Chapter 2 The Billionaire's Proposal

I wasn't sure what scared me more-Xander Knight's sudden phone call or the fact that I was actually showing up.

The Sterling Hotel was the kind of place you didn't just walk into. You had to belong there. I didn't. Not with my thrift-store clutch and secondhand heels. But still, I stepped through the glass doors like I had a reason to be there.

Fake it till you make it, right?

The elevator ride to the penthouse felt like an eternity. My stomach twisted with nerves, my palms were sweating, and I kept checking my reflection in the mirror-lined walls. Did I look okay? Was my mascara smudged? Should I have worn a different dress?

Too late now.

The elevator dinged.

I stepped out into a private hallway lined with black marble and gold accents. At the end, a tall man in a charcoal-gray suit stood by an open door. His expression was unreadable.

"You're Miss Moreno?" he asked, his voice clipped.

"Um, yeah. Reina."

He nodded once and stepped aside. "Mr. Knight is waiting."

My heart practically did a backflip as I walked in.

The penthouse was unreal. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Crystal chandeliers. Everything dripped luxury like it was born to impress.

And then I saw him.

Xander Knight.

He stood by the window, back turned to me, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a whiskey glass. He was tall-taller than Caleb. Broader, too. His posture screamed power, but not the kind you flaunt. The kind you own.

He turned slowly, his icy blue eyes landing on me like lasers.

"You came," he said simply.

I swallowed. "You called."

His lips twitched like he was mildly amused. "Have a seat."

I walked over to the velvet couch, doing my best not to trip in my heels. I sat, unsure where to put my hands, my legs, my face. This man was gorgeous. In that intimidating, untouchable, 'he'll ruin your life and you'll thank him' kind of way.

He sat across from me, crossed one leg over the other, and set his glass down on the table.

"I'll get straight to the point," he said. "I want you to marry me."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I said-"

"I heard what you said," I cut in, eyes wide. "I just think I'm hallucinating. Did you say marry you?"

"Yes."

I stared at him. Was this a prank? Was Ashton Kutcher about to jump out and yell Punk'd?

"Look," I said slowly, "you're engaged to my cousin. Which, by the way, is weird as hell. So why are you asking me to marry you?"

He didn't flinch. "Because Savannah is no longer part of the plan."

"...What plan?"

He leaned forward, steepling his fingers like a villain in a drama. "Let's just say I had my reasons for getting engaged to her. But she's proven... unreliable."

"Unreliable?" I scoffed. "She's a professional gold digger. What did you expect? Loyalty?"

His lips twitched again. "Exactly why I'm choosing you."

"Okay, back up. This sounds like a bad Netflix plot," I said, hands in the air. "You dump Savannah and come to me-her cousin-out of nowhere? Why me?"

He tilted his head. "Because you're not a gold digger."

"You don't know me."

"I've done my research."

Well, that wasn't creepy at all.

"I know your family's in debt. Your father passed away two years ago. Your mother works two jobs to keep the house. You're in student loan hell, and you work part-time at a bookstore while studying interior design."

I stared at him, speechless.

"I also know you've been with Caleb Carter for two years, and that he recently broke up with you."

I bit my lip. My cheeks were burning now. "Did you hire a private investigator or just stalk my Instagram?"

"I don't do social media."

Of course he didn't.

He stood up, walked over to a sleek black briefcase on the counter, and returned with a folder. He placed it on the table in front of me.

I looked down.

Marriage Agreement.

"What is this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"A contract. A marriage of convenience. You marry me. We stay married for one year. You get ten million dollars. Five upfront. Five after the year ends."

I almost choked on my own breath. "Ten... million?!"

"Tax-free," he added, like he was offering me free fries with my burger.

I stared at the folder like it might bite me.

Was this real?

A billionaire was offering me ten million dollars to marry him.

Me. Reina Moreno. The girl who just got dumped by a man who still lived with his mom on weekends.

I shook my head, standing up. "This is insane. I can't marry someone I don't even know."

Xander remained calm. "You'd be doing more than just solving your family's financial problems. You'd also be helping me avoid an international scandal."

I blinked. "Scandal?"

"My board expects a marriage by the end of the fiscal quarter," he said, as if that explained anything. "It's complicated. I don't need feelings. I need results. And you're perfect for the role."

"Why not just hire an actress?"

"I need someone discreet. Not fame-hungry. Someone who won't sell their story to the tabloids."

"And you think that's me?"

"You're desperate. But you're not stupid."

I hated how accurate that was.

Ten million dollars.

That would wipe my mom's debts clean. Pay off my loans. Change our lives.

But still... marriage?

"Do I have to... you know, be your wife?" I asked carefully.

He raised an eyebrow. "Define 'be.'"

"You know what I mean."

He smirked. "You'll attend events with me. Smile for the cameras. Sleep in the same penthouse. Share the same name. But what happens behind closed doors... is up to us."

My heart did a weird little flip.

"I need an answer by tomorrow," he added, standing up. "I don't beg."

I grabbed the folder with shaky hands and walked toward the door, feeling like I was floating.

This couldn't be real.

But it was.

I was just offered ten million dollars to marry my cousin's ex-fiancé.

And for the first time in weeks... I didn't feel like crying.