Chapter 5 ARIAS POV

I stood in front of the mirror, holding my breath as I looked at myself.

There wasn't much to look at, honestly. My best dress was a simple black one that ended just below the knees, and even that had been folded into the back of my closet since last year's failed interview at a downtown restaurant.

I added a denim jacket to hide the loose seam near my shoulder and combed my fingers through my blonde hair until it at least fell evenly.

I didn't look rich. Or powerful. Or anything close to the kind of woman Julian Styles probably entertained.

But I looked... okay. Soft. Presentable.

And I hated how much I wanted him to notice me.

"Whoa," Mikey said, leaning in the doorframe, arms crossed. "You look like you're going on a date." I turned to him. "It's not a date. It's business."

"Sure," he said with a grin. "If 'business' includes perfume and lipstick."

I rolled my eyes and tossed a pillow at him.

"Silly"

"You're leaving me with Lily?" he asked, a little more seriously.

I nodded. "Just for tonight. She'll stay with you until I'm back."

He stared at me. "You okay, Aria?"

I hesitated. "I think so."

He shrugged, trying to act cool, but I saw the worry in his twelve-year-old eyes. "Don't let any billionaire guys steal you away, okay?"

My laugh was short, breathless. "I'll try."

By the time I arrived at the hotel, I already felt like I was in someone else's skin.

The place was pure glass and steel, glittering like a diamond against the skyline. deep down I knew I didn't belong here

The doorman opened the door for me with a nod, and the concierge asked if I was "Miss Reed" before escorting me to the rooftop restaurant.

The elevator ride alone made me feel small.

Too small for this world.

I stepped out and was met with soft music, golden lighting, and the distant hum of city traffic far below. Tables were spaced perfectly, with couples seated like they'd never once struggled to pay rent.

Julian wasn't there yet.

A hostess in heels and red lipstick led me to a table in the corner, draped in white linen and framed by a view of the city. I sat, hands in my lap, trying not to look like I was about to throw up.

I checked my phone.

7:02 p.m.

He was late.

I wasn't sure if that made me relieved or nervous.

And then he arrived.

The air shifted, as if they felt his presence.

I didn't need to turn around to know he was there. The subtle hush in conversation around the room was enough. The energy changed, grew heavier somehow, as if the atmosphere adjusted to accommodate him.

He walked in like he owned the sky.

Tailored black suit. Clean-shaven jaw. Ocean-blue eyes scanning the room until they landed on me.

And then, that smirk.

I stood as he approached, mostly because my knees locked and didn't know what else to do.

"Miss Reed," he said, voice low, smooth.

"You're late," I replied, surprising myself.

He arched a brow. "You noticed."

"I had time to think about walking out."

"But you didn't."

"No."

He pulled out his chair and sat across from me, his eyes never leaving mine. "Good."

A waiter appeared immediately. Julian didn't look at the menu.

"She'll have the salmon with lemon caper sauce. And I'll take the filet, medium rare."

I blinked. "You just... ordered for me?"

"I figured you could use a break from making decisions tonight."

I bristled. "I can order for myself."

He leaned forward. "I know. That's what makes it interesting."

The food arrived quickly. It looked perfect. Smelled like heaven. And yet I barely touched it.

He was watching me the entire time, fingers resting against a wine glass, head slightly tilted like he was cataloging every reaction.

"You're not what I expected," I said finally.

"That's the point," he replied. "Expectations are for people without power."

I sipped water. "And you have power?"

"Enough to make things happen."

"Like marriages?"

His lips twitched. "Exactly."

There was a long pause. The city sparkled behind him like stars caught in concrete.

Then he stretched out his hand and a huge man I never noticed handed him a folder. Black. Matte. Thick.

"This is the contract."

I stared at it like it might explode.

"One year," he continued. "Married on paper. We'll live in my penthouse for appearances. You'll accompany me to events, dinners, and act the part in public. Nothing more is required."

"Required," I echoed.

He nodded. "There's a clause about physical intimacy.",,,

My stomach twisted.

"No one is forcing anything," he said, voice softer. "If it happens, it happens. If it doesn't... that's fine too."

"And the payment?"

"Two billion dollars," he said without blinking. "Transferred in full to your account at the end of the contract. If you break terms early, the deal is off."

I exhaled slowly. "That's a lot of money."

He didn't move. "It's compensation. For your time, your reputation, your silence."

I looked down at the contract. Thick pages. Legal language. Signatures already in place-his, neat and confident.

"There's one room in my penthouse for you," he added. "Unless you decide not to use it."

My pulse jumped.

"I..." I shook my head. "I need time."

"You have until tomorrow."

"That's not..."

"I don't like dragging things out."

I stared at him. "Why me?"

His gaze darkened. "Because you weren't afraid to spill tea on my thousand-dollar shirt. And you didn't ask me for anything."

"I don't want your money."

"Everyone wants something," he said. "Even if it's just a way out."

I couldn't argue.

Not when he was right.

Back at home, I tucked Mikey into bed, kissed his forehead, and sat in the kitchen with the contract.

The numbers blurred. The words blurred. But the weight of it pressed into my hands like fire.

Julian Styles.

Cold. Commanding. Insanely attractive.

There was something broken under his expensive armor. Something hidden behind his eyes.

He looked at me like I was already his. And I didn't hate it.

I told myself I was just reading it.But my hands were already trembling.

Because deep down...

I already knew I'd say yes.