Chapter 4

"Marriage is not a game. And I never play pretend with my soul," Rob Stark said, his voice as calm as a deep, dark ocean. He spoke with such casual gravity that he might as well have been discussing the morning's stock market opening.

Chloe felt a hysterical bubble of laughter rise in her throat. To hear "marriage is not a joke" from a man like Rob Stark was the ultimate irony.

She began to count on her fingers, her brow furrowed in disbelief. In eighteen years, they had met exactly three times. They were practically strangers who happened to share a childhood trauma.

You want to marry a woman you don't even know because you 'take it seriously'? Are you insane?

"Rob Stark... did you forget to take your medication today?" The words tumbled out of Chloe's mouth before her brain could catch them.

Rob's expression didn't change, but his hand moved to his temple. The air in the room seemed to drop five degrees.

"I am offering you the ultimate shield," he explained with a terrifying, rare patience. "A fake engagement is a flimsy paper wall. A marriage? That is a fortress. If you carry the Stark name, you aren't just a guest in this city-you are its queen. You can walk through New York with your head held high. No one will dare breathe in your direction without permission."

"Why would I want to 'walk sideways' like some neighborhood bully?" Chloe retorted, her sharp tongue once again acting as her own worst enemy. "I'm a woman, not a crab."

The Predator's Breath

This time, the CEO's patience snapped. A vein throbbed visibly in his temple, and his eyes darkened until they were shards of flint.

Chloe instantly regretted it. She bit her lip so hard she tasted copper, screaming at herself internally: Shut up! Just shut up before he throws you into the East River!

Before the tension could explode, a sharp knock echoed through the room.

"Come in," Rob barked, his gaze never leaving Chloe's face.

A frantic assistant cracked the door open, nearly recoiling from the suffocating aura in the office. "Mr. Stark, the car is downstairs. We'll miss the flight to London if we don't leave now."

Rob gave a low, guttural grunt of acknowledgment. He stood up, the movement fluid and powerful, and scribbled a string of numbers on a gold-rimmed post-it note.

As he stepped toward her, Chloe felt the sheer weight of his presence. At 6'1", he loomed over her, his custom-tailored suit radiating wealth and authority. The light caught his diamond cufflink, momentarily blinding her as he thrust the paper toward her.

"Take it," he commanded. "I'll be on a business trip for a week. Use that time to decide. Do you want to play at being my fiancée, or do you want to truly rule by my side?"

Chloe took the note, her fingers trembling as they brushed against his. Even through her coat, his heat was electric.

The Lawyer's Heart Attack

Later that evening, Jake Tully stumbled into her apartment, exhausted from a day of legal warfare. She found Chloe curled up on the velvet sofa, looking like a lost kitten-except the "kitten" was holding a crystal glass filled with Jake's most expensive, vintage Cabernet.

"Chloe Bishop! Unless you've inherited a small country in the last four hours, you are officially banned from my wine cellar!" Jake shouted, though her heart softened when she saw Chloe's flushed face. The alcohol had brought a soft pink glow to her pale skin, making her look alive for the first time in years.

Jake dropped onto the sofa and snatched the bottle. "Well? Did the Ice King agree to the fake engagement, or do I need to start looking for a different billionaire for you to blackmail?"

Chloe shook her head slowly, her eyes wide and glassy.

"Ugh!" Jake groaned, throwing her head back. "I knew it. Don't drown your sorrows in my $500 wine, Chloe. It was a long shot anyway."

"Actually," Chloe whispered, her voice thick with shock. "He told me he doesn't do 'fake.' He said he wouldn't sign the engagement papers... because he wants to marry me for real."

Pffft!

A spray of expensive red wine painted the coffee table.

"Cough... ack!" Jake choked, gasping for air as if she'd been hit in the chest. "Chloe... tell me right now. Exactly how many glasses of that wine did you have before I got home?"