Chapter 2 The Cold CEO

Amira

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Vincent Devereux's calculating smile. I kept checking on Jace, just to make sure he was really there, safe in his bed. By morning, dark circles shadowed my eyes, but it didn't matter. Today wasn't about looking pretty. It was about securing our future.

"You're sure you'll be okay?" I asked Jace for the third time as I grabbed my purse. I'd told him I had a job interview-technically not a lie. This was a job. A year-long performance as someone's wife.

"I'm fine, Amira," Jace said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not a baby."

"You're my baby brother," I said, ruffling his hair. "And after what happened-"

"I don't want to talk about it." His face closed off, the way it always did when something upset him. "Just go to your interview. I'll be here when you get back."

I hesitated, then nodded. We'd have to talk about it eventually, but not today. "There's leftover pasta in the fridge. Don't answer the door for anyone."

"I know, I know."

I kissed his forehead, ignoring his teenage protest, and headed out. Just as Vincent had promised, a sleek black car waited by the curb. The driver, a stone-faced man in a suit, opened the door without a word.

As we drove through the city toward Manhattan, I stared out the window at the passing buildings. Each mile took me further from my old life and closer to something unimaginable. My stomach twisted with every turn.

The Devereux building rose like a spear of glass and steel against the sky. I'd seen it in photos, of course-everyone in New York knew the Devereux Tower-but standing at its base made me feel impossibly small.

The driver escorted me through a private entrance and into an elevator that required a keycard. We rode in silence to the top floor, where the doors opened directly into a vast office suite.

Vincent Devereux was waiting, along with a thin, severe-looking woman clutching a tablet.

"Miss Wynters," Vincent said, not bothering to stand from behind his massive desk. "Punctual. Good. This is Ms. Chen, my personal assistant. She'll be handling the... logistics of our arrangement."

Ms. Chen barely looked at me, her fingers flying over her tablet. "The documents are prepared, sir."

"Excellent." Vincent gestured to a chair across from his desk. "Sit, Miss Wynters. Let's finalize our agreement before my grandson arrives."

I sat stiffly, eyeing the thick stack of papers Ms. Chen placed before me. "I'd like to read everything before signing."

A flicker of annoyance crossed Vincent's face. "Of course. Though I assure you, everything we discussed is included."

I took my time, scanning each page carefully despite the weight of Vincent's impatient stare. Law school had taught me to never sign anything without reading the fine print-especially when dealing with someone like Vincent Devereux.

The contract was surprisingly straightforward. One year of marriage. Public appearances as required. $20,000 monthly allowance. Five million upon completion. Jace's education funded through a separate trust. Full confidentiality. Divorce after exactly 365 days with no contest.

What it didn't mention was my father's alleged debt, or any connection between him and the Devereux family.

"There's nothing here about clearing my father's debt," I said, looking up.

Vincent's thin smile didn't reach his eyes. "That's a separate matter, which has already been handled." He slid a folder across the desk. "The loan sharks have been paid in full. Your father's debt to our company has been... reclassified as an investment loss."

I opened the folder to find receipts and legal documents confirming his claims. It seemed too easy, but everything appeared legitimate.

"And my brother's safety?" I asked.

"Is guaranteed, so long as you fulfill your end of this contract." Vincent tapped a manicured finger against the desk. "Now, if you're satisfied, please sign where indicated. My grandson will be arriving shortly, and I'd prefer to have this matter settled before he does."

My hand trembled slightly as I picked up the pen. This was it-the point of no return. I thought of Jace, of the fear in his eyes when he came home yesterday, of all the opportunities he'd have with his education secured. Taking a deep breath, I signed my name on every flagged page.

Vincent's smile widened as he took the contract. "Welcome to the family, Miss Wynters. Or should I say, the future Mrs. Devereux."

The words sent a chill down my spine.

Ms. Chen cleared her throat. "Sir, Mr. Devereux has arrived."

Vincent's expression shifted subtly. "Send him in."

The double doors at the far end of the office swung open, and I got my first glimpse of the man who would be my husband.

Lucien Devereux strode into the room like he owned it-which, I supposed, he technically did. Tall and imposing in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, he moved with the confident grace of someone who never questioned his place in the world. His dark hair was cut in a style that probably cost more than my monthly rent, and his jawline could have been carved from marble.

But it was his eyes that caught me-piercing blue and utterly, frighteningly cold.

He didn't look at me as he approached his grandfather's desk. "You said this was urgent."

His voice was deep, with the clipped precision of someone who expected every word to be heeded.

"Lucien," Vincent said smoothly, "I'd like you to meet Amira Wynters. Your fiancée."

Those ice-blue eyes finally turned to me, narrowing slightly. I felt stripped bare under that gaze, examined and found wanting in the span of a heartbeat.

"What the hell is this?" Lucien asked, his tone dangerously quiet.

Vincent leaned back in his chair. "This is me solving your problem, grandson. The trust requires marriage within the month. Miss Wynters has agreed to fulfill that requirement."

Lucien's jaw tightened. "And what makes you think I'd agree to this... arrangement?"

"Because the alternative is watching everything you've built crumble." Vincent's voice hardened. "I've already explained the situation to Miss Wynters. She understands this is a business transaction, nothing more. One year of marriage, after which you both go your separate ways."

Lucien's gaze returned to me, colder than before. "And what do you get out of this... transaction?"

I lifted my chin, refusing to be intimidated despite the hammering of my heart. "Financial security."

A bitter smile twisted his lips. "At least you're honest about being a gold-digger."

The insult stung, but I kept my expression neutral. "And you're honest about being an ass."

Something flickered in his eyes-surprise, maybe-before his face hardened again.

Vincent cleared his throat. "The papers are signed. The wedding is scheduled for Saturday."

"This Saturday?" Lucien and I spoke in unison, then glared at each other.

"Time is of the essence," Vincent said, standing. "Ms. Chen will handle the details. Small ceremony, close family only. We'll announce it to the press afterward." He turned to me. "Ms. Chen will take you shopping this afternoon. You'll need an appropriate wardrobe for your new position."

Lucien's hands clenched into fists. "I didn't agree to this."

"You don't have a choice," Vincent said flatly. "Unless you're prepared to hand control of the company to me."

The two men stared at each other, tension crackling between them like electricity. Finally, Lucien's shoulders stiffened.

"Fine." He turned that glacial stare on me again. "Let's be clear, Miss Wynters. This changes nothing about my life. You'll stay out of my way, play your part when required, and we'll both get what we want from this farce."

I met his gaze steadily. "Believe me, Mr. Devereux, the last thing I want is to get in your way."

His eyes narrowed fractionally before he turned back to his grandfather. "Is that all?"

Vincent nodded. "For now. Ms. Chen will send you the details for Saturday."

Without another word or glance in my direction, Lucien stalked out of the office, the door slamming behind him.

I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Don't take it personally," Vincent said, sounding almost amused. "Lucien treats everyone that way."

Somehow, that wasn't comforting.

Ms. Chen stepped forward. "We should get started, Miss Wynters. We have a lot to accomplish before Saturday."

+**The next few hours passed in a blur. Ms. Chen whisked me through exclusive boutiques where salespeople fawned over us, bringing outfit after outfit for my "new position." No one specifically mentioned what that position was, but the clothes they selected screamed "trophy wife"-designer dresses, tailored pantsuits, shoes that cost more than my rent.

I tried to focus on the practicalities-these clothes would be part of my uniform for the next year-but the unreality of it all kept hitting me in waves. By the time Ms. Chen dropped me off at my apartment building with promises to collect me tomorrow for "wedding preparations," I felt like I'd been run over by a truck.

Jace was playing video games when I walked in, surrounded by empty snack packages. He looked up, then did a double-take.

"Holy crap, Amira! What are you wearing?"

I glanced down at the designer outfit Ms. Chen had insisted I wear home-a cream silk blouse and tailored black pants that probably cost more than our entire wardrobes combined.

"Part of the job," I said vaguely, setting down the shopping bags. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged, returning to his game. "Fine. What job gives you clothes like that?"

I sank onto the couch beside him, trying to figure out how to explain. "Jace, we need to talk."

Something in my tone made him pause the game and turn to me, suddenly wary. "What's wrong? Are they coming back?"

"No, no," I said quickly. "The loan sharks are gone for good. That's part of what I need to tell you." I took a deep breath. "I'm getting married."

His controller clattered to the floor. "You're WHAT?"

"On Saturday," I continued, wincing at his shocked expression. "To Lucien Devereux."

Jace's mouth opened and closed several times before he managed, "The billionaire guy? The one whose face is always in those business magazines? How is that even possible? You don't know him!"

"It's... complicated," I said, then realized how ridiculous that sounded. "It's a business arrangement, Jace. He needs a wife for legal reasons, and I... well, we need the money."

Understanding dawned in his eyes. "This is how you got the loan sharks to let me go?"

I nodded slowly. "His grandfather made an offer. One year of marriage in exchange for paying off the debts and setting us up financially." I reached for his hand. "Your education will be fully funded. No more worrying about rent or bills. We can finally have some security."

Jace pulled his hand away. "So you're selling yourself. Like... like..."

"It's not like that," I insisted, though part of me wondered if he was right. "It's a contract. A job. I'll be his wife in name only."

"Right." Jace stood up, face flushed with anger. "And what happens when he expects more than just your name?"

"Jace! It's not-he's not-" I fumbled for words. "You don't understand. It's just business to him. He barely looked at me."

"And what about Dad's debts? You always said we'd figure it out together."

I swallowed hard. "This is how we're figuring it out. And there's something else..." I hesitated, unsure how much to tell him. "I think Dad might have been involved with the Devereux family somehow. Before he died."

Jace frowned. "What do you mean, involved?"

"I don't know exactly. But Mr. Devereux-Vincent-he had photos. Documents. Dad might have worked for them at some point."

"And you're just telling me this now?" Jace's voice rose.

"I just found out yesterday! I'm still trying to make sense of it myself." I reached for him again, but he stepped back.

"So you're marrying into the family of people who might have had something to do with Dad's death? Are you insane?"

The thought had occurred to me, but hearing it from Jace made it sound even worse. "I don't know that they had anything to do with it. And this way, I might be able to find out what really happened."

Jace's eyes widened. "So what-you're going to play detective while playing house with some rich jerk?"

"I'm doing what I have to do to protect us," I said, my own temper flaring. "To protect you."

"I don't need protecting!" he shouted. "I need my sister, not some billionaire's fake wife!"

With that, he stormed to his room, slamming the door behind him.

I sank back onto the couch, exhaustion washing over me. This was just the beginning, and already everything was falling apart. My brother thought I was making a terrible mistake. My future husband clearly despised me. And Vincent Devereux was playing some game I didn't understand.

My phone buzzed with a text from Ms. Chen:

Car will collect you at 9 AM tomorrow. Pack essentials only. Everything else will be provided at Mr. Devereux's penthouse, where you'll be living starting tomorrow.

Tomorrow. I was moving in with a stranger tomorrow. Becoming his wife in three days.

I thought of Lucien's cold eyes, the contempt in his voice when he called me a gold-digger. Maybe Jace was right. Maybe I was making a terrible mistake.

But then I remembered the fear in Jace's eyes when he came home yesterday, the relief when I told him the loan sharks were gone for good. I remembered the stack of unpaid bills in my drawer, the constant knot of anxiety that had lived in my stomach for months.

One year. I could do anything for one year if it meant Jace would be safe and secure.

And maybe, just maybe, I'd discover the truth about my father along the way.

With a heavy sigh, I got up and began packing the few possessions I'd take to my new life-including the envelope of documents Vincent had given me about my father. Whatever game the Devereux family was playing, I wasn't going to be just a pawn.

I might have signed a contract to be Lucien Devereux's wife, but I hadn't agreed to be anyone's fool.