Chapter 4: The Paper Marriage 

The room was sterile, without feeling or warmth. Her hands were clasped in her lap as Celeste sat at the shiny mahogany table. Her husband-to-be signed the marriage contract in front of her with the same detachment that he would sign off on a business deal. The lawyer, a grim-faced man in his fifties, placed the document on the table in front of her. 

"Sign here, Ms. Monroe," he directed, tapping the line at the bottom of the page. 

Celeste hesitated, her pen hovering over the paper. This wasn't what she had fantasized about her wedding day—no vows, no rings, no celebration. Just a cold, impersonal transaction. She glanced at Elliot, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were fixed on his phone, as if this whole experience was below him. 

She signed her name, the ink bleeding into the paper like a raw wound. The lawyer collected the documents, his expression unreadable. "Congratulations," he said flatly. "You're officially married."

Celeste felt a pang of nausea. She had just sold her soul to a man who didn't even care enough to look at her. 

The Billionaire's Rules 

The moment the lawyer and the witnesses had left, Elliot stood in front of her, his expression as icy as ever. "Now that the formalities are out of the way, let's establish the ground rules."

Celeste crossed her arms, her brusqueness surging forward. "Rules? I thought we were partners."

Elliot waved aside her comment, his tone short. "First, you will go with me to public events as my wife. Your behavior will reflect only well on me and the company. Second, you will be moving into my penthouse tonight. I will summon you as and when I require you. Third, you will not meddle in my private life. Clear?" 

Celeste clenched her jaw, her fingernails digging into her palms. She wanted to protest, to demand respect, but she knew it would be pointless. Elliot was not the kind of man who tolerated disobedience. 

"Crystal clear," she bit out, gritting her teeth.

Elliot nodded, obviously satisfied. "Good. I'll have my secretary send you the details of your new schedule. Get ready by this evening." 

He turned and walked away from the room, and Celeste was left to brood. She was a captive, a bird in a golden cage. But she was not going to let him dominate her. Not completely. 

The Press Storm 

The news was out in hours. By the time Celeste arrived at Elliot's penthouse, her phone was ringing constantly with notifications. She let it ring at first, but curiosity got the better of her. She opened a news app, her stomach twisting as she scanned the headlines: 

"Billionaire Elliot Sloane Finally Tied Down—But Who is His Mystery Bride?"

"Scandal-Ridden Designer Snags a Billionaire—Is This a Business Deal?" 

The entries were followed by photographs of her and Elliot leaving the lawyer's office, her face drawn and white, his face expressionless. The comments area was a cesspool of speculation and bile. 

"She's a gold digger. Typical."

"Elliot Sloane? Married? This has to be a publicity stunt."

"Didn't she appropriate designs from someone? Why on earth would he marry her?" 

Celeste's hands trembled as she scrolled through the comments. The hate was overwhelming, a wave of judgment and ridicule. She felt exposed, as if everyone in the world was laughing at her. 

Elliot walked into the room, his presence as foreboding as ever. He glanced at her phone; his expression inscrutable. "I see you've discovered the press." 

Celeste looked up at him, her eyes blazing. "Did you know this would occur?"

"Of course," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "It's going to happen. The media thrive on scandal. You'll get used to it."

"Get used to?" she echoed; her voice amazed. "Do you realize what this does to me?"

Elliot's gaze grew icy. "This is part of the bargain, Celeste. If you can't stand it, you shouldn't have agreed." 

She wanted to scream, to throw something, to get him to see how much this was hurting her. But she didn't. She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She would not let him see her break. 

As Celeste walked away, Elliot watched her with a piercing gaze, his expression inscrutable. He was pushing her, testing her to see how far she would bend before she broke. But what he didn't realize was that Celeste was not as fragile as she seemed. Beneath the façade of weakness was a strength he hadn't anticipated. 

And as the hurricane of public opinion raged on, neither of them had a clue that this was just the beginning. There was a far greater war coming, one that would make them have to confront the reality of their pact—and to each other.