She called Chloe, who came over immediately, armed with wine and her characteristic bluntness.
"He's insane," Chloe said after Elara had explained the offer. "Or you're insane for even considering it. Probably both."
"What else am I supposed to do?" Elara asked, her voice hollow. "I'm out of options, Chloe. The gallery is dying. My father is dying. And Julian Thorne is the only person with the power to stop it."
"By marrying you," Chloe said incredulously. "Do you understand what that means? You'd be tied to him legally. He could demand anything from you. He could"
"It's a contract," Elara interrupted. "One year. Then we divorce. He's not asking me to be his actual wife. He's asking me to play a role."
"And you believe him?" Chloe's voice was sharp with disbelief. "Elara, men like Julian Thorne don't do anything without expecting a return on their investment. He wants something from you. The question is what."
Elara had asked herself the same question a hundred times. Why would a billionaire CEO want to marry a struggling gallery owner? What could she possibly offer him that he couldn't buy with his money? The only answer she could come up with was that he wanted to control her, wanted to own her in the way that he owned everything else in his life.
But even that was better than losing everything.
"I'm going to do it," Elara said quietly.
Chloe stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. "Then I'm going to help you. Because if you're going to marry a psychopath billionaire, you're at least going to do it with your eyes open."
The next morning, Elara called Julian's office and requested a meeting. She was transferred to his assistant, a woman named Patricia who spoke with the efficiency of someone who had managed a powerful man's schedule for years.
"Mr. Thorne can see you at three o'clock," Patricia said.
At exactly three o'clock, Elara was standing in Julian's office again, her heart pounding so hard she thought she might faint. Julian was waiting for her, his expression unreadable.
"I have conditions," Elara said without preamble.
Julian smiled, and it was the smile of a predator who had just cornered its prey. "Of course you do. Tell me."
"First, the marriage is in name only. You don't have any claim on my body or my personal life. Second, I continue to run the gallery. You don't interfere with my business decisions. Third, when the year is over, we divorce cleanly, and I get to keep the money you promised. And fourth, you tell me why you really want to do this. I deserve to know the truth."
Julian considered her conditions with the intensity of a chess player studying the board. "The first three are acceptable," he said finally. "As for the fourth... Let's just say I have my reasons. And I think you'll find that knowing them would only complicate things."
It wasn't the answer Elara wanted, but it was the answer she was going to get. She took a deep breath and extended her hand. "Then we have a deal."
Julian's hand closed around hers, and his grip was warm and firm and utterly devoid of gentleness. "We have a deal," he agreed. "I'll have my lawyers draw up the contract. We'll marry in two weeks. In the meantime, I suggest you prepare yourself for your new life, Miss Vance. It's going to be very different from anything you've experienced before."
As Elara left his office, she felt like she had just made a deal with the devil. And the terrifying part was that she wasn't entirely sure she had made the wrong choice.