Chapter 2 THE PRICE OF A PRETEND WIFE

Adrian Blackwood was no stranger to high-stakes negotiations. He'd locked eyes with men who commanded entire empires, picked apart hostile takeovers before noon, and watched senior executives crumble under a single look. But now, across his desk, sat a woman who didn't flinch when faced with a contract that should have saved her business-instead, she told him to keep his hands off her life.

Elena Hayes sat with her fingertips just touching the papers he'd laid out. She didn't speak first; she just waited. She'd expected him to push back, maybe deliver a speech about how generous his offer was. The silence stretched, and for a moment, she wondered if she'd finally asked for something Adrian Blackwood couldn't just buy off.

He finally broke the quiet. "You misunderstood the arrangement. I'm offering a solution to a problem you haven't solved."

Elena didn't blink. "And I'm outlining the terms that let me accept it."

His gaze narrowed, sharp and measuring. "You're facing foreclosure in seven days."

"I'm well aware."

"Your hotel's bleeding money. Creditors want their due. The only reason you're here is because my company now holds your debt."

"And saying all that again won't make me hand over my independence."

Adrian leaned back, watching her like she was a line in a contract that didn't add up. Most people came asking for his help ready to flatter, to boast, or to throw themselves at him-only to back out the moment they got a better offer. Elena, on the other hand, seemed determined to make this business as disagreeable as possible.

He should've found her exasperating. But instead, he just wanted to see how far she'd push him.

"So, what exactly do you want changed?" he asked.

Elena pulled out a battered notebook. She'd filled it with points last night, after deciding she wasn't desperate enough to sell her pride.

"First, the hotel stays mine. Your payment clears the debt, but you don't get ownership, management rights, or power over its future."

"That's a big demand."

"It's my mother's business."

"And if it fails again?"

"I'll handle it."

He paused, then waved her on.

"Second, this engagement ends in six months unless we both agree otherwise. No extensions unless we both sign off. Third, you don't control my work, friends, wardrobe, or what I do when we're not publicly together."

His face stayed unreadable, but she could tell her rules grated on him.

"So you want to dictate how I conduct my engagement."

She smiled, not kindly. "Just making sure playing your fiancée doesn't mean you own me."

"I've never treated a woman like property."

"Probably because you rarely have to. Most people agree with you before you find out what happens when they don't."

They stared each other down for a moment. Elena didn't look away. She couldn't afford to-if she started doubting her own rules now, Adrian Blackwood and his presence would take all of it away.

He reached for the contract. "Anything else?"

"Yes. No physical intimacy required. If we have to act affectionate in public, we talk first. I won't be forced into anything just because you think it'll look convincing."

That caught him. He'd expected arguments over money or the contract length-not a clear reminder that trust was in short supply.

"You think I'd force you?"

"I think contracts shouldn't rest on what one person assumes the other will tolerate."

Her tone was steady, almost businesslike, but that only made it harder to ignore.

Adrian looked back at the pages. His grandfather had made the engagement non-negotiable, and with a shareholder review on the horizon, he didn't have time to waste. He needed someone who could survive the scrutiny, blend in, but not turn every appearance into a performance. Elena clearly wouldn't flinch in the spotlight.

She also wasn't going to make any of this easy for him.

"If I agree, what do I get in return?" He sounded almost curious.

Elena looked briefly startled that he even considered her terms.

"You get the engagement you wanted. I'll attend events, answer appropriate questions, and keep up appearances. I won't lie to hurt anyone else, and I won't let you script my life."

"You'll be an especially difficult fiancée."

"I'm sure you'll manage."

He almost smiled-almost. It vanished before she could be sure.

Adrian called in his assistant, gave instructions to update the contract, and Elena watched every change as it happened. She checked the new version carefully, especially the part about her hotel.

The debt would be gone. The hotel stayed hers. Adrian's company couldn't touch its future or management.

For the first time since she'd received the foreclosure notice, Elena let herself believe she might actually get through this.

She signed. So did he, closing the folder with a solid snap.

"Six months, Miss Hayes. Let's see how long you last."

Elena tucked her copy into her bag. "I was thinking the same."

He stood, offered his hand-a gesture clearly meant to close the meeting. She only hesitated a second before shaking it. His grip was sure, warm, and lingered just a bit longer than necessary.

Then it was over.

"My assistant will send the schedule," he said. "There's a press event next week, and several more where your attendance is required. We'll also need to discuss living arrangements."

"I have a home."

"Your home's a hotel that's almost foreclosed."

"It's still my home."

"Living at my penthouse would make the engagement look real. It also makes logistics simpler."

Elena lifted her chin. "I'll consider it, but I won't move in just because you said so."

"Do you challenge every suggestion?"

She shrugged. "Only the ones disguised as commands."

He actually smiled this time-a flash of amusement-before turning away.

"My life isn't as flexible as yours."

"Then maybe this is good for you."

She left, signed contract in hand, hope for the hotel finally within reach.

Adrian lingered by the window long after she'd gone. He'd closed the deal, but it didn't feel like a win. Usually, he knew exactly who had the upper hand by the end. With Elena, he wasn't sure if he'd just gained control or agreed to step into a game with no clear rules.

His phone rang.

"Mr. Blackwood," Olivia said, "your grandfather confirmed Friday's dinner. He wants to meet Miss Hayes before the announcement."

"Set it up."

"And Richard Sterling wants to discuss your engagement-privately."

Adrian's voice went cold. "Tell him my personal life isn't a negotiation."

"He won't like that."

"He'll learn."

After hanging up, Adrian opened Elena's file again. He skimmed her financials-only this time, he noticed what he'd missed before. There were all those years of unpaid overtime logged in the hotel accounts, maintenance costs she'd covered herself, and regular payments made to ex-employees even as business collapsed.

She'd been keeping everyone above water while drowning herself.

He shut the file, unsettled by how much that bothered him. He'd come here to wipe out debt, no more. Why should her situation affect him beyond this arrangement?

Still, when his assistant asked about initiating the payment, he didn't hesitate.

"Today. Get written proof the auction's canceled and the property stays in her name."

That afternoon, Elena stood in the hotel office, staring at the official email on her screen. No more foreclosure. Debt, paid. Her mother's hotel had another chance.

She pressed her hand over her mouth, tears blurring the words. For months, she'd forced herself to be practical-panic wouldn't help. Now, relief came too suddenly to hold back.

Her assistant manager peered through the door. "Everything all right?"

Elena wiped her face and smiled. "We have a future. Really."

Alone, she glanced at a photo of her mother on the desk.

"I haven't lost it," she whispered. "Not yet."

Her phone vibrated with a message from an unknown number.

Adrian Blackwood: Settlement's in process. Olivia will send details about Friday's dinner. Be ready by seven.

She read it, typed back:

Elena Hayes: Thank you for handling the debt. I'll confirm after Olivia sends what I need. Remember, signing a contract doesn't give you control of my schedule.

She hit send before she could second guess herself.

Downtown, Adrian checked his phone in the elevator. His first reflex was to remind her how critical Friday was. His second was to wonder why someone who'd just rescued her hotel still had so much energy left to argue.

Instead, he sent three words.

Adrian Blackwood: Understood, Miss Hayes.

He stared at the screen, a little annoyed he'd let her have the last word, then pocketed his phone.

Six months. It was supposed to be simple-a clear deal with a clear end date. No reason for drama, certainly no reason for her to get under his skin.

But looking out over the city, he realized that with Elena, nothing was going to stay under his control for long.

Meanwhile, Elena walked back into the hotel lobby, her mother's chandelier casting its familiar, golden glow on the floor. She thought the hardest part was over.

She had no idea how much harder it would be when she stopped pretending Adrian Blackwood didn't matter.