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Contract with the CEO: No Falling in Love

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Episode 3

...CHAPTER 3...

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...EMMA RIOS...

I never thought choosing a dress for a fake wedding would be more stressful than for a real one.

But there I was, in front of the mirror, my heart pounding as if I were about to commit a crime.

I bit my lip, trying to convince myself that the cream-colored dress—which looked more expensive than my entire year's rent—didn't make me look as guilty as I felt.

While I adjusted the zipper, my cell phone vibrated on the table.

Martin.

For a second, I hesitated whether to answer. I shouldn't. I didn't have to. But my fingers moved before my brain.

"Hello?"

"Emma..." His voice sounded broken, as if he hadn't slept all night. "I just want to see you. For a while. Please don't do this to me."

I closed my eyes. If I listened to him for another second, I was going to break down.

"I can't, Martin."

"You said you'd think about it."

"And I did."

"And?"

"And... I still don't know if it's a good idea."

"He's manipulating you, isn't he?" he whispered.

"Let's talk when you're calmer, okay?" I lied. "I have to hang up."

I didn't wait for his response.

I hung up, looked at myself in the mirror again, and saw a stranger.

That girl with perfectly styled hair and flawless makeup wasn't me.

I was the one who served coffee, the one who was late for work because the bus was delayed, the one who cried for fear of not paying the rent.

But that version of me was about to disappear.

I sighed, grabbed my bag, and went down the stairs of the mansion.

And there he was.

Leaning against his black car, with his shirt sleeves rolled up and that arrogant face that irritated me so much... and intimidated me.

"You're late, Mrs. Blake," he said sarcastically as soon as he saw me.

"I'm not your Mrs. yet," I replied, crossing my arms.

"Details," he retorted, and snapped his fingers.

Out of nowhere, Susan, his personal assistant (also known as the woman who could dominate the planet if she wanted to), appeared.

She held out an envelope, and two cards gleamed in front of me. One black and one platinum, both with my name engraved.

"What's this?" I asked, taking them carefully as if they were explosive devices.

"Your cards," Leonardo replied with absolute naturalness. "The black one is unlimited. The platinum one has a monthly limit, but all purchases are monitored in case you get any silly ideas."

"Silly ideas like what?" I asked.

"Like trying to buy love. Or your conscience."

"Oh, calm down, Mr. Morality," I said, twirling the cards between my fingers. "I'm forced to do a job like this and... I'm not going to take advantage of these cards? Oh, I'm going to get the most out of these. Enduring your bad mood has to be good for something, right?"

Susan cleared her throat to hide her laughter. Leonardo gave me a look that said, "Don't test me."

But too late. I already had.

"And before you plan your new shopping life," he continued, "there are some things that have changed."

"Oh, really? Are you going to put me in a uniform too?"

"Worse. I'm going to free you."

"Free?"

"You won't work at the company anymore."

I was silent.

"I want you to focus on your university and your sister. Nothing else. You have six months to make this work. I want a fiancee who looks happy, rested, and, above all, convincing."

"What about my colleagues? What do I tell them?"

"That you were promoted."

"To wife," I retorted.

Leonardo held my gaze, impassive.

"Take it as a challenge. And speaking of that..." he crossed his arms, "have you talked to your boyfriend yet?"

The air froze between us.

"Yes," I replied, looking down. "I already did what you asked."

"And?"

"He's not going to be a problem anymore."

"Perfect," he said, though his tone didn't sound satisfied. "I don't want this situation to become a cover story in a gossip magazine."

I felt a lump in my throat.

"It won't happen."

"I hope not." He looked at me for a few more seconds, with those gray eyes that seemed to see more than you said. "Although I'm surprised how quickly you could leave someone."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Just that some people think about it before breaking someone else's heart."

"Excuse me?" I blurted out, in a tone higher than I intended. "Now you're going to give me morality lessons, you, the one who's paying me to pretend to be your wife?"

Leonardo clenched his jaw.

"I didn't force you to accept."

"No, you just put a contract with absurd clauses and a check that solved all my problems in front of me."

"I gave you an opportunity, Emma."

"For what? To sell my dignity at a discount?"

The silence that followed was brutal.

I could hear my own heart hammering inside my chest.

Leonardo sighed and took a step closer.

"Don't mix things up. This is a deal, not a game."

"And yet, it feels like a circus."

He smiled, barely, an almost invisible curve.

"Then make sure you're the best actress in the show."

I stared at him, frustrated and confused. I didn't know if I wanted to slap him or kiss him (well, no, not kiss... although his lips had that kind of provocative arrogance that... better not).

He took out his cell phone, as if nothing had happened.

"Susan will send you the day's agenda. There's a photo shoot for the press and a dinner with investors tonight."

"Perfect," I said sarcastically. "I love spontaneity."

"And Emma..."

"What?"

"Make sure 'Martin' doesn't call you again, especially in front of the cameras."

I froze.

"How...?"

"Susan told me. She heard you 'practicing' in front of the mirror."

I felt my cheeks burn.

"It was an accident."

"I hope it doesn't happen again," he said coldly.