Mr. Caldera's Fake Girlfriend

A V

to prepare duck à l'orange. Fancy name, complex flavors, and, acco

amelized orange sauce wafts through the room, blending with the savory aroma of roasted duck. It's into

tare. I d

chen lights, perfectly golden, with a glossy orange glaze pooling artfully around it

late, and turn to make my way to th

h

o me. My plate wobbles in my h

ece shatters, sauce and d

aring at the carnage. The sweet tang

chest like the world's worst actress. "I'

i

ce myself to breathe. She's staring at me with faux i

e cuts through the tension. "Be mo

starts, but Madam Vivian

sorry this happened. You can redo the dish at

er lump of frustration rising in m

fuming. I'm stuffing my notebook into my bag when the door

, his polished shoes clicking against the tiled floor.

. Sera," he says in

-wha

eyebrows raised. "Sera, it

gued. The man nods and says, "Mr.

flips. Lu

, and can't resist glancing at Amara. Her f

why don't you tag along?

suspicious shadow. As we step outside, murmurs ripple through the

en I s

ing by his sleek black car. He's dressed impeccably as always, but what

that had me asking to kiss him last night. My heart skips a beat as he walks toward me

nd us. Phones f

ing Am

kly. My voice drips with nonchalanc

aze flicking to Amara briefly bef

only he can hear. "Can you put your arm

ound vibrating through me

t make me

es his arm around my waist, pulling me

d a lemon. Her eyes dart between me and Lucian, her

saccharine sweet, "I expect y

w but says nothing, his

te nod. "Goodbye, Madam Vi

and the crowd in stunned silence. He opens the back door fo

he seat beside me, glancing at

the man from earl

story," I rep

time all day, I

ouquet in my lap. The flowers are stunning-vibrant and fragrant, a kaleido

at the petals before I blurt ou

ly, his face as composed as ever.

ords still send a strange

in time. This isn't real, Sera. He's no

n the road. "There's a gala next week," he says casually yet purposefu

es mid-beat. "

es

r that kind of thing. Mee

pts, waving a hand dismissiv

.. I don't know, billionaire rules? Some etiquette lessons I need to take? Like, 'how to hold champagne

is expression unreadabl

onaire rules," I say

lly think tha

f-conscious. Why does he have to st

e he's suppressing a smile. "And how exactl

eze.

sharpen

ng like a fish on dry land. "I just mad

m is palpable, but he

ents today?" he asks sudd

N

t, looking far too pleased with himse

orate. Against all common sense, I say nothing. Why? Because appar

ke it stepped out of a luxury lifestyle magazine. It's massive, with sl

y drops. "Yo

ng out of the car. "This

've hit th

his long strides as he heads toward the villa. "

ark eyes are sharp, cutting right through me

nod. "Yes. Pretense

he shakes his head, muttering somet

hat are my privileges as your girlfriend? Do

tters, striding ahead

er him, sti

ppears out of nowhere, bowing slightly a

sitantly. "Thank you," I say politely to the

y surface gleaming with quiet luxury. Four ma

one of them, and she immediat

ctantly, but he waves a hand. "Y

allowing hard. Me and him in

nd vanish, leaving an almost op

fidgeting slightl

nreadable expression on

sts nervously. This man is a puz

k leather-bound book, her mo

ts efficient and silent. She places it on the polished coffee

, leaving me and Lucian alone in th

s to the s

sink into the plush cushions, watching as he shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over a chair. T

son. Focus, Sera. He's about to

ommands, motion

otographs, timelines, and text that screams rich people history. My brows knit t

udent, "is the history of my family. If you're going to pass as my girlfriend, you need to kn

training than pretend-girlfriend training. I thought I just

"You're not here to jo

or your wife!" I argue, cl

ze lava. I lower my eyes,

am I supposed to say if

et while I was on a bu

. "But I've neve

me entirely as he plows f

esitation, then add cheekily,

head, muttering somet

sk, genuine

ained. "But drinking as a hobby? Do you w

"Wow, thanks for t

my back, you have to be perfect," he

Uh... nothin

narrow. "

job two m

face is almost comical. "What

... company," I say vagu

ind of

"A... low-

like a frustrated teacher dealing

hem I'm a chef?"

nsidering it. "Do y

and walk up to him, stopping just inches from his face. "You

nd pushes me back gently but firmly. "Is that why

holding his gaze. "And if it

but I press on, st

parents, not entirely. It's about your reputation. Having someone like me on your arm makes you lo

n't speak, his dark e

ound and escorts women, or as a respectable man in a committed rela

ly bristling. "Building a resta

ds up dramatically. "You

expression darkening.

behavior, Lucian. Haven't you seen any movies? Billi

out a word, he picks up the book from

real life, Sera. Not some ri

the edge of the book

t I swear I catch the faintest twi

ievements, acquisitions, and carefully staged family portraits. They've really done it all-built empires, hobnobbed

nose like they belong there. His brows are furrowed, his fingers flying over the keyboa

posed to be the bad boy en

like a golden retriever. A beautiful, expensive

ucian says without looking

stomach flips. "Wait.

r addressing a particularly dimwitted student. "The least I should

o ask what else he knows. Instead, I murmur, "

n life feels like it's in a tailspin. A day ago, I was a broke woman in a dingy ap

tugging at my lips.

oat. The sound snaps

hud, uncrossing my legs. "I'

unimpressed. "Good

flips again, but th

ing his laptop. "First, what yea

. "Uh..

s into a thin

nough,"

my grandfather's cha

. Caldera...

ens. "The Caldera G

, fine. What's

aldera family pr

ort what? I rack my brain, but all I come u

his pockets. His entire demeanor shif

one sharp but not unkind.

aighter. "I'

nd for three months-to the press, my family, and some busines

rain short-circuitin

linch. His expression is a

ce him. My heart is racing now, disbelief cours

plet

rocess. "You'd really do th

y. "If you hold up you

posure. "Draft a contract, then

n the day. But know this-after three months, we brea

hand toward

is grip firm a

've just sold my soul to the devil. A devil with imp

t