Chapter 2 Nathan's perspective

Nathan Cole adjusted his cufflinks with practiced precision, the smooth click of silver against fabric echoing faintly in the quiet expanse of his office.

The city skyline stretched before him like a glittering maze-orderly, predictable, and best observed from above.

From up here, he could pretend the world operated according to logic and numbers. Emotions didn't rise this high. Not at this altitude.

He stood silently for a moment, hands clasped behind his back, his reflection caught faintly in the floor-to-ceiling glass.

Tall, sharp-jawed, immaculately dressed. The image was everything he'd worked for-cold, composed, untouchable.

Behind him, the steady tick of the wall clock pulsed like a heartbeat. He didn't need to check the time.

His mind tracked every second naturally, like a system hardwired to efficiency.

Nathan had built his entire life around the idea of control.

He had learned the hard way that when you lose control, everything else can crumble.

He had seen it before in his own life. The betrayal, the lies, the loss. And that had been the turning point-his decision to never again allow his heart to overrule his mind.

His thoughts turned again to Mira, and for a brief moment, the thought of her stirred something in him.

She was a woman with strength, a woman who had sacrificed for her family.

That was something he could respect. But respect and affection were two different things, and he was only interested in the former.

Affection was not part of the equation here.

He turned, returning to the sleek glass desk at the center of the room, its surface cleared save for his phone and the leather-bound folder he had reviewed earlier.

Inside it was everything there was to know about Mira Lawson.

Twenty-seven years old. Schoolteacher. Graduated top three in her class. Works at a local private school with a modest salary.

No debts, no scandals, no affiliations with the press. The kind of woman who wouldn't question his authority or try to leverage his name for attention.

And yet, Nathan had spent over an hour this morning thinking about her.

Not out of curiosity. Curiosity was an indulgence.

It was strategy.

Business was always his first and foremost priority, and tonight was no different. He checked his watch, then glanced at his phone again.

No message. Yet.

Her father was critically ill. Stage four cancer. A pile of hospital bills and barely any savings to handle them.

The situation was bleak-bleak enough that Mira would do anything to save her father.

Including marrying a man she had never met.

Nathan's eyes narrowed slightly at the thought. This wasn't about romance. This was about necessity.

The board of his company had been on edge for months, whispering about instability in leadership.

A man like Nathan-young, wildly successful, unmarried-was a risk to them. Marriage, they said, would present an image of stability, maturity, and commitment.

And if there was one thing Nathan knew, it was that image ruled perception. Perception ruled power.

He didn't need a wife.

He needed an anchor. Someone to serve as a quiet, respectable shield against public scrutiny.

Someone who would sign on the dotted line and play their role without complication. Mira Lawson fit the role too perfectly to ignore.

His phone buzzed. A single message. He picked it up.

> Evening.

He stared at the screen, expression unreadable. It was Mira's response to his earlier text: When can we meet?

That was it. No punctuation. No delay.

Evening.

Efficient.

She was already playing her part.

He set the phone down slowly and leaned back into his leather chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

Most people would hesitate, ask questions, beg for time. Mira hadn't. That intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

Still, intrigue was dangerous. Dangerous like the woman who had once upended his life with her charm and lies.

Nathan's jaw tightened. He didn't allow himself to remember her name, not anymore.

But the memory lived beneath the surface like a splinter. Years ago, he'd let his guard down. He had let himself believe that love-real love-was enough to overcome betrayal.

He had been wrong.

Very wrong.

The memory played like a movie reel, uninvited. The woman with the smile that made promises she never kept.

The quiet manipulation. The moment he'd discovered that everything had been a game to her.

That she had only loved the idea of his wealth and the prestige that came with his name.

Three years ago, Nathan Cole was engaged to Selene Ward, a poised, ambitious woman from a powerful family.

She was everything the media adored-elegant, educated, and endlessly charming.

Nathan, still rising in the business world at the time, believed she was his equal. He let his guard down.

He shared secrets, dreams, and vulnerabilities he had never voiced aloud.

They were the "power couple" everyone watched.

Selene had a way of making him feel seen, needed even, in a world that only respected results.

She was his first real weakness.

They were engaged for six months. The media called them the "future of corporate royalty."

Nathan let her into his home, his world, his company. He trusted her with access-emails, meetings, conversations meant only for his inner circle.

What he didn't know was that Selene's family was drowning in debt, and her engagement was a mission.

A silent heist disguised as love.

But just weeks before their wedding, Nathan discovered the truth.

Selene had been feeding confidential information about his company to a rival firm-one her family secretly backed.

It was a calculated move, masked by love.

She planned to marry him, gain access to his assets, and gradually redirect power back to her family's crumbling empire.

What she hadn't counted on was Nathan catching her.

One slip-an email she thought she deleted-exposed it all.

Nathan didn't confront her with rage. He cut her off in silence.

Within 24 hours, the engagement was broken, her access revoked, her reputation quietly destroyed without scandal. He never gave her the satisfaction of a fight.

But the damage was done.

Since then, Nathan stopped believing in love. Every relationship became a transaction.

Every emotion is a liability.

Selene taught him that love could be a disguise for ambition-and that trust was the most expensive currency of all.

She had left him broken. Embarrassed. And worse-exposed.

He had rebuilt himself from the ashes of that humiliation, brick by calculated brick. No more softness. No more weakness disguised as affection.

Since then, he built his empire on logic. Cold, unfeeling logic.

His relationships had been transactional-brief encounters with clear expectations. He never gave his heart away again. He never intended to.

And he certainly wouldn't now.

He rose from the chair again, moving toward the bar cart at the edge of the office. He poured a small glass of whiskey, watching the amber liquid catch the sunlight.

Mira Lawson would be his wife in name only.

There would be no late-night conversations, no stolen glances or shared laughter.

She would live in his house, wear the ring, attend the charity galas, and smile for the cameras.

But their lives would remain separate, and when the time came-when the board's faith was restored and his empire fully secured-she would walk away with a generous settlement and a clean record.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

He took a sip, letting the heat burn its way down his throat. A flicker of something crossed his features, quickly buried again.

He hated that this step was even necessary. But appearances mattered.

And the world had a strange way of believing in love when it came wrapped in diamonds and designer wedding gowns.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," he called, his voice clipped but controlled.

Riley, his assistant, stepped inside. A tall, sharp-eyed woman with impeccable instincts and zero tolerance for inefficiency.

"The legal team finalized the marriage contract," she said, placing a file on the desk.

"Non-disclosure clauses, asset protection, behavioral expectations. Everything you specified."

Nathan nodded. "Good."

"Do you want me to send it to Miss Lawson?"

"Not yet," he said. "We'll meet first. I want to look her in the eyes before this becomes official."

Riley gave a small nod. "Understood. The press is still unaware?"

"For now," he replied. "And it needs to stay that way."

She hesitated. "And... you're sure she's the right one?"

Nathan met her gaze evenly. "She's desperate. That makes her obedient."

Riley didn't respond to that. She didn't have to. She understood the nature of his world. In his empire, emotions were a currency he refused to trade.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"No, sir."

She left the room, and Nathan turned back toward the window, the city gleaming like a promise beneath his feet. He finished the whiskey in one swallow and set the glass aside.

Tomorrow, he'd meet the woman who would become his wife.

And then he'd make sure neither of them ever forgot that this was nothing more than a contract.