Chapter 5 The Cold CEO

Amira's POV

The first time I saw Lucien Devereux, he didn't even look at me.

He sat at the end of a long glass table like a king on a cold throne...shoulders square, fingers folded neatly in front of him, eyes staring out the floor-to-ceiling window behind him.

His suit was dark, crisp, and perfect. His entire presence screamed control, wealth, and danger. And when I stepped into the room with Vincent beside me, he didn't so much as blink.

"This is Amira Wynters," Vincent said, his voice smooth but firm. "Your wife-to-be."

Lucien finally turned his head.

For a second, everything around me faded. His eyes were sharp, almost cruel, and so dark they felt like a wall. Cold. Emotionless. Judging.

His gaze moved over me slowly-my worn-out jeans, the faded coat I borrowed from a neighbor, the nervous grip I had on the strap of my bag. He didn't hide his disapproval.

"She'll do," he said.

That was all.

No greeting. No handshake. Not even a fake smile.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, fighting the urge to leave. But I couldn't. Not when Jace's life was hanging in the balance.

Vincent motioned to the chair across from Lucien. "Sit, Amira. Let's go through the terms."

I hesitated, then lowered myself onto the leather chair. It felt far too soft for someone like me.

A thick document was placed in front of me. The contract. My eyes scanned the first page, but the words blurred.

Too many legal terms. Too many lines about responsibilities, appearances, confidentiality... and marriage.

Lucien remained silent as Vincent spoke.

"You'll be married for twelve months. In that time, you'll attend public events, live together, and act as husband and wife to the media. No questions. No scandals."

I forced myself to nod.

Vincent looked directly at me. "At the end of the year, the marriage ends. You'll receive the full five million, and this entire matter is forgotten."

I took a shaky breath.

"And Jace?" I asked quietly.

Vincent's face softened just a little. "The loan sharks have been handled. Your brother is safe and already on his way home. You did the right thing coming to us."

A wave of relief hit me so fast I almost cried. I kept my face calm, but inside I was shaking.

Jace was safe. That was all that mattered.

"I'll do it," I said, my voice steady.

Vincent smiled. "Good. Then let's make it official."

The pen was cold in my hand. I signed my name beside Lucien's. My heart thudded with every stroke. This wasn't just a signature-it was a lock closing around my life.

Lucien stood without a word.

Vincent gestured to a second man waiting by the door. "Julien will take you to the penthouse. You'll be moving in today."

"Now?" I blinked.

Lucien's voice cut in, sharp and final. "The sooner we get this over with, the better." He didn't even wait for me. Just simply walked out of the room.

*******

Julien drove me in silence, weaving through the streets of the city in a sleek black car that smelled like leather and money.

I stared out the window, my fingers fidgeting in my lap. The soft hum of the car's engine was the only thing keeping me grounded, but I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at the pit of my stomach.

What had I just done?

I had sold myself. Not my body-no, I wasn't that naïve-but my name, my future, my peace of mind. For what? Five million dollars.

For a year of living with a man I didn't know, who was practically a stranger. A man who looked at me like I was nothing more than a transaction.

When we pulled up in front of Devereux Tower, I swallowed hard. The building touched the sky. All glass, steel, and elegance.

I'd passed by it before on my way to cheap cafés to run small errands-always looking up, always wondering what kind of people lived in places like this.

Now I was one of them.

I tried to steady my breathing as Julien parked the car and got out. The door opened for me, but I hesitated before stepping out, my feet feeling heavy. Was I really ready for this?

The penthouse was at the very top. Thirty-two floors up. As we ascended in the elevator, I glanced at the mirrored walls, trying to steady my shaking hands. It was ridiculous.

A part of me had expected a 'normal' apartment-maybe a little fancy, but still something I could handle. This was far beyond anything I could have imagined.

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped into a space that looked like it belonged in a movie. Marble floors, tall windows, chandeliers, and furniture that probably cost more than my father's entire life's earnings.

The lights reflected off everything-the gold-trimmed edges, the polished black wood of the shelves, the velvet curtains that seemed too beautiful to touch.

For a long second, I just stood there, feeling like I had walked into someone else's dream.

I didn't belong here.

Not with my cheap shoes, my thrifted bag, my chipped nail polish. The walls seemed to whisper that I was just a poor girl playing dress-up. That's all I was-an imposter.

But then, I heard his voice.

Lucien appeared in the hallway, stepping out from what I assumed was his office. He looked just as perfect as the penthouse around us.

Still in his suit, looking impossibly handsome in a way that made me feel even smaller. His dark eyes fixed on me, hard and unreadable, his lips twisted into a small, mocking smile.

He didn't smile like a normal person. It wasn't an expression of kindness or warmth. It was a cold, dismissive curve of the lips.

"Your room is down the hall. Second door on the left," he said, his voice like gravel-rough, uninviting.

I blinked, confused. "I thought I'd be staying in your room. We're supposed to be married."

His eyes flicked up, a flash of irritation sparking across his face. The faintest flicker of surprise crossed his features, but it was gone before I could be sure. He took a slow step forward, his gaze sweeping over me again, like he was assessing my worth.

"This is a business arrangement," he said, voice low and sharp. "I don't want you near me more than you have to be. Stay out of my space."

I stared at him, taking a step back, trying to keep my composure. His words stung. They felt personal, even though I knew they weren't meant to be. I clenched my fists at my sides, unwilling to let him see how much his words affected me.

"So, you want me to pretend in public, but avoid you at home?" My voice came out firmer than I expected, but my heart was racing in my chest.

Lucien's lips twitched again-just a little, like he was toying with me. "That's exactly what I want."

I could feel my temper rising. This wasn't how I imagined this whole thing going. I was already trapped in this marriage, already locked into his world. And yet, here he was, treating me like an inconvenience. Like a stain on his perfect life.

"Do you think I want to be here?" I snapped, stepping closer, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "Is this some dream life for me? You think I've been dreaming of being your wife?"

His gaze hardened, but I wasn't finished.

"I signed that contract for money. That's all. To save my brother. Not for some fairytale where we fall in love and live happily ever after." My voice wavered slightly, but I stood tall.

"Once the year is over, I'll be gone. I don't need your affection, your approval, or your attention. Don't worry about me. I'm not here for you."

Lucien's jaw twitched, his fingers tightening at his sides as if restraining himself. His eyes narrowed, darkening with something-something I couldn't place.

"Good," he said, his voice like ice. "Let's keep it that way."

He turned away, walking toward his room, leaving me standing in the hallway, still trembling from the outburst. The door clicked shut behind him with a finality that made me feel even more alone.

I stood there, the silence pressing in on me. I had told him what I needed to say. I had made it clear that I wasn't here for him, and he wasn't here for me. This marriage was nothing but a business deal-a means to an end. And we were both getting what we wanted.

But even as I stood there, part of me couldn't shake the feeling that something else lingered between us. It was like an invisible thread, taut and unspoken, pulling us closer despite the words we'd exchanged.

I had seen the look in his eyes-the briefest moment when his control slipped, when something inside him reacted to me, to my anger, my defiance. And I knew he'd felt it too.

But I wouldn't let myself think about it. Not now. Not when I had so much at stake.

With a deep breath, I walked to the room he had directed me to, my footsteps echoing in the cold hallway.

The door opened with a soft click, and I stepped inside, greeted by the cold, impersonal decor of a room that screamed money.

A king-sized bed dominated the space, its sheets a rich shade of charcoal. Everything about the room was expensive...Luxurious.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, trying to calm the rush of emotions bubbling inside me. This was my life now. I had to live with it.

For the sake of Jace.

For my brother.