Livia sat alone in her tiny apartment, clutching a cup of lukewarm tea that had gone cold hours ago. The morning sun barely peeked through the grimy window, casting dim shadows across the cluttered room. Her mind kept replaying the conversation from last night.
The proposition had been shocking—marriage for six months, with no questions asked. It sounded like a nightmare, but her brother's life depended on her making this terrible choice.
She looked at her phone, anxiously waiting for the call that would set everything in motion. Every minute felt like an hour. Her stomach churned with anxiety and guilt.
*What am I doing?*
*Am I really about to marry a stranger?*
But then she remembered Dito's fragile face, his tiny hands clutching her as fever raged through his body. The desperation in her chest grew stronger.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated. Her heart skipped a beat.
It was a message: **"Meet me tonight at the Grand Plaza Hotel, Room 1208. 8 PM."**
She stared at the message, her pulse pounding.
*This is it.*
---
**That evening, the hotel lobby was bustling with activity.** The air was thick with perfume, the chatter of businessmen and women, and the soft hum of elevators. Livia arrived early, her heart pounding in her chest.
She checked into Room 1208, her hands trembling as she adjusted her dress. She felt out of place among the luxury and sophistication surrounding her.
The door opened suddenly, and Reynaldi appeared, calm and composed. His dark eyes instantly captured her attention—sharp, intimidating, yet strangely reassuring.
"Ms. Hartono," he greeted softly, stepping inside. "Thank you for coming."
She nodded, trying to steady her voice. "I'm here."
He closed the door, leaning against it gently. "Good. I want to clarify a few things before we proceed."
Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
He took a step closer. "This isn't just a marriage of convenience. It's a pact. During these six months, you'll be my wife—publicly, privately, everything. And I need to trust that you understand what that entails."
Her heart pounded. "I… I understand. But why me? Why did you choose me?"
He paused, studying her intently. "Because I see something in you. You're strong, resilient. You're not just desperate—you're brave. And I believe you're capable of handling what's coming."
Her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and confusion. "I'm just… trying to do what's best for Dito."
He nodded solemnly. "I get it. But I want you to know—this isn't just about the deal. I have my reasons, and I will protect you—at least, as much as I can."
Livia looked away, her mind racing. **Protect her?** She didn't know whether to believe his words or see them as part of his calculated plan.
Then he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small envelope.
"This contains the details of the agreement," he said, handing it to her. "Read it carefully. No surprises."
She opened the envelope and skimmed the document. It was formal, precise. But what caught her attention was the clause at the bottom: **"This marriage is for six months, with an option to extend or terminate by mutual agreement."**
Her eyes widened.
"Is this really happening?" she whispered.
He nodded. "Yes. And once it's over, we go our separate ways. No strings attached—unless you want to stay."
Her heart fluttered painfully. Could she really do this?
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed again. A new message flashed on the screen: **"Be ready. Tonight."**
Her stomach twisted.
"I… I need a moment," she whispered.
Reynaldi studied her, then nodded. "Take your time. I'll be outside."
As he left, she sank onto the bed, overwhelmed. Her mind was a storm of conflicting thoughts—fear, hope, shame.
*Am I really about to marry a stranger?*
*Will I survive this?*
And most of all—*what happens after?*
---
**Later that night,** she found herself walking into the grand lobby of the hotel, her heels clicking against the marble floor. The air was thick with tension.
She spotted him immediately—Reynaldi—waiting against the wall, his eyes dark and unreadable.
He approached her silently, leading her to a private lounge. Once inside, he poured two glasses of champagne.
"Drink," he said softly. "It'll help ease your nerves."
She hesitated, then took the glass, her fingers trembling.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He looked at her, studying her face. "You're brave, Livia. I know this isn't easy. But I promise—this is only temporary. We're doing this for your brother."
She nodded, her throat tight. "I just… I hope I'm making the right choice."
He smiled faintly. "Sometimes, you have to take a leap of faith."
Suddenly, the door opened, and a man entered—professional, sharp, and intimidating.
"Mr. Arka," he announced. "Everything is ready for the signing."
Reynaldi turned to her, his expression serious. "It's time."
She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of what was to come.
And as they headed to the adjoining room to finalize the deal, her heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination.
*This is just the beginning.*