The woman's heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she walked closer. Her long black dress moved elegantly with every step, and the confident smile on her face made Amara instantly nervous. "Adrian," the woman said smoothly as she stopped beside him, "I didn't know you had company." Her eyes slowly moved toward Amara, scanning her from head to toe—the cleaner uniform, the tray still in her hands, the nervous expression on her face. She raised an eyebrow. "And who exactly is this?"
Amara opened her mouth, but no words came out. Adrian answered before she could. "This is Amara." The woman waited, clearly expecting more. "And?" she asked. Adrian looked completely calm. "My girlfriend."
The words fell into the quiet hallway like a sudden thunderclap. Amara's heart almost stopped. The woman's smile froze on her face for a moment before she let out a small laugh. "That's funny." Adrian didn't laugh. "I'm not joking."
Now the woman's eyes hardened. "Adrian, we both know that isn't possible." She crossed her arms and looked directly at Amara again. "A cleaner? Really?" Amara felt heat rush to her face but stayed silent, gripping the tray tightly in her hands. Adrian slipped one hand into his pocket as if the situation meant nothing to him. "You came here for something, Sophia. Say it."
So her name was Sophia. She sighed as though she were tired of dealing with him. "Your father sent me," she said. "I told him you would try to avoid tomorrow's dinner, but he insists that you attend." Adrian didn't react. "He also reminded you," Sophia continued slowly, "that our engagement announcement is supposed to happen soon."
Amara's head lifted in shock. Engagement? She looked at Adrian, but he didn't even glance at her. "That won't be happening," he said calmly. Sophia stared at him. "Excuse me?" Adrian gestured toward Amara. "As you can see, I'm already in a relationship."
Sophia's eyes slowly moved back to Amara, colder this time. "You can't be serious." "I'm completely serious." Sophia stepped closer to Amara, her expensive perfume filling the air. The difference between them was painfully obvious. Sophia looked like someone who belonged on the cover of luxury magazines—perfect hair, perfect dress, perfect confidence. Amara suddenly felt very small in her simple work uniform.
"How much is he paying you?" Sophia asked quietly. Amara blinked in confusion. "What?" Sophia gave a faint smile. "Let's not pretend. Girls like you don't date men like him without a reason." The words stung more than Amara expected. Before she could say anything, Adrian's voice cut in sharply. "That's enough."
Sophia turned toward him, annoyed. "You're embarrassing yourself, Adrian." "No," he replied calmly, "you're embarrassing yourself." The tension in the hallway grew heavier. Sophia took a slow breath as if forcing herself to stay calm. "Fine," she said. "Bring her to dinner tomorrow."
Amara's stomach tightened. Sophia's lips curved slightly. "Actually, I would love to see your father's reaction." She turned to leave, but paused after a few steps. "Oh, and Adrian?" He didn't respond. "If this is some childish attempt to make me jealous, it won't work." Her eyes flicked toward Amara again. "But I do hope your… girlfriend knows what she's getting herself into."
Then she walked away, her heels echoing down the long hallway until the sound slowly disappeared. For a few seconds, silence returned. Amara finally spoke. "You're supposed to marry her?" Adrian looked slightly irritated. "That was my father's plan."
"And you just told her I'm your girlfriend." "Yes." "For real." "Yes." Amara stared at him in disbelief. "You didn't mention the part where your fake girlfriend would be standing in the middle of a family war!" Adrian tilted his head slightly. "You're overreacting."
"Overreacting?" Amara almost laughed. "She looked like she wanted to throw me out the window!" "That's unlikely," Adrian replied calmly. "We're on the twelfth floor." Amara rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache forming. "I can't do this." Adrian watched her quietly. "You already agreed."
"No, I didn't! I was still thinking!" "Think faster," he said. Amara looked at him again. "How can you be so calm?" "Because this problem now has a solution." "And that solution is me?" "Yes."
She stared at him for a long moment before remembering the number he had offered earlier. The money. The hospital bills. Her mother's weak smile. Slowly, her shoulders dropped. "When is the dinner?" she asked quietly. "Tomorrow evening," Adrian answered. "And I have to pretend to be your girlfriend in front of your entire family." "Yes." "And that woman." "Yes."
Amara closed her eyes for a moment, feeling like her life had suddenly turned upside down. Yesterday her world was simple—work, home, taking care of her mother. Now she was somehow involved in billionaire family drama. When she opened her eyes again, Adrian was still watching her. "Relax," he said. "That's easy for you to say." "You'll be fine."
"How do you know?" Adrian's lips curved slightly into a faint smile. "Because starting tomorrow, you're no longer just a cleaner." Amara frowned. "What does that mean?" Adrian glanced toward the elevator before looking back at her. "It means you're going shopping."
"Shopping?" she repeated in confusion. "Yes." "For what?" Adrian looked directly at her. "For a dress worthy of my girlfriend."
Amara stared at him again, and for the second time that day she realized something terrifying. Her normal life was truly over.