The Billionaire's Cruel Secret Contract Marriage Deal

ent angle of tension. She put on her stiff, wrinkled jeans and the shirt that still had a

because she couldn't afford another Uber. The w

th, trying to summon a persona she didn't possess: a compliant,

n the door. Th

coffee made her stomach cramp with hunge

had said: He'll be wearing

Businessmen in suits.

she s

aring a grey hoodie-close enough to a sweater-and th

ine was sharp enough to cut glass. His hair was dark and slightly messy

was old? Or ju

spine. This was it. The

man didn't look up until she was

le smile. "I'm Imogen. Sorry I'm exactl

n look

ecognition. Those eyes.

car flashed in her mind for a split second before she pushed it away. It couldn't

rt, then back to her bruised cheek. His expression didn't

me, rolling it around in his mouth like

nvited. She needed to sit. Her legs were shaking. "Look, can we just...

e corner of his mouth. He leaned back, crossing his arms ove

ed. "And what am

he gestured vaguely to herself, flushing. "I know I don't look like much right now. I h

f his glasses and set them on the table. Witho

ess arrangement," he stat

nda said you needed someone reliable. I need... stability. I need to get

er instantly, of course. The girl from the rain

e. She thought he was some

f the company she wanted to work for, and that her sketchboo

n her cheek. He saw the desperatio

id softly. "That's a

ressed. "I'm not looking for

inger on the tabl

," he

kay? You mean... y

liste