Chapter 2:
The rain came again that night—thin as mist, cold as guilt.
Eden stood in the alley behind the Arcadia Grand Hotel where she'd parked her bike, the envelope Cassian had given her clutched in her hand. She could feel the edges of the bills through the paper.
Five thousand dollars. In cash.
For pretending to be someone she wasn't.
She hadn't gone home.
Hadn't eaten.
Hadn't even called her mother back.
Her mind kept looping the same question:
> Am I desperate… or just stupid?
When her phone buzzed, she answered without checking the screen.
"I'll do it," she said.
Cassian's voice was smooth and immediate. "Good. We begin tomorrow. I'll send a car."
She hung up before he could say anything else.
If she thought too long, she might change her mind.
---
The next morning, a black car pulled up in front of her building. It looked like it cost more than her entire student debt.
The driver didn't speak. Just opened the door.
Eden slid in, her hoodie traded for the only decent dress she owned—a burgundy wrap that clung in all the wrong places and felt like it belonged to someone else.
---
Cassian was waiting.
His penthouse was glass and steel, cold and pristine. The kind of place where secrets lived in the walls and nobody ever laughed.
He didn't greet her.
Just looked at her the way a man sizes up a painting—deciding whether to destroy it or put it on display.
Eden crossed her arms. "This isn't charity. You wanted a deal. So let's talk terms."
He nodded and gestured toward the glass coffee table.
A folder waited there.
Inside, a contract.
"You'll attend every event as my fiancée," Cassian said. "You'll smile, hold my hand, say the right things. In return, I'll provide wardrobe, housing, and a monthly stipend. You agree to exclusivity, discretion, and full confidentiality."
Eden raised a brow. "Sounds more like a hostage situation."
"You're free to walk away," he said simply.
She didn't.
"What aren't you telling me?" she asked.
Cassian's jaw flexed. "This is not a romantic arrangement, Miss Blake. It's damage control. My name is worth billions. Yours is worth nothing. That makes you... invisible. And useful."
She smirked. "You really know how to make a girl feel special."
"I'm not interested in feelings, dear Eden."
He slid a small velvet box across the table.
Inside was the same ring she'd worn the night before. Elegant. Expensive.
Beautiful—and cold.
She picked it up. It was heavier than she remembered.
She slipped it on.
Perfect fit.
---
"There's one more thing," Cassian said. "You'll move in."
Eden froze. "What?"
"It's more believable. Engaged couples don't live in separate boroughs."
"You're out of your mind."
"You already said yes. Consider this an upgrade."
"What about my job?"
"Quit it. Or keep it and ruin the illusion. Your choice."
Eden exhaled. This man was impossible.
Controlling. Calculated. Dangerous.
But her debt was real. And so was the opportunity.
"I want ten thousand," she said.
Cassian's eyes glittered. "Now we're negotiating."
---
He showed her to the guest suite—now hers.
It overlooked the Hudson. Decorated in minimalist tones. Everything felt expensive… and lifeless.
The closet was already stocked.
Dresses that belonged on red carpets. Shoes lined up like soldiers. Even lingerie.
Black. Silken. Intimate.
Eden slammed the door shut.
---
"One more thing," Cassian said, appearing in the doorway. "We have dinner tonight. With Gregory. My father."
Eden blinked. "Why do I get the feeling this is the real test?"
Cassian's smile was thin. "Because it is."
---
The restaurant had no sign. Just a six-month waitlist and silent staff.
Cassian arrived with Eden on his arm. Her diamond ring sparkled under the chandelier.
Gregory Wolfe looked like an older, sharper version of his son.
His eyes scanned her like a price tag.
"You're prettier than the last one."
Eden smiled tightly. "And you're more charming than I imagined."
Cassian smirked.
---
Dinner was tense.
Gregory asked questions meant to trip her:
Where did you study?
How did you meet?
Why did you say yes?
"Sometimes," Eden said with a calm smile, "you don't need time. Just certainty."
Gregory's eyes narrowed.
Under the table, Cassian's hand brushed her thigh. A warning? Or approval? She couldn't tell.
---
Back in the car, Eden finally exhaled.
"He doesn't like me."
"He doesn't like anyone," Cassian replied. "He respects performance. You passed."
Then he turned to her, closer than he needed to be.
His voice dropped.
"But if you lie to me again, it's over. No second chances."
"I haven't lied."
"But you haven't told me everything either."
"Neither have you."
For a moment, the air between them was razor-thin.
Then Cassian stepped back, and the edge vanished.
---
"Tomorrow's the charity gala," he said. "You'll be introduced officially. Wear red."
Eden nodded. Then quietly:
"What happens if someone finds out the truth?"
Cassian paused at the door.
"Then we burn the lie," he said.
"And everyone in it."