THE RELUCTANT FIANCEE HOAX

Ethan Montgomery never imagined his proposal would end in disaster.

Yet here he was, standing in the middle of The Grand Oak, one of the most elegant restaurants in the city, staring at the woman he had planned to spend his life with-only to see panic flicker across her face. The small velvet box in his hand felt heavier than it should. The engagement ring inside, something he had spent months picking out, now felt like a mistake.

A hush had fallen over the restaurant. Conversations had died down, forks and knives had paused mid-air, and all eyes were now on Olivia Reynolds.

The woman who was supposed to say yes.

Instead, she looked as though he had just asked her to walk a tightrope over a pit of fire.

"Ethan..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he could hear the unease in it.

His heart pounded. He had expected nerves. He had expected maybe even a few tears. But not this. No hesitation.

"Olivia," he said, keeping his voice steady. "I love you. We've been together for two years, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

The words hung in the air.

Olivia sucked in a breath.

Her hands gripped the edges of the white linen napkin on her lap.

And then, the worst possible thing happened.

She shook her head.

Not an immediate, forceful no-but a slow, conflicted shake that made his stomach drop.

Oh God.

A murmur rippled through the nearby tables. A waiter holding a tray of champagne flutes hesitated mid-step. Even the pianist in the corner, who had been playing soft background music, seemed to falter over a note.

"Ethan," Olivia said, her voice filled with regret. "I... I can't."

His throat went dry.

She can't?

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

This was the moment where she was supposed to smile through happy tears, say yes, and throw her arms around him. Where the restaurant would break into applause and their love story would take its next perfect step forward.

Instead, he was standing here, ring in hand, as the woman he loved told him she couldn't marry him.

"Olivia," he said, still trying to process what was happening. "What do you mean?"

She closed her eyes briefly before meeting his gaze. "I mean... I'm not ready for this."

His chest tightened. "We've been together for two years."

"I know." She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "And I love you, Ethan. But marriage? We've never even talked about it."

"I thought it was obvious," he said, voice clipped. "I thought we were serious."

Her lips pressed together. "Seriously, yes. But marriage is a huge step. And this-" She gestured around them, the candlelit table, the champagne bucket, the quiet crowd of spectators hanging onto every word. "This is a lot."

His fingers curled into a fist around the box.

A lot?

He had planned this moment for weeks.

He had imagined this proposal a hundred times in his head.

He had never imagined this.

"So you're saying no." The words felt like acid in his throat.

She hesitated. "I'm saying... not right now."

The distinction didn't matter. It still felt like rejection.

The pity in her eyes was unbearable.

Ethan forced himself to nod. He snapped the box shut, shoved it into his pocket, and reached for his wallet. The moment he dropped a few bills on the table and pushed back his chair, Olivia's eyes widened.

"Ethan, wait-"

But he was already standing, already stepping away. "Enjoy your dinner," he said tightly.

And then he walked out, leaving behind the love of his life, a table full of uneaten food, and the remnants of a shattered dream.

Ethan Montgomery had never walked away from a fight before.

But last night, when Olivia had shattered his hopes of a perfect future, he hadn't seen a reason to stay. The moment she'd said, I can't, something inside him had cracked. He had left The Grand Oak without another word, ignoring the curious stares of strangers, the murmurs of disbelief, and even Olivia's soft, pleading Ethan, wait.

Now, twelve hours later, he was nursing a headache in his office, staring blankly at his computer screen.

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Montgomery & Pierce Real Estate, but he barely noticed. His mind was still stuck on last night-on the rejection, on the humiliation, on the way Olivia had looked at him with something between regret and sadness.

Why had she hesitated?

Had she ever even considered a future with him?

Or worse... had she already decided long ago that she wouldn't marry him?

A sharp knock at his office door cut through his thoughts.

Before he could respond, the door swung open, and his best friend and business partner, Liam Pierce, walked in with his usual air of confidence.

Liam took one look at him and let out a low whistle. "Damn. You look like hell."

Ethan leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thanks for that."

Liam smirked and dropped into the chair across from his desk. "So... are we gonna talk about it?"

"No."

"Too bad. It's all over town."

Ethan's jaw tightened. "What?"

Liam pulled out his phone and slid it across the desk. "Someone at The Grand Oak recorded the whole thing."

Ethan hesitated before glancing at the screen. Sure enough, a blurry video was playing-him kneeling in front of Olivia, her expression stricken, his voice barely audible over the restaurant's murmurs.

His stomach twisted. "Unbelievable."

"The internet's having a field day. 'Montgomery Real Estate Mogul Rejected in Public Proposal.'" Liam leaned back, arms crossed. "I mean, rough for you, but fantastic PR for our company. People love drama."

Ethan glared at him. "Glad my humiliation is so entertaining."

Liam held up his hands. "I'm just saying, if you wanna spin this into a redemption arc, now's your chance."

Ethan exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. He wasn't in the mood for redemption. He just wanted the whole damn thing to go away.

And then, as if the universe wasn't done kicking him, his phone rang.

He didn't recognize the number, but something told him to answer.

"Ethan Montgomery," he said, voice tight.

A smooth, practiced voice came through the line. "Mr. Montgomery, this is Christine Lowell from The Donovan Group."

His grip on the phone tightened.

The Donovan Group was one of the biggest investment firms in the city. And they were the ones backing his company's latest luxury development project-a project that had the potential to take Montgomery & Pierce Real Estate to the next level.

"We need to discuss your upcoming partnership event," Christine continued. "Mr. Donovan is concerned about the... recent publicity."

Ethan's stomach sank.

Liam raised an eyebrow, clearly hearing enough to know the call was bad news.

Christine sighed. "Look, I'll be blunt. Donovan prefers to invest in businesses that project stability. Your proposal going viral... it's not exactly inspiring confidence."

Ethan gritted his teeth. "My personal life has nothing to do with my business."

"Normally, I'd agree," she said smoothly. "But you're set to be the face of this project. The image of a man who just got rejected in public doesn't exactly scream trustworthy investment."

Ethan fought the urge to slam his fist on the desk. "So what are you saying?"

"We're not pulling our investment," she assured him. "Yet. But Mr. Donovan needs reassurance that you're still someone he can trust."

Ethan exhaled. "What kind of reassurance?"

Christine hesitated before finally saying, "He wants to see that you're in a committed relationship. That your life isn't... unraveling."

Ethan stilled.

Christine continued, "The Donovan Group's annual gala is in two weeks. It would help if you showed up with a fiancée."

His grip on the phone tightened. "Are you serious?"

"Completely."

Ethan nearly laughed. "So you want me to parade around a woman just to make Donovan feel better?"

"I'm saying," Christine said carefully, "that the right image matters. If you were to, say... reconcile with your fiancée before the gala, it would go a long way."

Reconcile.

As if Olivia hadn't completely shut the door on him last night.

Ethan clenched his jaw. "I'll handle it."

"Good." Christine's tone softened. "For what it's worth, I'm rooting for you, Mr. Montgomery."

The line went dead.

Ethan slowly set his phone down, his mind racing.

Liam, who had been listening to his half of the conversation, leaned forward. "So let me get this straight. Donovan won't back out... if you prove you're still engaged?"

"Something like that."

Liam let out a low chuckle. "Well, this is awkward."

Ethan didn't respond. His brain was already working through the impossible situation he had just been thrown into.

He needed a fiancée.

And there was only one person who could play that role.

His stomach twisted at the thought of asking Olivia. After last night, after the way she had looked at him with regret and hesitation... how could he possibly ask her to fake an engagement?

But if he didn't... his company's biggest deal could fall apart.

He raked a hand through his hair.

He was out of options.

Liam smirked. "So... how exactly are you gonna convince the woman who just turned you down to pretend to be madly in love with you?"

Ethan exhaled sharply. "I have no idea."

But he was about to find out.

Because whether Olivia liked it or not...

He needed her.

And he was willing to make a deal she couldn't refuse.

Ethan Montgomery had never begged for anything in his life.

But as he stood outside Olivia Reynolds' apartment, his stomach twisted with the knowledge that today, he might have to.

The morning air was crisp, but the tension in his chest made it feel suffocating. He'd spent the last hour pacing his office, trying to convince himself that there had to be another way. That there was anyone else who could play the role of his fiancée. But every scenario had led him right back to the same conclusion.

It had to be Olivia.

No one else would be believable. They had history. Their relationship had been real-until last night, at least. Trying to introduce someone new would only raise suspicion.

Ethan let out a slow breath, clenched his fists at his sides, and knocked.

A long pause.

Then, footsteps.

When the door finally swung open, Olivia stood before him in an oversized sweater, leggings, and fuzzy socks. Her usually sleek chestnut hair was a little messy, as if she had just rolled out of bed, and her face was makeup-free.

For a moment, Ethan felt something deep inside him twist. He had always thought Olivia was beautiful, but there was something about her like this-unfiltered, vulnerable-that made his chest tighten in a way he didn't like.

Then she blinked up at him, and whatever softness he felt vanished.

"Ethan?" Her voice was laced with surprise and... hesitation. "What are you doing here?"

He clenched his jaw. "We need to talk."

Olivia sighed and glanced behind her, as if debating whether or not to slam the door in his face. He wouldn't have blamed her.

Instead, she stepped aside. "Fine. Come in."

He entered, taking in the familiar scent of her apartment-a mix of vanilla candles and fresh coffee. It made something inside him ache.

She crossed her arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Alright. Talk."

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. The words that wouldn't make him sound like a desperate man grasping at straws.

But there was no sugarcoating this.

"I need you to pretend to be my fiancée," he said flatly.

Silence.

Then Olivia let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "I'm sorry, what?"

Ethan exhaled. "It's complicated."

"You think?" She shook her head, disbelief clear in her eyes. "You show up at my door after I just turned down your real proposal and now you want me to pretend to be engaged to you?"

"Yes."

Olivia blinked, as if she had misheard him. "Ethan, are you insane?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Probably. But I don't have a choice."

She scoffed. "There's always a choice."

"Not this time," he countered. "The Donovan Group-our biggest investor-saw the video last night. Now they're questioning my stability and whether they should continue backing my real estate project. If I don't show up to their gala in two weeks with a fiancée, I could lose everything."

Olivia stared at him, processing.

He could practically see her mind working, weighing the insanity of his request against the urgency in his voice.

Finally, she let out a slow breath. "Ethan, I... I don't know what to say. This is crazy."

"I know," he admitted. "But I wouldn't be here if I had any other option."

She gave him a wary look. "And why do you think I would agree to this?"

He hesitated.

This was the part where he had to make it worth her while.

"You said last night that you're not ready for marriage," he said carefully. "That it's too big of a step for you."

Her lips pressed together. "That's not-" She sighed. "Yes. That's true."

"Then let me make you a deal." He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering. "Help me out with this-pretend to be my fiancée for two weeks-and in return, I'll walk away. No more expectations. No more pressure about the future."

Olivia frowned. "You're saying if I do this, you'll... what? Leave me alone?"

A pang of something sharp shot through him at the thought. But he forced himself to nod.

"If that's what you want," he said. "After the gala, we can go our separate ways. No strings attached. You get your freedom. I get to keep my company's biggest deal."

Silence stretched between them.

Ethan watched her closely, noting the way she bit her lip in thought. The Olivia he knew wasn't impulsive-she was cautious, logical. She wouldn't say yes unless there was something in it for her.

And he had just given her an out.

After what felt like an eternity, she let out a slow exhale. "Two weeks?"

"Two weeks."

"You'll never bring up marriage again?"

His chest tightened, but he nodded. "Never."

Olivia stared at him a moment longer, then finally, reluctantly, extended her hand.

"Fine," she said. "You've got yourself a fake fiancée."

Ethan clasped her hand in his, ignoring the way his skin burned at the touch.

"Deal," he murmured.

But as they shook on it, something in the back of his mind whispered that this was a mistake.

Because pretending to be engaged to Olivia for two weeks?

It was going to be hell.

And maybe-just maybe-he wouldn't want to let her go when it was over.