đ The Billionaire's Contract Bride Chapter 1: The Contract
The rain poured heavily over the glittering skyline of Dhaka city. Inside a small apartment near the busy streets, Maya Rahman sat on the floor, surrounded by unpaid bills.
Her fingers trembled as she stared at the final notice from her landlord.
"Three days. Pay the rent or leave."
Three days.
Three days to save her dream.
Maya closed her eyes. She had always believed in hard work. After losing her parents at a young age, she built everything from nothing. She studied fashion design, worked part-time jobs, and dreamed of opening her own boutique someday.
But dreams didn't pay rent.
Her phone buzzed.
It was an unknown number.
She hesitated before answering.
"Hello?"
A deep, calm male voice responded, "Miss Maya Rahman?"
"Yes."
"You applied for the personal designer position at Khan Group."
Her heart skipped. Khan Group?
That meant Armaan Khan â the youngest billionaire CEO in the country. Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable.
"Yes, I did," she said quickly.
"Report to Khan Tower tomorrow at 10 AM. Don't be late."
The call ended.
Maya stared at her phone in disbelief.
Was this real?
The Next Morning
Khan Tower stood tall like a symbol of power. The building's glass walls reflected the golden sunlight. Maya felt tiny standing in front of it.
She adjusted her simple blue dress and walked inside.
Everyone around her looked polished and confident. She felt out of place.
After waiting for thirty minutes, the assistant led her to the top floor.
The CEO's office.
The door opened slowly.
And there he was.
Armaan Khan.
Tall. Sharp jawline. Black suit perfectly fitted. His dark eyes looked at her like he was reading her soul.
"Sit," he said, without smiling.
Maya obeyed.
He didn't look at her again for a full minute. He kept signing papers calmly.
The silence was suffocating.
Finally, he spoke.
"You need money."
It wasn't a question.
Maya froze. "Excuse me?"
He pushed a file toward her.
Inside it was her background check. Her rent issue. Her bank balance.
Her face turned pale.
"You investigated me?"
"I investigate everyone who works for me."
His tone was cold but not angry. Just⊠powerful.
"I applied for a designer job," she said, trying to keep her dignity.
"And I'm offering you something better."
He stood up and walked toward the window.
"I need a wife."
Maya blinked.
"What?"
"A contract marriage. Six months. Public appearance only. No emotional involvement."
Her brain stopped working.
"This is a joke, right?"
"I don't joke."
He turned and looked directly at her.
"My grandfather is pressuring me to get married. My company shares depend on family image. I need a simple, scandal-free woman. You need money."
He paused.
"I'll pay you fifty million taka."
The room felt like it was spinning.
Fifty million.
That was more than she could ever dream of.
"There will be rules," Armaan continued.
"You will move into my penthouse. You will attend events with me. You will act like my loving wife."
"And after six months?"
"We divorce. You disappear. You keep the money."
Maya's heart pounded violently.
This was crazy.
Immoral.
Dangerous.
But her landlord's notice flashed in her mind.
Three days.
"What's the catch?" she whispered.
He walked closer.
So close she could smell his expensive perfume.
"You must never fall in love with me."
Her breath caught.
"And you?" she asked bravely.
A faint smirk appeared on his lips.
"I don't believe in love."
Later That Evening
Maya walked out of Khan Tower in a daze.
Fifty