Elena's POV
The coffee tastes like dirt, but it's warm and costs two dollars.
I've been sitting in this booth for three hours, making one cup last because I have nowhere else to go. The 24-hour diner is nearly empty, just me, a tired waitress, and a truck driver eating pie at the counter.
My phone screen glows in the dim light. Another news article. Another lie.
Financial Analyst Elena Martinez Arrested for Corporate Fraud
Except I wasn't arrested. But the truth doesn't matter anymore.
I scroll through my contacts. Fifty-three people. I've tried calling twelve of them tonight. All blocked my number. The rest won't answer.
My family? I haven't spoken to them in five years. Not since my mother died and her secrets died with her. My father, my real father, doesn't even know I exist. Or maybe he does and just doesn't care.
I'm alone. Completely, utterly alone.
The diner door chimes. I don't look up. Don't care who walks in at midnight on a Monday.
My bank app refreshes: $43.18
I spent four dollars on coffee and a muffin I couldn't finish. At this rate, I have enough money for maybe three more days. Then what?
Sleep on the street? Beg?
My eyes burn, but I'm too empty to cry anymore. I've cried enough today to last a lifetime.
Rough day?
I jump. A man slides into the booth across from me without asking.
Excuse me, this seat is The words die in my throat.
He's tall. Maybe six-foot-two. Dark hair perfectly styled despite the late hour. Gray eyes that look silver under the fluorescent lights. An expensive black coat that probably costs more than my rent.
No. More than my entire wardrobe.
And he's staring at me like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve.
Elena Martinez, he says. Not a question. A statement.
My blood turns to ice. Who are you?
Someone who knows you didn't steal that money. He leans back, completely relaxed. Like sliding into strangers' booths at midnight is normal. Your boss Steven Palmer did. He's been embezzling for two years. You just made a convenient scapegoat.
I grip my cold coffee cup. How do you know that?
Because I make it my business to know things. His lips curve slightly. Not quite a smile. Especially when those things can be useful.
Useful? Anger flares in my chest. My life is destroyed and you think it's useful?
Your life doesn't have to be destroyed. He signals the waitress. Two coffees. Black.
I didn't order
I did. Those gray eyes pin me in place. Now. Elena Martinez. Twenty-seven years old. Financial analyst for Palmer Investments until approximately nine hours ago. Engaged to Derek Chen until six hours ago. Evicted from your apartment four hours ago. Currently homeless with forty-three dollars to your name.
My mouth goes dry. You've been following me?
I've been watching you for three weeks, actually.
That's, I should be terrified. I should run. But something in his voice stops me. He's not threatening. Just honest. Brutally, coldly honest.
Who are you? I demand.
He extends his hand across the table. Adrian Blackwell.
The name hits me like a punch.
Adrian Blackwell. The fallen billionaire. Former CEO of Blackwell Industries who lost everything six months ago in a massive corporate scandal. The business world called him a failure. Some said he went crazy. Others said he disappeared.
But he's here. In a cheap diner at midnight. Talking to me.
I don't shake his hand. What do you want?
To make you an offer. He pulls back his hand, unbothered by my rejection. The waitress sets down two fresh coffees. Adrian waits until she leaves. You need money. I need a wife. Let's make a deal.
I almost laugh. Almost. A wife?
For one year. A business arrangement. Nothing more.
You're insane.
Perhaps. He sips his coffee. Perfect calm. Like proposing marriage to strangers is just another Tuesday. But I'm also your only option right now. So I suggest you listen.
I should leave. This man is clearly unstable. But he's right about one thing, I have no other options.
Talk, I say.
Adrian's eyes gleam. My family stole my company. Made me look incompetent. Ruined my reputation. But my father's will has a clause, if I'm married and can prove stability for one year, I can challenge the board's decision. I can take back what's mine.
So marry someone else.
I need someone smart. Desperate. And most importantly, someone with nothing to lose. He tilts his head. You fit perfectly.
The words should sting. They don't. Because he's right.
I have nothing left to lose.
What's in it for me? I ask quietly.
Five million dollars when the year ends. All expenses paid while you're my wife. A new identity if you want it. And, He slides a folder across the table, proof that Steven Palmer framed you. Enough evidence to destroy him and clear your name.
My hands shake as I open the folder. Inside are documents. Financial statements. Emails. All showing Steven's theft. All showing my innocence.
How did you get this? I whisper.
I told you. I make it my business to know useful things. Adrian watches me carefully. I can give this to the authorities. Have Steven arrested by morning. But I want something in return.
My cooperation.
Your marriage.
I close the folder. My mind races. This is insane. Marrying a stranger for money? For revenge?
But what choice do I have? Sleep on the streets? Starve? Let Steven destroy my life while he walks free?
What are the terms? I hear myself ask.
One year. We maintain the appearance of a stable marriage. No feelings. No complications. Separate bedrooms. When the year ends, you get your money and we never see each other again.
That's it?
That's it. Adrian's face is unreadable. You help me reclaim my empire. I help you reclaim your life. Simple business transaction.
Nothing about this is simple.
But I'm drowning, and he's offering a rope. Even if that rope might strangle me.
I need time to think, I start.
No. Adrian cuts me off. You don't. Because right now, the police are processing a warrant for your arrest based on Steven's false evidence. By morning, you'll be in jail. Unless you're married to me.
My heart stops. What?
My lawyers can block it. But only if you're my wife. Only if you're under my protection. He checks his watch. So you have about sixty seconds to decide. Stay here and go to prison for a crime you didn't commit. Or marry me and get everything you lost back.
You're blackmailing me.
I'm saving you. His gray eyes bore into mine. But I need an answer. Now.
Prison. Or marriage to a stranger.
My entire future balanced on one impossible choice.
I think about Derek walking away. Steven's satisfied smile. The reporters' cameras flashing. My former friends blocking my number.
Everyone abandoned me. Everyone betrayed me.
Adrian Blackwell is offering me revenge. Money. A future.
All I have to do is sell one year of my life.
I meet his cold gray eyes. See my own desperation reflected back.
When do we start? I whisper.
Adrian's lips curve into something that might be a smile. Might be victory.
He pulls a pen from his coat. Slides it across the table with a single piece of paper. A contract, already written. Like he knew I'd say yes.
Sign here, he says. And we'll be married by noon tomorrow.