A DEAL WITH THE DEVILISH BILLIONAIRE

Ava Hart stared at her computer screen, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she worked through the endless stream of numbers and calculations. The small accounting firm where she worked was quiet that evening; the hum of the fluorescent lights was the only sound aside from her typing.

At twenty-six, Ava was brilliant with numbers, and it was a skill she had honed from an early age. Numbers were predictable and logical, and unlike life, they always made sense if you worked through the equation. But despite her talent, Ava's life was anything but balanced.

She lived modestly in a two-bedroom apartment with her parents, who had fallen on hard times after her father's small construction business went bankrupt. Her mother, once a lively florist, had stopped working to care for her husband after his health began to fail. Ava had stepped into the role of breadwinner without hesitation.

She didn't resent the responsibility; she loved her family fiercely. Her father, Henry Hart, had always been her hero. He is kind, honest, and hardworking. Watching him struggle with guilt over their financial troubles broke her heart.

But Ava believed things would get better. They had to.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, glancing at the screen. It was a message from Layla, her wealthy and glamorous best friend she met at university.

"Hey, Ava! Emergency. Need you to cover for me tonight. Blind date. Usual spot."

Ava groaned. Layla's "emergencies" were usually trivial, but Ava couldn't say no. Layla had helped her family financially more times than Ava could count. This was just one of the few ways she could repay her kindness.

"Do I have to?" she responded, resuming her work almost immediately.

"Please! Just go. Act rude. He's a jerk, apparently, so he won't even mind either. Thanks, babe!"

Ava rolled her eyes but grabbed her bag reluctantly. If it was just a matter of acting rudely to scare off some self-absorbed rich guy, she could handle it, and she actually needed someone to rain her frustration on.

****

The restaurant was as extravagant as Ava expected. It had soft lighting, glittering chandeliers, and a pianist playing in the corner. It was the kind of place she couldn't afford even on a good month.

Her date was easy to spot. He sat at a corner table, exuding an air of quiet authority. His dark, tailored suit fit perfectly, and he watched the room with a detached confidence that made her stomach turn.

Ava reminded herself why she was there. It was to act rude, send the guy packing, and call it a night without any delay.

"Mr. Cross?" she asked, feigning indifference as she approached.

He stood, extending a hand. "Ms. Layla?"

His voice was deep, smooth, and annoyingly magnetic. She ignored his outstretched hand and sat without waiting for him to pull out her chair.

"You're late," she said flatly.

His brow lifted slightly, but he didn't reply. Instead, he studied her for a moment, his dark eyes sharp and assessing.

"Shall we order?" he said finally, signaling to the waiter.

Ava bit back a sigh and decided to escalate. "Actually, let's not waste time. I'm not interested in whatever game you're playing. I don't need anyone to force me into a loveless marriage."

Damien Cross leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Game?"

"Blind dates, contracts, whatever this is," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm not here for your convenience or your money."

To her surprise, he chuckled; it was a low and amusing sound. "Direct. I like that."

She bristled. This wasn't going according to her plan.

"Let me guess," he said, leaning forward slightly. "You think I'm some arrogant billionaire who uses his money to get whatever he wants."

"You'd be correct." Her response was sharp

"And yet, here you are."

Her cheeks flushed, but she held her ground. "Not for you. For my friend."

I was tired of dragging it out. I had to let him know that both I and Layla had no intention of satisfying his need.

"I know you weren't the one. It's good that you cleared yourself at least," he smiled as he raised his cup of tea

His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Then this should be easy for both of us. I'm not interested in love, and I doubt you are either. I need a temporary arrangement of a wife, in name only. Nothing more. What do you say?"

Ava blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I'm offering you a marriage contract. Six months, strictly business. No feelings, no strings attached. In return, I'll pay you whatever amount you want."

Her stomach twisted. He couldn't know about her family's struggles. Could he?

She stood abruptly, her chair scraping the floor. "You have the wrong person, Mr. Cross. Find someone else for your games."

"Judging from your look and dress, you are not from a rich family. You probably need money badly." his voice was laced with mockery.

"Darn you!" She leaned closer to him and grabbed the cup of water on the table. "You and your money stink!" The contents of the glass filled Damien's face at the sound of the last word.

Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked out of the restaurant, her heart pounding.

Her hand had acted faster than her brain.

****

The apartment was dark when Ava arrived home. She kicked off her shoes and headed to the kitchen, expecting to find her parents watching TV or talking quietly at the table like their daily routine.

Instead, she froze at the sight before her.

Her parents were tied to chairs in the living room; their faces paled with fear. Three men in dark suits loomed over them, one of them holding a bat.

"About time," one of the men said, turning to face her.

Ava's heart raced as she stepped forward, her hands trembling. "What are you doing? Let them go!"

"You're late on payments," the man said casually, inspecting the bat in his hands. "Mr. Hayes doesn't like delays."

"I-I'm working on it! I know the deadline has passed, but I will surely pay for this month," Ava stammered, her mind racing for a solution. "Please, just give me more time."

The man sneered. "Time doesn't pay the bills, sweetheart. Your daddy owes a lot of money, and we're done waiting."

"Maybe we should sell off some of his good organs. That will pay the debt," one of the jokes.

Others chuckled at his joke that was not funny as the one talking to me walked closer to my parents.

We need to teach them some lessons so that she can be activated." He raised the bat, and Ava's world seemed to tilt.

"Stop!" she cried, stepping between him and her parents. "I'll get the money. Just... don't hurt them."

The man lowered the bat slightly, considering her. "You've got one week. If we don't get the full amount, things are going to get messy."

Ava nodded frantically, tears streaming down her face.

The men left her parents untied and left without another word, their heavy footsteps echoing in the hallway.

Ava collapsed to her knees, her hands shaking as she reached for her parents.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'll fix this. I promise." Her hands trembled as she undo the rope

Her father placed a trembling hand on her shoulder. "Ava, you've done enough. This isn't your burden."

But it was. And she would find a way to save them, no matter what it took.

As she sat on the floor, holding her parents close, one thought echoed in her mind.

Damien Cross.

She had walked away from his deal once. But now she wasn't sure she could afford to walk away again. However, she shook off the thought as fast as it came.

Ava sat on the edge of her bed, her laptop open in front of her, the screen filled with spreadsheets and overdue notices. She rubbed her temples, trying to will away the pounding headache that had been her constant companion since the previous night. The image of her parents tied up and terrified haunted her, and the men's threats echoed in her ears.

One week. That was all the time they'd given her to come up with an astronomical amount of money which was far more than she could ever hope to earn on her meager accountant's salary.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. It was her best friend, Layla.

"How's it going? Have you figured out anything yet?"

Ava sighed, typing back a quick response. "No. It's bad, Layla. Really bad. Nothing is coming forth anywhere."

Within seconds, Layla was calling. Ava picked up, grateful for the sound of her friend's voice.

"Ava, talk to me," Layla said, her usual confident tone replaced with concern.

Ava let out a shaky breath. "They showed up at my apartment last night. They tied up my parents, Layla. I've never been so scared in my life."

"What?!" Layla's voice was sharp. "Ava, that's insane. Did you call the police?"

"I can't," Ava said quickly. "You know how these things work. If I go to the police, they'll make things worse. They want their money, and they're not going to wait."

"How much is it?" Layla asked hesitantly.

Ava hesitated, then told her the number.

Layla let out a low whistle. "Ava, that's... that's a lot. I don't even think my parents could cover something like that without squeezing their foreheads in sweat"

"I know," Ava said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've tried everything. I've been calling in favors, asking everyone I know for help, but it's no use. I'm out of options and the interests keep piling up."

There was a pause at the other end of the line. "What about... what about him?"

"Who?" she responded mindlessly, clueless of what she was talking about, until her brain suddenly clicked.

Ava's stomach twisted. "Damien Cross?"

"Yes," Layla said carefully. "I mean, you said he offered to pay you any amount in exchange for the contract marriage. It's insane, but it's not like you're committed to him forever, right?"

Ava stood and began pacing the room. "Layla, I can't just, he's manipulative, cold, and-"

"And he's your only option," Layla interrupted gently. "I know you hate the idea, Ava, but your parents are in danger. You'd be protecting them by partnering with him."

The words hit Ava like a punch to the gut. Layla was right, as much as she hated to admit it. Damien was her only way out. But the thought of tying herself to him, even temporarily, made her feel trapped.

"Think about it," Layla said softly. "I'll support you no matter what, but you don't have much time."

"I'll think about it," Ava murmured, though she already knew what she had to do.

***

Ava spent the next few hours making calls, visiting banks, and trying every avenue she could think of. She even went to the office of a wealthy former client, begging for a loan, but she was turned away at every turn. The debt was simply too large for anyone to jump in.

By the time she returned home, her body ached from exhaustion, and her heart felt heavier than ever. Her father was sitting in his armchair, staring blankly at the television, while her mother quietly folded laundry at the dining table.

"How was your day, sweetheart?" her mother asked, forcing a smile.

"It was... fine," Ava lied, unable to meet her mother's eyes.

"Don't lie to me, Ava," her father said quietly. "I know you're trying to fix this, but it's not your responsibility."

"Yes, it is," Ava said firmly, her voice breaking. "I can't just stand by and do nothing. I won't."

Her father opened his mouth to argue, but Ava shook her head. "I have to go out for a bit," she said, grabbing her coat.

"Where are you going?" her mother asked, worry etched on her face.

"I'm just... taking care of something," Ava replied, forcing herself to sound calm. "I'll be back soon."

***

Damien Cross's office was in the heart of the city, a sleek, modern building that screamed wealth and power. Ava had been here once before, for an unrelated work meeting, but she had never expected to return under these circumstances.

She took the elevator to the top floor, her nerves mounting with each passing second. When the doors opened, she was greeted by a stylish receptionist who eyed her curiously.

"Do you have an appointment?" the woman asked.

"No, but I need to speak with Mr. Cross," Ava said, her voice steadier than she felt.

The receptionist raised an eyebrow but made a quick call. After a brief exchange, she nodded. "Mr. Cross will see you now."

Ava walked down the hall, her heart pounding in her chest. When she reached the double doors to Damien's office, she hesitated for a moment before pushing them open.

Damien was seated at his massive desk, his dark eyes fixed on her as she entered. He looked as polished as ever, his tailored suit impeccable, his expression unreadable.

"Miss Hart," he said smoothly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Ava clenched her fists at her sides, refusing to let him intimidate her. "I've thought about your offer," she said, her voice firm. "And I'm willing to agree to it."

Damien's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "I see. And what changed your mind?"

"It doesn't matter," Ava said sharply. "I'll do it. But I have conditions."

Damien leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "By all means, let's hear them."

Ava took a deep breath. "This stays strictly professional. No emotional games, no manipulation. You clear my father's debt, and I fulfill whatever... role you need me to play. After the contract ends, we part ways."

Damien regarded her for a long moment, his eyes flickering with something she couldn't read. "Agreed," he said finally. "But you'll find, Miss Hart, that my world doesn't operate on simple rules. Be prepared for complications."

"I can handle it," Ava said, though she wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him or herself.

Damien stood, extending his hand. "Then we have a deal."

Ava hesitated before shaking his hand, her stomach churning. As his fingers closed around hers, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had just made a deal with the devil.

Damien Cross's office was a fortress of glass and steel, a reflection of the man who ruled it. His reputation was legendary: a self-made billionaire who had built an empire from nothing. But beneath the polished exterior lay a man far darker than anyone could imagine. He's a man who thrived on control, calculated ruthlessness, and the relentless pursuit of power.

The marriage contract was just another tool in Damien's arsenal. His board of directors had been growing restless, their trust shaken by recent scandals and the looming acquisition of TitanTech, a technology firm critical to expanding his empire. They wanted stability, a more humanized image of their aloof and cutthroat CEO. A wife, even a fake one, was the solution.

Damien sat at his desk, the soft glow of his computer screencasting shadows on his face. Before him was Ava Hart's profile, or rather, the one he had fabricated. The transformation was already in motion. She was no longer the struggling accountant from a lower-class neighborhood; she was now the wealthy daughter of a fictional oil tycoon from Europe. Her background was meticulously crafted from private schools and elite connections to a carefully curated image that would make her a perfect match for Damien Cross.

Connor Hale, his COO (chief operating officer) and one of the few people Damien trusted, entered the room without knocking. He carried a file thick with documents.

"She has signed it already," Connor said, placing the file on Damien's desk. "The makeover team is on standby. Everything is proceeding as planned."

Damien nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. Make sure the transition is seamless. She's leaving her old life behind completely. Give her the brand-new look."

Connor hesitated, his brow furrowing. "Damien, are you sure about this? She has no idea what she's walking into."

"She doesn't need to know," Damien replied coldly. "She signed the contract. She belongs to this arrangement now."

Connor didn't look convinced. "This feels... extreme. Forcing her to cut ties with her family, erasing her past, and becoming a new person, it's not just controlling, Damien. It's cruel."

Damien's gaze snapped at Connor, his voice cold. "Cruelty is irrelevant. Results are all that matter. Ava Hart is a means to an end, nothing more."

Connor didn't argue further. He had worked for Damien long enough to know that the man was immovable once his mind was set.

***

| Ava |

Ava sat stiffly in the backseat of a sleek black car, the weight of her decision sinking in. The night before, Damien had handed her a binder filled with details about her new "life." It wasn't just a marriage contract; it was an entire persona she was expected to embody.

"You'll need to relocate immediately," Damien had said, his tone devoid of empathy. "Your family will be informed that you're taking a high-level job overseas. From this moment on, your old life is irrelevant."

Ava had protested, of course. "I can't just abandon my family! My father needs me.."

"Your father needs you to pay off his debt," Damien had interrupted with a sharp voice. "And this is how you do it. Or would you prefer to explain to him why you backed out?"

Her silence was enough to answer his question.

Now, as the car wound its way toward an exclusive estate on the outskirts of the city, Ava clutched the binder in her lap, her mind racing. The profile Damien had created for her was exhaustive, down to the tiniest detail. She was no longer Ava Hart, accountant and devoted daughter. She was now Ivanna Loretto, the jet-setting heiress to a European oil fortune.

Her heart ached at the thought of leaving her parents without an explanation, but she had no choice. If she wanted to protect them, she had to play along.

When the car finally pulled up to the estate, Ava's jaw dropped. The sprawling mansion before her looked like something out of a movie; it was filled with marble columns and manicured gardens. A team of stylists, led by a severe-looking woman named Claudia, was already waiting for her.

"You must be Ava," Claudia said, her tone brisk. "We don't have much time, so let's get started."

Ava was ushered inside, where she was immediately bombarded with questions about her wardrobe preferences, skincare routines, and hair care habits. It was overwhelming, and before she knew it, she was swept into a whirlwind of fittings, treatments, and rehearsals.

By the time they were done with her, Ava barely recognized herself. Her hair had been dyed a rich chestnut brown and styled into sleek waves. Her makeup was flawless, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and full lips. The simple blouse and jeans she had arrived in were replaced by a tailored designer dress and sky-high heels.

"You look perfect. So pretty!" Claudia declared, stepping back to admire her work. "Exactly the kind of woman Damien Cross would marry."

Ava stared at her reflection in the mirror, her chest tightening. She looked stunning, but the woman staring back at her felt like a stranger.

"Is this really necessary?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Claudia arched a brow. "If you want to survive in Damien's world, it is."

****

| Damien |

Damien watched Ava from across the room, his sharp gaze taking in every detail. She had transformed beautifully, but her posture was tense, her eyes darting nervously around the opulent living room.

"She cleans up well," he remarked to Connor, who stood beside him.

"She's not a project, Damien," Connor replied quietly. "She's a person."

"Spare me the lecture," Damien said, his tone dismissive. "She agreed to this."

Connor shook his head but said nothing more.

Damien crossed the room, his presence commanding as he approached Ava. She turned to face him, her expression a mix of uncertainty and defiance.

"You look like what I have pictured in my head," he said, his voice low. "Now it's time to act the part."

"And what exactly does that entail?" Ava asked, crossing her arms.

"You'll accompany me to public events, smile for the cameras, and say exactly what I tell you to say," Damien replied coolly. "You're my wife in every way that matters to the world."

Ava's jaw tightened. "And what about what matters to me?"

Damien's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. "You signed the contract, Ava. Your priorities are irrelevant."

She glared at him, but he didn't flinch. "Welcome to my world," he said, turning on his heel and walking away.

As Ava watched him leave, a sinking feeling settled in her stomach. She had known Damien was cold and ruthless ever since their first encounter, but she hadn't realized just how deep his darkness ran.

And now she was bound to him for better or worse.