PrimRosee

"Block him."

"He's technically still my boss."

"Then block him with dignity."

The call ended again.
And then started again.
I let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a sob, then finally answered with the enthusiasm of a snail crawling through salt. "Yes, Mr. Walton?"

"Have you changed your mind yet?"

I collapsed onto the towel and gazed at the sky as though it might consume me entirely if I pleaded sweetly enough.

"Do you ever take a break?" I asked, shielding my eyes with one hand.

"You're avoiding the question."

"Because it's a dumb question."

He exhaled, the sound sharp and irritated even over phone. "It's not a dumb question. It's a business offer."

"It's a weird offer-one that I already said no to."

There was a brief pause, and I could practically hear him clenching his jaw through the speaker.
"You are acting unreasonably."

" Unreasonable?" I sat up. "I'm not the one drafting fake girlfriend contracts like it's a normal Tuesday."

"Isabella-"

"Certainly not, Mr. Walton." I mimicked his tone perfectly. "I told you I'm not doing it. You need to find someone else to play pretend with."


SYNOPSIS 
Isabella Miller thought saying no to her boss’s fake dating offer was the end of the story.
But Adrien Walton doesn’t take no—especially not when he’s convinced she’s a gold digger.

Suddenly, her student loans are piling up, her father’s vet clinic is on the brink of eviction and her brother is about to be kicked out of college. Coincidence? She thinks not.

Adrien Walton is calm, calculating—and he's just pulled every string to corner Isabella into the perfect position.

Now she’s stuck choosing between pride and survival.
So she agrees to his offer: be his fake girlfriend.
No feelings attached. No drama. Just business.

Or so she thought.

"Conference Room B. Fifteen minutes," he said, passing by without a glance.
The folder he pushed across the table landed with a thud.
I opened it. The contract. All of it.

---

Enemies to lovers? Check.
Slow burn? Hmmnyea.
Banter so sharp it might file your nails? Yes.
Delicious workplace tension? Of course.
Tension that could melt steel?Absolutely.
Smut?? Wanna find out?

Welcome to corporate romance warfare. There’s no escaping this contract.

Fake Date, Real Fate

I drove as fast as I could down the road, my eyes focused on the wet smear of taillights and street lamps in front of me, but I couldn't concentrate on anything but her face.

The way her expression shattered when I said those words.

I held the steering wheel so tight my fingers felt numb.

I knew it wasn't true—not really. Not deep down. But I said it anyway, like I was trying to hurt her. Like I wanted to rip something open.

She looked at me like I wasn't even human.

she just looked… destroyed. Like I'd confirmed her worst fear. Like I'd taken something already fragile and stomped on it with everything I had.

The Storm That Wore My Name