Bought by Mistake: A Deal Signed In Desperation

Aria's POV

When the bell above the door jingled for what felt like the one hundredth time that day, I wiped my hands on my apron and forced a smile as the next customer walked in.

My feet ached and my back hurt. Even my head also throbbed, but there was no time to complain as my rent was due in five days, Josh needed new medication, and the electric company had already sent a warning notice. I couldn't afford to slow down.

"Coffee?" I asked the man as he sat at the corner booth, not even looking up from his phone.

He nodded but was still focused on whatever he was reading. I poured the coffee and left the pot on the warmer, rubbing my temple as I glanced around the diner. It was past 10 p.m., and only a few late-night regulars lingered, whispering over pancakes and fries.

I leaned against the counter for a second so that I could breathe.

"Aria!" Clara's voice rang out from the kitchen. "Order up! Table four!"

I bit back a sigh and grabbed the plates as I delivered them with a smile I didn't quite feel. The couple barely noticed me as they continued arguing over something on a phone screen.

I turned away and told myself it's just two more hours to go. Two more hours, and then I could go home. Well, that's if you could call a tiny one-bedroom apartment with flickering lights and peeling wallpaper "a home."

I slid back behind the counter, grabbed the rag, and started wiping down the same spot I'd already cleaned three times.

"You work hard". That came from a smooth, deep, and unfamiliar voice. I looked up and found the man from the corner booth watching me. His coffee sat untouched.

"Thanks," I said cautiously.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You always work this late?" he asked.

"It's a double shift, just to cover more bills."

"But you're young and pretty. You could be doing something better than wiping tables." He tilted his head.

"You got a job offer for me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe I do."

I laughed humourlessly. "Unless it comes with health insurance, I'm not interested."

That caught his attention. "You've got some medical bills, right?"

I stiffened, wondering how he knew about that before answering. "None of your business."

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Let's just say I represent a company that scouts talent. Modeling, specifically. We're always looking for new faces. And you have a good look."

My stomach clenched. "I'm not interested in being someone's fantasy on a billboard."

"It's not like that." He slid a business card across the table. "It's classy with private clients. You would be paid well, and it would be upfront enough to cover... everything."

I stared at the card. It's white with gold lettering. There was a name I didn't recognize on it, no website, just a phone number and an address in the city.

"This sounds sketchy."

He laughed lightly. "That's fair. But so is your situation, tell me if I'm wrong."

I couldn't answer because he wasn't wrong.

The state insurance no longer covered Josh's medicine. I had already sold my mom's necklace, pawned my laptop, and skipped meals to pay for his last round of treatment. I was twenty-three, broke, and raising a sick little brother on my own. What other options did I have?

"I don't have time to play games," I said finally.

"It's not a game," he replied as he stood. "Call the number. They'll set up a quick meeting. You say yes, and you'll have five grand in your hand by tomorrow night."

I stared up at him. "Five grand?"

He nodded as he gave me a quick smile and walked out without another word.

The diner felt colder after he left. Or maybe that was just me, standing there with a business card in my hand and desperation in my chest.

"Don't do it", my gut whispered, but my gut wasn't the one getting collection calls at midnight or watching Josh struggle to breathe on bad days.

When my shift ended, I walked home in silence while the streetlights flickered above me. My apartment was dark when I got in, so I tiptoed past the couch where Josh lay curled under a blanket, his chest rising and falling too quickly for my liking.

I kissed his forehead and went into the kitchen, where I stared at the card for a long time before dialing the number.

"Hello," a woman answered, her voice crisp and polite.

"I... I was given your card for a modeling job," I stated.

"Your name, please."

"Aria Lane," I answered.

There was a short pause. "Ah, yes, Mr. Felix said you might call. Can you come in tonight?" she inquired.

I blinked. "It's past midnight already."

"We work late hours, and the opportunity is real, Aria. But it's also time-sensitive."

I hesitated, but then I looked at the cabinet. It was nearly empty. I looked at the bills on the table; they were overdue. Finally, I looked at Josh, and then I decided, "I'll be there."

The building was downtown. It was a fancy and Sleek building with glass and steel, the kind of place rich people smiled for photos at its frontage. I felt out of place in my old jeans and hoodie. But the receptionist waved me through.

An assistant led me to a room with a leather chair and a polished table where a man in a gray suit sat, probably waiting for my arrival, with his fingers steepled under his chin.

"Aria? Sit," the man said as he motioned me over to the seat opposite him, and there, I sat.

"I'm Paul and I handle onboarding," he began with an introduction. We're not going to waste time. You were scouted for a specific client, and the project is highly confidential.

It's high-end but discretion is the key word. Nonetheless, you'll be well compensated."

I swallowed hard before asking, "How much?"

He slid a paper across the table. "Five thousand upfront with another ten at completion, and if it's extended, there would be more," he highlighted

I stared at the numbers, and it made my mind spin.

"What exactly am I expected to do in the job?"

"You'll be playing a role. The client has very particular tastes. You'll be trained, dressed, and instructed. You can think of it as a method acting approach. There would be no photos, no cameras, and nothing public."

The job sounded ridiculous, but the check was real. I could feel it, heavy in my hands, when he placed it there.

"There's a contract you'll need to sign. It's a Standard NDA. You agree to follow instructions and not speak about the assignment afterward."

I looked at the pages; they were long and written in small print. My head hurt, and my hands shook all at once.

"Can I take this home to read?" I inquired

"No. It's a one-time offer. If you walk out now, then it's gone."

I stared at him, the paper, and the check at the same time.

Josh needed that money. I needed the money, too. Then, as the reality of what that money would do for Josh and me dawned on me, I picked up the pen.

And I signed.

"Good," Paul said, as he stood. "You'll be picked up in one hour. Pack a small bag of only neutral clothes. No electronics and no phone."

I blinked. "Wait! what"

"You'll be transported to a private residence. The client prefers to work in controlled environments."

My heart raced. "You didn't say anything about that."

"It's all in the contract, Ms. Lane," he answered.

Then I swallowed hard. I signed without reading it. I wonder what more was stated in the contract.

"Do I have a choice?"

He looked at me. "You already made it."

Back home, I packed quickly. A sweater, my Jeans, and a toothbrush all in one bag. Then I kissed Josh goodbye, told the neighbor to check in on him, and tried not to cry.

At exactly 2:00 a.m., a black car pulled up.

The driver didn't speak when I opened the door, and I just sat in the back, clutching my bag with my heart pounding.

The city lights disappeared quickly as we drove through a tunnel. Then up a long and twisted road.

I leaned forward a little, "Are we going out of town?" I asked, but still, there was no answer.

Trees blurred past the window, but then lights appeared through the darkness. At last, a huge mansion that was lit up like a palace emerged into our view, and the car stopped after it had entered through an automatically opened gate.

A man in a tuxedo opened the door.

"Welcome, Ms. Lane. This way, please," the man said.

My legs shook as I followed him up the stone steps.

Inside, everything smelled like roses and money, with marble floors and velvet curtains.

He led me down a long hall, then stopped at a door.

"Wait here. Someone will come for you shortly," he announced

The door closed behind me with a click.

I was alone in a stranger's house with no idea what I'd signed up for. A few minutes passed before I heard footsteps and the door opened.

Aria's POV

"Ms. Lane, this way please", one of the men who came in gestured while he led me into another room. "You'll rest in here for a few hours before we set out in the morning, have a good rest", he stated and left before I could ask any questions.

I fell asleep immediately upon landing on the bed, as I was already tired. An almost silent knock woke me in the morning, and when I opened the door, several ladies came in. "What's going on here?" I asked.

"No time for questions. Hair and makeup first. The wardrobe. You'll be briefed after the ceremony," the man from the previous night instructed, coming from behind the ladies.

"Where am I?" I asked, trying to catch up with the man on what he just said, "ceremony", the word hit me, and then I froze. "What ceremony?" I asked

The man sighed and glanced at his clipboard. "I guess you signed the contract without reading it, Miss Lane. Everything will make sense soon."

No, no, no.

I wanted to ask more, but two ladies came forward and urged me to take my bath quickly, because we were running out of time. After I had bathed, one of the ladies began to work on my hair, while the other took the time to apply make-up diligently on my face. I stared at myself in the mirror, although it was my face, it looked like it wasn't mine. It was softer and more glamorous, and surprisingly bridal.

"Is this a wedding?" I asked with a trembling voice.

They didn't answer. They just smiled and kept working.

"I didn't agree to this."

"Just do what you're told, sweetheart- Smile pretty, say yes, and you'll be fine." One of them poured, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

"Say yes?" I asked, confused.

Before I could argue, another lady came in carrying a garment bag. She unzipped it with care and held up a dress made of ivory silk and pearls. My heart dropped.

"No," I whispered. "No, no. This has to be a mistake."

But they were already slipping the dress over my head and zipping it up tight. It fit perfectly and almost like it had been made just for me. My hair was pulled into an elegant twist; diamonds were clipped to my ears.

Everything felt like a nightmare wrapped in velvet.

The car rolled to a stop in front of a towering building that shimmered like something out of a dream. Tall glass windows with gold trimming, and a red carpet that ran from the valet line through the grand entrance.

A man in a black suit approached me with a headset and a clipboard. "Miss Lane?"

"Um... yes."

"Follow me. We're behind schedule."

Before I could say a word, I was taken inside and hurried through a maze of hallways. My heels clicked against the tiles as I passed catering staff, florists, and a crowd that looked like a paparazzi. Wait, paparazzi?

Then a door opened as we approached it.

"It's time," said the man with the clipboard.

"This must be a mistake. I shouldn't be wearing a wedding gown because I didn't sign a wedding agreement." I calmly informed the man with the clipboard.

"You already are." He replied as if he wasn't moved by my words.

Two men in suits took my arms and guided me down another hallway. I could hear music now, a soft piano and the hum of voices. I tried to dig in my heels, but the dress was too tight, and my limbs were shaky, too.

The doors at the end of the hallway opened wide.

And there I was, standing at the beginning of an aisle lined with roses and gold chairs. Cameras clicked and lights flashed, then dozens of strangers turned to look at me.

At the end of the aisle stood a man in a dark suit. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His hair was raven-black and neatly combed; his jaw looked sharp enough to cut glass. He stood perfectly still, and his expression gave nothing.

Our eyes locked, and I immediately recognized him; he was Julian Cross: the Billionaire CEO who was both ruthless and private, a man who made headlines just by breathing.

And I was walking toward him in a wedding dress.

No! This couldn't be happening.

"I can't do this," I whispered to the man beside me. "This is wrong."

He didn't reply but nudged me forward gently. Smiling at the spectators in a way that says all is well.

Each step I took felt like a countdown to disaster.

I reached the front with my heart pounding. Julian didn't look at me; he just offered his arm like this was nothing more than a business meeting.

"I'm not marrying you," I hissed under my breath. Then he finally looked at me and smiled. A cold smile that sent shivers down my spine.

"Smile," he whispered, with a rich and low voice.

"What?" I blinked at him, stunned.

He leaned in with his lips barely moving. "There are cameras everywhere. If you walk try humiliating me right now, it means you bridged the contract. Then you'll be sued and ruined."

My mouth went dry. The world spun so that I almost lost my hold. Julian held me lovingly, preventing me from falling as if we were a real couple. I'm doomed! Finished! Crushed! It was true I didn't read the contract before signing it. Now I just signed away my dignity, pride and all.

"Your men tricked me," I said, yet his smile didn't change.

"You signed the contract voluntarily."

The officiant began to speak, but the words blurred into background noise.

"I didn't know I was agreeing to marry a stranger on camera!" I hissed.

"You didn't read the fine print." His voice was calm but bored. "Rule number one in business, Aria. Never sign something you don't understand." We kept whispering to each other while the officiant was still speaking.

My hands trembled when I gazed around the hall and saw how much the place was filled with guests. Were they actors or real people, or perhaps they're his friends?

"I don't love you," I whispered.

He tilted his head as he said, "I don't either."

"Tell me this is all a lie. Will you?"

The officiant cleared his throat.

"Julian Alexander Cross, do you take this woman, Aria Lane, to be your lawfully wedded wife. To love and to cherish, in sickness and in health till death do you part?"

He didn't hesitate.

"I do."

"And do you, Aria Lane, take Julian Alexander Cross...."

"I...." My voice cracked as I stammered. "I..."

Julian's hand closed over mine firmly.

"If you say no," he said under his breath, "you'll leave with nothing. And we both know who that hurts."

Josh.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want this. I didn't even know this man.

"Yes. I do," I recalled saying earlier to a total stranger. I wanted to say no and leave right then and there, but my hands were tied. These people are not only wealthy. They are influential. If I had tried anything funny like Julian said earlier, my world would have stopped by now.

I couldn't sleep, even in the plush guest suite of Julian Cross's mansion with its silk sheets and floor-to-ceiling windows, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling and feeling the weight of a thousand regrets on my chest.

Even though everywhere was silent, I could still hear the echoes of his words from earlier and the thousands of paparazzi talking at the same time, just to get words out of the newly wedded fake couple we posed.

"Smile, Aria. It's done."

No matter how I turned the words over in my head, they didn't make sense. None of this did. I had signed a contract thinking I was doing some kind of luxury modelling gig, but I had never imagined it would turn into marrying a billionaire with a steel heart and a lawyer in his pocket.

I was trapped.

A knock at the door startled me.

"Yes?" I answered, sitting up on the bed.

The door opened and Julian came in. He was dressed in a black T-shirt and slacks, barefoot, but still managing to look like he owned the world.

He glanced around the room, then met my eyes.

"Get dressed. We're going over the rules." Julian's unkind voice sounded.

"It's two in the morning. Have you checked your time?"

"I don't care. You live in my house now and you'll follow my rules."

I climbed out of bed slowly with my heart thumping. "You can't just barge in here and order me around," I murmured.

"We're legally married, and you had signed away your privacy," he reminded.

"That contract was misleading at best."

"The least you could have done was to read it," he snapped. "before you took the money."

"I did it for my brother"

"And I did it for control of my company, and more so, I wasn't expecting to sign a deal with your broke ass. But since fate has brought you, then you abide by the rules." His voice cut like glass."

"Were you brought up this way? To speak to your wife like this is a business transaction?" I asked.

"Only the fake ones." He smirked.

"Come downstairs," he added. "Now."

We ended up in one of his many living rooms this one was decorated in whites and pale blues with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a roaring fireplace. He handed me a document as thick as a small novel and gestured for me to sit.

"These are the expectations," he said.

I skimmed the first page. "Weekly appearances, Public handholding and A curated Instagram account"

Julian didn't blink. "We need to sell this marriage to the public because the board needs to believe it's real."

"Do you think I can do this? What if I messed it up?"

"You wouldn't want to."

"This is insane." I looked up at him.

"No," he said quietly. "It's necessary."

"For whom"

He leaned against the fireplace with his arms folded, and this made him look more like a statue than a man.

"For both of us," he replied. "The media is already watching and my company is under pressure. If you play your part well, you'll walk away with more money than you had ever dreamed of. But if you make me look like a fool..." he paused

I swallowed hard after reading the rules further. "I don't get to leave the house whenever I want?"

"Only with permission," he answered

"Do I get to own a phone at least ?" I inquired

"You'll get a monitored phone, you'll attend events and smile for the cameras. You have to pretend you're the luckiest woman alive. That's the role you signed up for."

I shot to my feet. "I didn't sign up to be your prisoner." I snapped

"You're not a prisoner. You're an actress and this is a performance."

"For how long will it be" I questioned.

"It's just for a year, after that we'll file for a divorce quietly, and you'll get your money while I get my company."

I crossed my arms as my body began to shake. "You could've picked anyone else, Why me?" I asked.

He stared at me for a long moment. "You looked innocent enough and not too polished with just the right amount of desperation."

I felt my stomach twist. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know you lied."

My breath caught. "What! Excuse me?"

"Your résumé was fake and the name you gave to the agency wasn't even your real name. Your social media was wiped clean before the contract. You were hiding something."

I shook my head as I tried to defend myself and said in a low voice. "I was protecting my brother."

"I don't care," he said flatly. "All I know is that I paid for honesty yet I didn't get it."

"You paid for control." I snapped as I stepped closer.

Now, his expression hardened. "And now I have it."

I turned away as I choked back the heat in my throat. I couldn't cry in front of him. He would only see it as weakness.

"You may leave to attend to your issues," he said behind me. "But you will not leave it without permission. You will not speak to the press unless I approve the statement. And you will not lie again."

I turned around. "What happens if I break one of your rules"

His eyes narrowed as he answered nonchalantly. "Try it and see what happens."

We stared at each other like two strangers tied by gold rings.

"Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Cross," he whispered before leaving me there.

I spent the rest of the night staring out the window of the guest suite. The mansion was on a cliffside with the Pacific Ocean stretching into darkness beyond the balcony. The stars sparkled which was too beautiful for what I was living through.

I didn't know what was worse: the fact that I'd married a cold-hearted billionaire... or the fact that he now owned my life like it was part of his portfolio.

Eventually, I fell into a restless sleep.

Morning sunlight hit my face like a spotlight.

I rolled over, feeling groggy, as I grabbed the remote on the nightstand. The giant TV on the opposite wall flickered to life as it had

already been tuned to a morning news station.

"...and in shocking news, Julian Cross, CEO of Cross Enterprises, tied the knot in a secret ceremony last night. Sources say the bride is a mystery woman with no confirmed background..."

I sat up with my heart racing and then the screen changed to me.

A slow-motion clip of me walking down the aisle and a still of Julian placing the ring on my finger with "A tabloid headline:

"Julian's Cinderella: Who Is Aria Lane?"

My face is now shown on every screen.

I scrambled out of bed and ran to the bathroom and I turned on the faucet just to drown out the noise. My reflection in the mirror looked like someone else. It looked like someone trapped in silk.

The door burst open behind me and I turned.