Episode 1

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...CHAPTER 1...

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...EMMA RIOS...

I never imagined my dignity would have a price.

Much less that I would set it myself.

In front of me, the contract seemed like a cruel joke.

Thirteen clauses, three signatures, and a sentence disguised as an opportunity.

"Read it slowly," he told me, without looking up from his cell phone. "I don't want complaints later."

Leonardo Blake.

Thirty years old. Millionaire. CEO of Blake Technologies.

Son of a family that breathes money and contempt equally.

The man who was about to buy six months of my life.

I swallowed and pretended to be calm.

The air in his office was heavy. Everything in that place shone: the windows, the clocks, his damn tie. And I... I only shone with nervous sweat on my hands.

"Clause number one," I read aloud, "The marriage between both parties will last exactly six months, with the option of extension according to contractual necessity."

"Correct," he said, without emotion.

"“Contractual necessity.”"

This man couldn't need more of me.

"Clause number two: "Mrs. Rios must accompany Mr. Blake to all required public events, maintaining the appearance of a stable romantic relationship."

"Stable?" I murmured with irony. "You didn't tell me the role included a good performance."

He looked up from his phone for the first time.

His gray eyes pierced me.

"I pay you enough to make it seem real."

I hated him at that moment. Or maybe I hated myself for needing the money.

I took a deep breath and continued reading.

The following clauses were just as absurd: not sleeping in the same bed, not appearing in compromised places without authorization, not wearing "too provocative" clothing.

I almost laughed when I got to that one.

"And who defines what's provocative?" I asked.

"I do."

"Of course, how could I not have guessed," I scoffed. "The master and lord of decorum."

He didn't even blink. He just watched me as if he already wanted me to sign and stop saying stupid things.

Then I got to the part that made me stop.

Clause number seven.

"Under no circumstances may the parties involved develop, express, or maintain real romantic or affective feelings between each other. Failure to comply with this clause will be grounds for immediate termination of the contract and economic penalty."

I was speechless.

A marriage contract that prohibits falling in love.

"How ridiculous. As well as tempting."

"Are you kidding?" I said, looking up.

"I'm being practical." His voice sounded cold but firm. "Feelings complicate business."

"What if I accidentally fall in love with you?" I asked with a sarcastic smile.

His lips barely curved.

"Then it would be your mistake. And your debt."

I wanted to hit him with the pen.

But I remembered why I was there: my sister.

Sofia Rios

Sofia was diagnosed at thirteen with chronic kidney failure (CKF) as a result of an autoimmune disease not detected in time.

Sofia's kidneys stopped filtering toxins from the body correctly. She lives tired, with nausea and a constant paleness that she cannot hide. Sometimes her voice trembles when she speaks, but she still tries to make me laugh. The good days are few, but she takes advantage of them as if they were gifts.

Since then, she has depended on dialysis three times a week, and doctors have warned that she needs an urgent kidney transplant to have a normal life.

She is currently sixteen years old.

The procedure is expensive, the hospital requires a high initial payment, and compatible donors are scarce.

The image of Sofia in that hospital bed broke my heart.

The tubes, the machines, the bill that grew every day.

My pride was worth less than her life.

So I swallowed my words and signed the first page.

My hand trembled, but I did it.

"Welcome to my luxurious life, Mrs. Blake," he said in a low, almost hoarse voice.

I felt a shiver.

*“Mrs. Blake.”*

It didn't even sound real.

Me? Married to Leonardo Blake?

Please. Two weeks ago, I didn't even know how to pronounce the name of his company.

It all started with a photocopier.

Yes, a damn photocopier.

It was my first day as a temporary assistant at Blake Technologies.

The job basically consisted of making coffee, smiling a lot, and pretending to understand what a "quarterly projection report" was.

And there I was, trying to keep the machine from exploding, when the CEO himself decided to appear.

"Is that what it should sound like?" a deep voice asked behind me.

I jumped in fright. I literally jumped.

And, as a good professional, the first thing I did was turn around with a sheet stuck in my hair.

"It depends..." I stammered, "what should a photocopier sound like when it's working perfectly?"

He didn't answer. He just watched me with that look of boredom with superiority.

I, nervous, started pressing buttons like crazy. And, of course, the machine swallowed everything.

Mr. Blake let out a long sigh, one of those that say, "I regret running into you."

"Step aside," he ordered.

"Yes, of course, sir."

The guy bent down, pressed two buttons, and the machine started working as if nothing had happened.

I was left looking stupid with a torn sheet in my hand.

"Ready," he said, looking at me. "It wasn't that complicated."

"Sure, not for you. You have the manual of life included."

"And you, apparently, came without a warranty."

From that day I knew I wouldn't get along with that guy.

Well, I hated him and... I looked at him more than necessary.

Because, let's be honest: that appearance caused a hormonal problem.

...----------------...

A week later, I had already made enough mistakes for Human Resources to hate me.

I spilled coffee on an important report, confused the names of two directors, and, to top it off, sent an internal email criticizing "His Excellency the CEO"... to His Excellency the CEO.

Yes.

To Leonardo Blake.

My working life ended there. Or so I thought.

He called me to his office, and I arrived ready to say goodbye.

But instead of yelling at me, he smiled.

Yes, he smiled.

Which was even more terrifying.

"Miss Rios," he said, crossing his arms, "I have a proposal."

I swallowed.

*Proposal?*

"I'm listening," I said, trying to sound professional.

"I need a wife."

Silence.

"Was the guy serious?"

"Excuse me?" I said. "A what?"

"A wife. Fake, temporary and discreet."

I blinked several times.

"Not to offend you or anything, but... are you feeling well by any chance? Don't you have a fever? Are you sure what you're telling me?"

"Totally. And before you think improper things, I'm not in love with you. I just need to solve an image problem."

I had a fit of laughter.

Literal. I laughed so much that I almost choked.

And he looked at me with a stone face.

"This has to be a joke, right? Where's the hidden camera? Where's the reality team?"

"It's not a joke," he replied with an irritating expression. "If you accept, you'll have a generous payment."

"What kind of generous payment?"

"Enough to pay for whatever is worrying you."

And there I froze. My smile disappeared.

Because... how did he know that?

He noticed it.

"I investigate everyone who works for me. Your sister... her name is Sofia, right? I know she's in San Miguel Hospital."

My stomach shrank.

That's how I ended up signing a marriage contract with my boss days later.

Total madness.

From a girl who could barely afford transportation, I became "the wife" of the most inaccessible and millionaire man in the city.

Although I did it out of necessity, a part of me couldn't stop thinking that, if life were a romantic comedy, this would be the moment when someone stumbles and falls in love.

Except that here, the only stumbling was mine... and it was with his ego.

...----------------...

I returned to the present, to his silent office, with that heavy engagement ring shining on my finger.

Leonardo checked his watch as if signing a fake marriage was part of his daily routine.

"You look like you regret it," he said, without looking at me.

"No. I look like 'what the hell am I doing with my life?'"

"It's practically the same thing."

I sighed and stood up.

My heart was beating so fast I could barely think.

"So... what's next, boss? Rehearsing the kiss in front of the cameras?"

He gave me a slow look.

"No need to rehearse, Emma. Just make sure it's believable."

Well.

Now I'm officially Mrs. Blake for six months.

I welcome myself to my new, sophisticated and luxurious life.

Only there's one small detail...

I haven't told my boyfriend.

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...*Emma Rios* ...

My name is Emma Rios, I am twenty-three years old and I have a life so chaotic that not even Netflix would dare to adapt it.

I study design —when fatigue allows me—I work as a temporary assistant in a company where even the printers cost more than my rent, and I take care of my sick sister, who is basically my reason for continuing to breathe coffee and anxiety every day.

I am sarcastic, impulsive and a little disastrous, but when life slaps me, I return two.

Romantic? Not much.

Proud? Too much.

Stupid for agreeing to marry my boss? …no comment.

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