Pearl stared at Richard, speechless, his words still echoing in her ears. Say yes and I will handle everything. It played on repeat in her mind like a haunting tune. She wasn't even sure she had blinked since he said it. Her throat went dry, and her palms grew clammy. She swallowed hard.
The very idea was absurd. She'd only just met him. This man, this cold, composed billionaire was asking her to pretend to be his fiancee. Why? How had she even gotten here? The weight of the world seemed to crash down on her shoulders at that moment.
"I…" she began, her voice shaky.
Richard remained still, watching her. His gaze wasn't demanding, but it was intense.
Pearl dragged her eyes away from his. She looked toward the garden beyond the court, where warm outdoor lights bathed the trimmed hedges in gold. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of what her heart couldn't.
This was madness.
But what choice did she have?
If she refused, the press would eat her alive. Her name would be ruined. Her career, future — gone. It would follow her everywhere. A moment of drunken misplacement would define the rest of her life.
Pearl shifted her gaze back to him thinking again silently. This wasn't romantic. It wasn't some fairytale proposal under the stars.
It was survival.
"Alright," she said finally, her voice a whisper. "I'll do it."
Richard didn't smile. He simply nodded once, sharply. "Good."
Pearl couldn't read his thoughts. His face was stone, a mask of someone too used to control to ever betray uncertainty.
"I'll have my driver take you home," he said after a beat, already turning away and speaking into his phone.
Pearl stood rooted to the ground for a moment longer. Her limbs felt numb. Her stomach churned with unease, disbelief, and something else she didn't want to name.
A few moments later, she found herself in the backseat of a sleek black car, her hands clutching her phone, but her eyes staring blankly outside the tinted window. The city passed in a blur, but she hardly noticed. Her mind was tangled in a whirlwind of questions.
What did I just agree to?
What does this even mean?
I'm engaged. To Richard Harrison.
She almost laughed out loud. It felt like a cruel joke. If someone had told her that morning that she'd be engaged by nightfall—to a man she didn't love, didn't really know—she would have called them insane. And yet, here she was.
But even thinking about it made her chest tighten.
Her phone buzzed in her purse. Dozens of messages, missed calls, social media alerts. She didn't check. She couldn't.
The world thought she was living the dream swept into the arms of the richest man in Montelucia. But none of them knew what it actually felt like to sign away your normal life for the sake of appearances.
And it terrified her.
Her throat constricted. Her breathing grew shallow. She couldn't sit still.
A hollow ache settled in her chest. Was this a trap or a miracle? She'd been trying so hard to piece her life together after everything. And now this?
The car felt too quiet, too tense. She shifted in her seat and leaned forward slightly.
Can you stop the car?" she asked the driver.
The man looked at her through the rearview mirror. "Ma'am?"
"I just need a moment. Please stop."
He nodded and pulled over near a cozy-looking cafe on a quiet street. Pearl quickly stepped out, letting the crisp air brush against her flushed cheeks. She needed something—anything—to ground her. And most importantly she needed to breathe.
She crossed the road and walked over to the cafe. She then pushed open the cafe door and was greeted by the warm aroma of coffee and pastries. The ambiance was soft, with the hum of conversations and soft jazz playing in the background. She approached the counter.
Pearl ordered a cup of caramel macchiato and a plate of scones. Comfort food. The kind of warm sweetness that soothed anxiety and masked fear.
She chose a corner table, tucked near the window, and sank into her seat with a heavy sigh.
Her mind wouldn't stop racing. She replayed the conversation over and over, his voice, his certainty, the look in his eyes when he said he'd protect her.
What am I doing?
She rubbed her temples, barely noticing the figure that approached her table.
"Is this seat taken?"
The voice was deep, smooth, and curious.
Pearl looked up sharply, her breath catching slightly.
Tall. Stylish. Wickedly handsome.
The man gave her a polite smile, hand resting casually on the back of the chair across from her.
"I—um…" she faltered.
"Coffee shops this quiet usually mean good company," he added, that easy confidence making her feel oddly safe.
She blinked. "You want to sit?"
"If you don't mind."
Pearl hesitated, then nodded. "Sure."
He pulled out the chair and sat with the fluid grace of someone comfortable in his skin. His dark brown eyes met hers with gentle amusement.
"I'm Jaxon," he said, extending a hand.
"Pearl," she replied softly, shaking it.
"Well, Pearl, I'm going to go out on a limb and say you've had a rough day."
Her lips twitched. "You have no idea."
"I'm a good listener," he teased, then leaned back slightly. "But only if the coffee's strong."
Pearl let out a short laugh, surprising herself.
He wasn't pushy. He wasn't pretending to know her. He was just… there. And for the first time that evening, she didn't feel like the world was caving in.
The barista brought her macchiato and scones. She murmured a thank-you and sipped cautiously.
"So," Jaxon said, eyes flicking to the pastries. "Do you always self-medicate with sugar and caffeine?"
"Only on nights I agree to life-altering secrets," she said dryly.
He raised an eyebrow but didn't push for more. "Heavy night, then."
She nodded, a faint smile ghosting her lips.
They chatted for a while, nothing too deep. He asked about the books she liked. She found out he worked in a tech firm though he didn't say which one.
When he flirted, it was light, tasteful, like a touch of cologne rather than a full spray.
After a while, Pearl checked the time and realized how late it was.
"I should go," she said, finishing the last sip of her coffee.
"Already?" he asked, clearly disappointed, though he masked it well.
She stood and grabbed her bag. "It was nice talking to you, Jaxon."
He rose with her, his smile tilting just a little. "Think I'll see you around?"
Pearl paused, looking at him for a long beat.
Maybe it was the kindness in his eyes. Maybe the part of her that wanted to believe the universe wasn't completely insane.
She smiled softly. "Who knows?"
And with that, she walked out into the night.
The evening air greeted her with a gentle breeze, cool against her skin. She stepped down to the sidewalk and froze.
Across the street, Richard's car was still parked exactly where it had been. The same sleek, black luxury SUV. Its headlights were off, but the driver remained behind the wheel, just as composed as he'd been earlier.
Her mouth parted in a soft gasp. He waited?
Guilt crept in like a shadow. She hadn't told anyone she'd wandered off. She'd simply asked for a moment of air and disappeared.
With cautious steps, she crossed the street and approached the car. The driver noticed her immediately and stepped out to open the door, as if no time had passed at all.
"I'm so sorry," she murmured, sliding into the backseat.
The driver only offered a polite nod. "It's no problem, Miss."
As the door closed behind her, the interior wrapped her in silence. The air smelled faintly of leather and citrus. Outside, the city lights blurred as they pulled away from the curb.
Pearl leaned her head against the window, fingers trembling slightly as she pulled out her phone. Her thumb hovered over Aria's name.
She needed to talk to someone. Someone who wouldn't let her spiral.
Ring…
It didn't even finish the second ring.
"PEARL!" Aria's voice exploded through the speaker. "Please tell me you're not dead! Or worse, locked in a dungeon in that billionaire's mansion!"
Pearl laughed, despite the whirlwind inside her chest. "Relax, I'm alive."
"Oh thank God," Aria exhaled. "I've been chewing on my nails like a damn goat. What happened? Is he as hot in person? Did he yell at you? Did you slap him? Did he slap you? Wait—don't tell me. I want all the details in order."
Pearl took a deep breath. "He asked me to be his fiancee."
Silence.
"…Come again?"
"A fake one," Pearl added quickly.
Another second of silence. And then—
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Aria screamed so loudly Pearl yanked the phone away from her ear.
"Oh my God, Aria!"
"You're telling me that Richard freaking Harrison, billionaire, face carved by angels, asked you to be his fiancee?! Pearl, do you understand the gravity of this situation?!
Pearl groaned. "It's not like that. It's just a contract thing to cover up the scandal. He said it'll be temporary and he'll take care of everything."
"That man could've asked me to sell my soul and I'd say 'where do I sign?' And you? You get to fake date him? Bestie, do you know how hot you looked in that dress I picked? I knew it! You're welcome!"
Pearl couldn't stop herself from smiling. "Aria…"
"No, no, listen to me," Aria cut in. "This is fate. Destiny. A cosmic joke and you're the punchline, baby! I am LIVING for this. Are you freaking out? Wait—you're totally freaking out. Your voice is doing that shaky thing."
"I am freaking out, Aria," Pearl admitted. "This is huge. It doesn't feel real."
Aria softened instantly. "Hey, hey… I got you, alright? I'm just being insane because I'm excited. But seriously, are you okay?"
Pearl paused. Her gaze wandered out the window as the driver navigated the smooth road. "I don't know. Part of me is terrified. What if I screw this up? What if this ruins everything?"
"And what if it doesn't?" Aria replied. "What if this turns out to be the craziest, most beautiful mistake of your life?"
Pearl blinked, her chest tightening.
Aria continued, "Just promise me one thing. If you ever feel overwhelmed, if he ever makes you feel small, or like you don't matter, call me. I will personally come to his mansion and slap some sense into his perfect cheekbones."
Pearl laughed, a small tear sliding down her cheek. "Deal."
"I'm proud of you, Pearl," Aria said softly. "You've got this."
Pearl clutched the phone tightly. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."
"Anytime, fiancee of the century."