The CEO's Fake Fiancée: A Dangerous Deal

I stood at my engagement gala in a pale gold dress that felt more like a straightjacket than silk. My fiancé, Camden Benjamin, looked at me with pure coldness, treating me like a prop for his billion-dollar merger.

Everything shattered when my cousin Chloe tripped and blamed me for ruining her dress. Camden didn’t ask for my side; he grabbed my arm and screamed for me to apologize before the entire high-society crowd.

I didn't apologize. Instead, I hijacked the stage and projected a high-def video of Camden and Chloe’s affair onto the massive LED screens. I dropped my engagement ring into a glass of champagne and walked out, thinking I was finally free.

But the nightmare was just beginning. My Uncle Marcus cornered me that night, revealing he had already contacted a doctor to have me committed to a mental asylum so he could seize my inheritance.

He stood there dangling my dead mother’s heirloom brooch over a balcony, threatening to destroy the only thing I had left of her. I realized then that the car crash that killed my parents wasn't an accident; it was a hit ordered by the very family I had just humiliated.

I was homeless, hunted by paparazzi, and facing a forced lobotomy. I had no money, no allies, and a target on my back.

A few nights later, Marcus found me at a restaurant and raised his hand to strike me for my "insubordination." I saw Camden sitting nearby, watching the chaos with those same stormy, calculating eyes.

I didn't run. I walked over and looped my arm through Camden's, feeling his muscles tense under my touch.

"I wasn't sleeping around, Uncle," I said, looking Marcus straight in the eye. "I was visiting my boyfriend. Tell him, Camden."

Camden looked at me, a dangerous, shark-like smile playing on his lips as he squeezed my hand.

"Is there a problem with who I choose to date, Harding?"

I needed a shield, and he needed a way to dodge his mother’s forced marriage. It was time to make a deal with the devil.