Chapter 1 A Million Dollar Fake

"Five sugars, whipped cream, extra hot," Eden rattled off her usual order, the steam from the coffee shop door fogging her glasses. Balancing her overflowing purse and a stack of medical bills, she scanned the crowded cafe.

"Rough morning?" a deep voice rumbled beside her.

Startled, Eden nearly tripped over her own feet. A man, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit, stood a hair's breadth away. His eyes, the color of stormy gray, held a hint of amusement.

"Just another day juggling a sick brother, a demanding boss, and the ever-mounting bills," she sighed, shoving the medical papers deeper into her purse.

"Sounds like you could use a break," the man said, his voice a low murmur.

Eden eyed him suspiciously. Tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating an aura of power, he looked like he'd never had to worry about a single bill in his life. "Unless you're offering to pay for my entire medical debt, I wouldn't call this a break."

A flicker of surprise crossed the man's face, quickly replaced by a ghost of a smile. "Actually, I might have a proposition that could solve a few of your problems."

Intrigued despite herself, Eden raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess, you need someone to walk your dog?"

"Something a bit more... unique," he replied, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "How would you like to be a millionaire?"

Eden choked on her lukewarm coffee, sputtering disbelief. "Excuse me?"

The man, still a stranger to her, chuckled, a deep, rich sound. "A million dollars," he repeated, leaning closer. "For six months of your time. All you have to do is pretend to be someone you're not."

"And who exactly would I be pretending to be?" she asked, skepticism warring with a flicker of desperate hope.

"My fiancee."

The words hit Eden like a slap. Fiancée? To a stranger in a designer suit? This whole situation had a whiff of a bad B-movie plot.

Sensing her hesitation, the man extended a hand. "The name's Damon Blackwood. And I assure you, this proposition is very real."

Eden stared at the hand, long fingers adorned with a heavy gold watch. Damon Blackwood. The name sent a jolt through her. He was the CEO of Blackwood Enterprises, a global powerhouse known for its ruthless efficiency and its enigmatic leader.

"Why me?" she finally blurted. "Out of all the women in the city, why a random secretary with a mountain of debt?"

"Discretion," Damon replied simply. "I need someone with nothing to lose, someone who wouldn't be swayed by the glamour of the position. Someone exactly like you."

Eden studied him, searching for any sign of deceit. His eyes, though guarded, held a flicker of vulnerability. Maybe he wasn't just some heartless billionaire seeking a trophy wife. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to this offer than met the eye.

"Tell me everything," she said, her voice firm.

Damon ushered her into a quiet corner booth, his movements practiced and precise. He explained his need for a temporary fiancee. A high-profile business deal hung in the balance, and a public image makeover was crucial. Apparently, the ruthless CEO persona wasn't cutting it in the world of international negotiations.

He presented a detailed contract: a million dollars for six months of her time, with a hefty bonus for maintaining secrecy. The clauses were strict, outlining her public duties and the importance of maintaining a convincing facade.

Eden skimmed through it, her mind racing. A million dollars could solve all of Liam's medical problems, and maybe even give him a chance at a normal life. But the idea of pretending to be engaged to a stranger, a man shrouded in mystery, made her skin crawl.

"What about your family?" she asked, glancing at the diamond-encrusted wedding band on her own finger, a leftover prop from a high school play she somehow hadn't gotten around to removing.

"They're not a factor," Damon replied curtly.

His tone gave her pause. There was a coldness there, a hint of a past she wasn't privy to. This entire situation felt laced with secrets, adding to the trepidation bubbling in her stomach.

She looked at the contract, then back at Damon. The image of her brother's pale face and his tired smile flickered in her mind. This was a chance, a chance to give Liam a future.

With a deep breath, Eden picked up a pen. "Alright, Mr. Blackwood," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "Let's make you a fake fiancee."

A flurry of activity filled the following days. Eden, bombarded with fittings and etiquette lessons, felt like she was living in a whirlwind. The elegant clothes felt foreign against her skin, the designer shoes pinched her toes, and the social graces drilled into her by a stern-faced consultant made her head spin.

Damon, meanwhile, remained a distant figure. They'd met briefly once more to finalize details, his demeanor as cold and unreadable as ever. He was a whirlwind of meetings and phone calls, a man seemingly burdened by the weight of his empire.

One afternoon, amidst a frustrating lesson on ballroom dancing, her phone buzzed. It was a message from an unknown number, a single cryptic line: "Meet me at the park, 7 PM. Alone."

Eden's heart pounded. A secret meeting? Was this part of the act, or something more sinister? An unsettling feeling gnawed at her. Curiosity, however, warred with a healthy dose of fear.

By seven, dusk had painted the park in hues of purple and orange. The air was crisp, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the wind. As she entered the clearing, a tall figure emerged from the shadows. It was Damon.

"What is this about?" she asked, her voice wary.

"There are things you need to know," he said, his voice low.

He explained, in clipped sentences, about a past betrayal that left him jaded and guarded. He spoke of a ruthless stepmother, a woman who wielded power through manipulation and deceit. Veronica Blackwood, he revealed, was the reason he needed a fake fiancee, a public shield to deflect unwanted attention.

"She controls everything," he concluded, a bitter edge to his voice. "This deal, this facade, it's all a way to gain some semblance of control back."

Eden listened, her initial apprehension fading into a flicker of understanding. This wasn't just about a business deal. This was a battle, a quiet war Damon was fighting against a formidable opponent.

"So, why me?" she asked, her voice soft.

He looked at her, his gaze intense. "Because you have nothing to lose," he said, a hint of something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "And because, for some reason, I trust you."

The air crackled with unspoken emotions. Eden didn't know what exactly she was getting herself into, but she knew one thing for sure: this million-dollar proposal had just become a whole lot more complicated.