The next morning hit like a slap of cold wind.
She arrived at her office earlier than usual, the city barely awake outside her high-rise window. The air inside was still and cold, tinged with the scent of paper, leather, and the faint trace of jasmine from her perfume. Her heels echoed sharply against the glossy marble floor as she crossed the room with single-minded purpose.
She tossed her designer bag onto her chair, pulled out the crisp folder she had placed there the night before, and sat down heavily. Her fingers hovered over her keyboard, but her mind spun, calculations, consequences, whispers of her family's disapproval all coiling in her chest like smoke.
Then—
Knock. Knock. A brisk rap at the door.
Athena's head snapped up. "Come in."
The door creaked open, and Ivy stepped inside, her face tight with worry, her eyes flicking to the folder in Athena's hands like it might explode.
"Hey…" Ivy said gently. "How are you this morning? Please tell me you've come to your senses."
Athena blinked slowly, jaw tightening. "Not now, Ivy."
She pushed the folder across the desk with a click. "The contract is ready. Tell me you found someone."
Ivy sighed and lowered herself into the chair opposite. She reached into her oversized tote, pulled out her tablet, and placed it on the desk like it weighed a thousand pounds.
"I did. Barely. Out of the fifty matchmaking services I emailed, only one responded. This," she turned the tablet around. "Is the only man willing to go through with something this insane on such short notice."
Ivy watched Athena, her brows drawn in a tight line, concern etched into every corner of her face.
Across the desk, Athena sat stone-still, eyes pinned to the image glowing from the tablet's screen. The man's face was sharp, confident. Handsome, even. But Athena didn't flinch, didn't soften. She just… stared.
Ivy leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle but insistent.
"Athena," she said, "are you absolutely sure this is what you want?"
Her words hung in the air like dust in sunlight, weightless but hard to ignore.
"We don't know him," she continued, her tone threading the line between reason and plea. "You don't know if he'll be the kind of man you can even tolerate, let alone live with. What if he's... wrong?"
Athena didn't answer, so Ivy tried again, softer this time.
"Why not just… take the 90-day ultimatum? Breathe. Let yourself try. Who knows—" she paused, choosing her words with care, "—you might even fall in love before the deadline."
A silence followed, thick and humming, as if the room itself were holding its breath.
Athena's gaze remained locked on the tablet, her eyes unmoving, jaw set.
"I'm not looking for love," she said finally, her voice low but steady. "And I'm sure as hell not going to let my family think they can keep pulling my strings… belittling me… parading their expectations like shackles."
She blinked once, slowly. Her expression didn't waver.
"This man, whoever he is, he's willing. That's all I need. I don't care if he's tall, short, charming, or dull. I'm not choosing a soulmate. I'm making a statement."
Her eyes lifted, meeting Ivy's.
"He'll do. All that's left is to add his name to the contract, and we're set."
Ivy exhaled quietly, as if she'd been holding her breath. "Wow… This is really happening."
A slow smile tugged at Athena's lips, dry and amused. "Yes," she said, and her voice softened slightly, playfully. "And let's be honest, his name alone sounds like a fantasy novel hero. Roman Knight."
She gave a short laugh, shaking her head.
Ivy reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. "Fantasy or not, I think we should do some digging. Just a quick search," she said, already typing. "At least let's find out who he is… and what makes him this desperate."
"There's no need," Athena replied, her tone clipped but calm. "I didn't ask for compatibility, I asked for desperation. And a man desperate enough to marry a stranger in a week for a payout? That's exactly who I wanted."
"But… you're really going to be Mrs. Knight without knowing anything about him?" Ivy asked, frowning as she looked up. "No background check, no history, nothing?"
Athena's expression sharpened.
"I am not going to be Mrs. Knight," she said, each word firm as iron. "I'm not taking anyone's name, Ivy. And I'm not giving any man the illusion that he has power over me."
She sat up straighter, her presence electric now, controlled, but burning beneath the surface.
"He's marrying me," she continued. "But I'm the one calling the shots."
Athena's fingers flew across her keyboard, sharp clicks cutting through the silence. Then she hit send and turned to Ivy.
"The contract is in your inbox. Forward it to the matchmaker. If he's still interested, he can come in person and sign it here, with a witness."
"Tea and signatures. How romantic," Ivy said dryly.
Athena grinned. "And after that, we're going shopping. I need a wedding dress that says: 'Yes, I bought a husband, and I look fabulous doing it.'"
—
Across town, in a sleek, dimly lit office…
Roman was kicked back in his leather chair, ankles crossed on his mahogany desk, tossing a stress ball lazily from one hand to the other.
Mike, his best friend and business partner, stood by the espresso machine, watching him with narrowed eyes.
Then came a sharp ping.
Roman glanced at his monitor, clicked the email, and froze.
He sat up straight. A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. "Oh, this just got interesting."
Mike frowned. "What?"
Roman turned the screen toward him. "I'm getting married next week."
Mike nearly choked on his coffee. "What?! Married to who?"
Roman smirked. "To the woman who insulted me yesterday. My mystery bride just sent me a contract."
Mike blinked. "You're not serious."
Roman's eyes flicked back to the screen. "Oh, I'm dead serious. The contract states I move in with her, take her last name. Ha! And agree to father a child within the first year. Wait for it, through artificial insemination only."
He burst into laughter.
"This woman is either a genius… or absolutely insane."
"Or both," Mike muttered. "Does she know who you are? That you're you?"
"Nope," Roman replied, still chuckling. "And that's what makes this fun. She has no idea that the man she insulted yesterday is the man she's about to marry. She's in for one hell of a surprise."
Mike stared at him. "Wait. You used a fake name?"
Roman nodded, smug. "Roman Knight. Clean alias. She thinks I'm just some average guy willing to trade vows for cash."
"She's going to walk out the second she sees you," Mike warned.
"That's why she won't," Roman said coolly. "I'll send someone else to sign the papers."
"What? Like who?"
"You."
"What?! No!" Mike stood. "You've lost your mind."
"I was kidding," Roman said, chuckling again. "Relax. I'll send in the guy from the profile photo. It's already agreed. He'll sign, then I'll step in after the ink is dry."
Mike groaned. "Why go through all this trouble?"
Roman's voice dropped, darker now. "Because she called me a waiter. Because she looked me dead in the eyes like I was nothing."
He leaned back in his chair.
"No woman rejects me. No woman controls me. So, if she wants a contract marriage? Fine. But she's going to fall. And when she does… I'll be the one calling the shots."
Mike shook his head. "This is crazy. You're going to get us both killed."
Roman's grin widened. "Then I'd better look good for the funeral. Let's go find me a suit."