought came unbidden, followed immediately by irritation. At City Hall, she'd been quiet, overwhelmed, signing papers with trembling hands. What had happened to that woman?
"Whiskey, neat. Nothing else."
The waiter disappeared, leaving them alone. Lior folded her hands on the table and studied him with an expression that reminded him uncomfortably of his third-grade teacher.
"Right. Let's start with the basics. What's my favorite color?"
"I have no idea."
"Green. What's my coffee order?"
Lucien's jaw tightened. "I'm not playing twenty questions."
"This isn't a game, Mr. Pembroke. You're asking me to convince traditional family men that we're so in love we got secretly married. Do you know what questions they're going to ask?" She didn't wait for his response. "How did we meet? When did you propose? What was our first date? Where did we go on our honeymoon?"
She was right, and that irritated him more than her tone. But why did it look like she was the boss in this relationship?
"How did we meet?" she continued, ticking points off on her fingers. "Because 'I needed a wife for business purposes and she needed money' probably won't impress them."
"We met at the coffee shop where you work."
"Worked. Past tense." Her voice carried just enough sarcasm to make his temples throb. "But fine, coffee shop romance. Very down-to-earth. What attracted you to me?"
The honest answer - her complete dismissal of his wealth and status - wouldn't work for their current narrative.
"Your intelligence," he said finally.
"How flattering. And what attracted me to you?"
Lucien found himself studying her face, looking for any trace of the nervous woman from the night they got married. Instead, he saw sharp intelligence and a confidence that hadn't been there before. Or perhaps it had, and he'd been too focused on her desperation to notice.
"Money," he said bluntly.
Lior's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"
"You were attracted to my money. Most women are."
The silence that followed was deadly. When Lior spoke again, her voice was dangerously quiet.
"Mr. Pembroke, if you think I'm going to sit in front of your business partners and simper about how much I love your bank account, you're more delusional than I thought."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"That you learn how to act like a man who's actually capable of inspiring genuine affection instead of just writing checks."
Lucien felt his temper spike. Who did this woman think she was?
"Careful, Mrs. Pembroke. You're being paid quite well to play a role."
"And you're paying me quite well to play it convincingly. Which means you need to give me something to work with besides your charming personality and modest ego."
The waiter returned with their drinks, and Lucien used the interruption to regain his composure. He was not going to be lectured by a coffee shop worker, regardless of what her marriage certificate said.
But as he watched Lior sip her coffee with perfect composure, completely unintimidated by his displeasure, he found himself wondering if the trembling woman at City Hall had been an illusion.
"Here's what we're going to tell them," Lior continued as if they hadn't just had a minor confrontation. "We met six months ago when you started coming to the coffee shop regularly. You were dealing with a lot of business stress, and I was one of the few people who treated you like a normal person instead of a walking dollar sign."
Despite himself, Lucien found the narrative surprisingly close to the truth.
"You started lingering after your coffee, asking about my studies, my family. I was initially resistant because of our different backgrounds, but you were persistent. Charmingly persistent."
"Charmingly persistent," he repeated flatly.
"Yes. You have to learn charm, apparently. We'll work on that." She took another sip of coffee, studying him over the rim. "The proposal happened three weeks ago. Quiet, romantic, very private because we both value discretion. The wedding was small, just immediate family, because I'm not comfortable with publicity."
"And where exactly did this romantic proposal take place?"
"The coffee shop. After hours. You had Marcus arrange for us to have the place to ourselves." Lior's eyes held a hint of amusement. "It was very thoughtful of you."
Lucien rubbed his forehead. This woman was giving him a headache.
"What about the honeymoon?"
"We're planning to take one after I finish my medical boards. Work comes first for both of us, which shows we're compatible and responsible."
"How convenient."
"I thought so." Lior leaned back in her chair, looking pleased with herself. "Now, let's talk about how you need to behave."
"How I need to behave?"
"Yes. Because right now, you're acting like a man who hired an actress to play his wife. We need you to act like a man who's actually married to someone he cares about."
Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose. "And how exactly does one accomplish that?"
"Well, for starters, you could try looking at me like I'm a person instead of a business transaction."
"You are a business transaction."
"Not in front of the partners you want to convince you're happily married." Lior's voice carried a edge of steel. "In front of them, I'm the woman you love enough to marry. Which means you need to act like you know me, like you enjoy my company, like you chose me for reasons that have nothing to do with merger requirements."
She was right. Again. And that was becoming extremely irritating.
"Any other helpful advice?" he asked, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.
"Actually, yes." Lior smiled, and for the first time since he'd entered the room, she looked genuinely amused. "You should probably know that I have a tendency to speak my mind. Just in case that comes up."
Lucien stared at her, realizing that somewhere between City Hall and this moment, his quiet, overwhelmed contract wife had transformed into someone who might actually be more trouble than the merger was worth.
This was going to be a very long eighteen months.