Chapter 3: Striking a Bargain

Ethan Montgomery had never begged for anything in his life.

But as he stood outside Olivia Reynolds' apartment, his stomach twisted with the knowledge that today, he might have to.

The morning air was crisp, but the tension in his chest made it feel suffocating. He'd spent the last hour pacing his office, trying to convince himself that there had to be another way. That there was anyone else who could play the role of his fiancée. But every scenario had led him right back to the same conclusion.

It had to be Olivia.

No one else would be believable. They had history. Their relationship had been real—until last night, at least. Trying to introduce someone new would only raise suspicion.

Ethan let out a slow breath, clenched his fists at his sides, and knocked.

A long pause.

Then, footsteps.

When the door finally swung open, Olivia stood before him in an oversized sweater, leggings, and fuzzy socks. Her usually sleek chestnut hair was a little messy, as if she had just rolled out of bed, and her face was makeup-free.

For a moment, Ethan felt something deep inside him twist. He had always thought Olivia was beautiful, but there was something about her like this—unfiltered, vulnerable—that made his chest tighten in a way he didn't like.

Then she blinked up at him, and whatever softness he felt vanished.

"Ethan?" Her voice was laced with surprise and… hesitation. "What are you doing here?"

He clenched his jaw. "We need to talk."

Olivia sighed and glanced behind her, as if debating whether or not to slam the door in his face. He wouldn't have blamed her.

Instead, she stepped aside. "Fine. Come in."

He entered, taking in the familiar scent of her apartment—a mix of vanilla candles and fresh coffee. It made something inside him ache.

She crossed her arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Alright. Talk."

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. The words that wouldn't make him sound like a desperate man grasping at straws.

But there was no sugarcoating this.

"I need you to pretend to be my fiancée," he said flatly.

Silence.

Then Olivia let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "I'm sorry, what?"

Ethan exhaled. "It's complicated."

"You think?" She shook her head, disbelief clear in her eyes. "You show up at my door after I just turned down your real proposal and now you want me to pretend to be engaged to you?"

"Yes."

Olivia blinked, as if she had misheard him. "Ethan, are you insane?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Probably. But I don't have a choice."

She scoffed. "There's always a choice."

"Not this time," he countered. "The Donovan Group—our biggest investor—saw the video last night. Now they're questioning my stability and whether they should continue backing my real estate project. If I don't show up to their gala in two weeks with a fiancée, I could lose everything."

Olivia stared at him, processing.

He could practically see her mind working, weighing the insanity of his request against the urgency in his voice.

Finally, she let out a slow breath. "Ethan, I… I don't know what to say. This is crazy."

"I know," he admitted. "But I wouldn't be here if I had any other option."

She gave him a wary look. "And why do you think I would agree to this?"

He hesitated.

This was the part where he had to make it worth her while.

"You said last night that you're not ready for marriage," he said carefully. "That it's too big of a step for you."

Her lips pressed together. "That's not—" She sighed. "Yes. That's true."

"Then let me make you a deal." He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering. "Help me out with this—pretend to be my fiancée for two weeks—and in return, I'll walk away. No more expectations. No more pressure about the future."

Olivia frowned. "You're saying if I do this, you'll… what? Leave me alone?"

A pang of something sharp shot through him at the thought. But he forced himself to nod.

"If that's what you want," he said. "After the gala, we can go our separate ways. No strings attached. You get your freedom. I get to keep my company's biggest deal."

Silence stretched between them.

Ethan watched her closely, noting the way she bit her lip in thought. The Olivia he knew wasn't impulsive—she was cautious, logical. She wouldn't say yes unless there was something in it for her.

And he had just given her an out.

After what felt like an eternity, she let out a slow exhale. "Two weeks?"

"Two weeks."

"You'll never bring up marriage again?"

His chest tightened, but he nodded. "Never."

Olivia stared at him a moment longer, then finally, reluctantly, extended her hand.

"Fine," she said. "You've got yourself a fake fiancée."

Ethan clasped her hand in his, ignoring the way his skin burned at the touch.

"Deal," he murmured.

But as they shook on it, something in the back of his mind whispered that this was a mistake.

Because pretending to be engaged to Olivia for two weeks?

It was going to be hell.

And maybe—just maybe—he wouldn't want to let her go when it was over.