Chapter 3 The Yes That Changed Everything

I didn't sleep that night.

Like, at all.

I just kept staring at the marriage contract Xander gave me. The folder sat on my bed like a loaded gun, waiting to go off.

Ten million dollars.

Five million upfront.

Five million after one year.

I could hear my mom's voice in my head, stressed and tired, asking me if I'd remembered to pay the electricity bill. I thought about our fridge that barely stayed cold and the rent that kept inching higher.

I thought about Savannah's engagement photo, her smug smile, and that ridiculous diamond ring. She looked like she won life.

But what if I did one better?

What if I married the man she lost?

I groaned and flopped face-first into my pillow. "This is insane, Reina," I mumbled. "Absolutely. Freaking. Nuts."

But the money. The freedom. The chance to rewrite everything.

It was tempting. Like soul-selling, heart-wrecking, future-ruining kind of tempting.

By morning, I looked like I'd been dragged through a storm cloud. My eyes were puffy, my head ached, and my stomach twisted as I grabbed my phone and typed out the most life-altering sentence I'd ever send.

> Me: "I'll do it."

Xander didn't reply with a thank-you or even a smiley face (duh). Just a location and a time.

> Xander: "11:00 a.m. My lawyer's office. Come alone."

And just like that, I was engaged to a billionaire.

Kinda.

---

The law firm Xander used looked like it had been built by money itself-polished floors, gold accents, people in suits that probably cost more than my car. I walked in feeling like a fraud. A fraud in heels.

A receptionist led me to a sleek conference room where Xander already sat, dressed in all black like the business grim reaper. His presence sucked the air out of the room.

He didn't stand. Didn't smile. Just glanced at his watch.

"You're five minutes late."

I rolled my eyes. "Nice to see you too."

He slid a document toward me. "Read it. Sign it. We'll get started."

I looked down at the contract. Marriage terms. Public appearances. NDA clauses. Sleeping arrangements-separate rooms, thank God. Divorce date: exactly 365 days from our wedding.

A clean, emotionless deal.

"You're really serious about this?" I asked, looking up at him.

He met my eyes without blinking. "I don't play games, Reina."

God, he was intense.

I flipped through the pages, hands trembling. My name next to his. My signature next to his. This wasn't a joke. This was real.

"You sure you want me?" I said quietly. "I'm not like Savannah."

"Exactly why I want you."

His answer shouldn't have made my heart flutter. But it did. Just a little.

I signed.

He signed.

And suddenly, I was no longer just Reina Moreno. I was a woman with a billion-dollar last name waiting at the altar.

---

"You'll move into my penthouse tonight," he said as we stepped out into the sunlight.

"Wait-tonight?!"

"We're filing the marriage license tomorrow. I need you in place."

"I didn't even pack!" I whined.

"I'll have someone collect your things."

"What am I, a kept woman now?"

He looked at me sideways. "You're my wife."

Even fake, that word felt way too real.

He handed me a sleek black credit card. "Use this for anything you need."

I blinked. "Anything?"

"Clothes. Shoes. Hair. Makeup. You'll need to look the part."

I stared at the card like it was cursed. "Wow. So romantic."

"This isn't romance, Reina," he said coolly. "It's business."

Right. Business.

Except my heart didn't seem to get the memo.

---

His penthouse was a whole planet. White marble floors. Glass walls overlooking the entire city. A private elevator. A walk-in closet bigger than my bedroom. And my favorite part? A bed so fluffy it looked like a cloud made love to a marshmallow.

"This will be your room," he said, gesturing around.

"You mean we're not sharing?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.

He gave me a look. "I don't mix pleasure with paperwork."

My cheeks flamed. "Geez, calm down. It was a joke."

But the way he looked at me-like he could see straight through me-it made my stomach flip for reasons I didn't want to admit.

---

That night, I stood on the balcony in a silk robe he had delivered for me (seriously, the man moved like a military operation). I watched the city lights, my heart pounding, wondering what the hell I'd just done.

This wasn't just a deal.

This was a door. One I had walked through.

And behind me, the old Reina-the girl who got dumped, betrayed, and broken-was already fading.

Tomorrow, I'd be Mrs. Xander Knight.

Fake bride.

Real stakes.

And possibly the biggest mistake of my life.