My name is Mara Rodriguez, and as of today, I am officially engaged to Adrian Cole.
God help me.
If you'd told me last week that I'd be introducing myself as the fiancée of a billionaire, I would have laughed in your face. Hard. But here I am, standing in my tiny apartment, staring at the diamond engagement ring on my finger, wondering how the hell my life spiraled so fast.
It all started the night my mother collapsed.
The ambulance ride was a blur of sirens and whispered prayers. At the hospital, the doctors stabilized her, but relief was short-lived—because then came the bill. A number so high, I thought I'd misread it.
I tried everything. I checked every account, called in every favor, even begged my boss for an advance. He gave me some bullshit excuse about "company policy" and how they "couldn't afford it." I wanted to scream.
And just when I was running out of options, Adrian showed up.
Again.
Standing there in his impeccably tailored suit, looking like sin wrapped in a business deal. He cleared the bills, and made the same offer—marry him, be his wife for five years, and in return, I'd get eighteen million dollars.
Only this time, I didn't argue.
Because, at the end of the day, I had no choice.
And now?
Now, I'm standing outside my apartment, arms crossed, waiting for him to pick me up. Today, we're meeting his family, and I hate how nervous I am.
Sarah, leaning beside me, sips her iced coffee, completely unfazed. "Relax, Mara. It's not like they're going to eat you alive."
I shoot her a look. "You don't know that."
She smirks. "They're just people. Rich, untouchable, terrifying people, sure. But still people."
I groan, rubbing my temples. "That's really comforting. Thanks."
Sarah nudges me. "Look, just act a little lovesick, flash that cute smile of yours, and bam—future Mrs. Cole."
I glance at the ring on my finger. It still feels wrong. Like it doesn't belong to me.
Sarah must notice my hesitation because her voice softens. "Seriously, Mara. You've got this. Besides, your mom would want you to be strong."
My chest tightens.
Mom left for Mexico yesterday. Two weeks in New York, and she was already restless. Complaining about the cold, the noise, the food. I didn't want her to go, but she insisted. Said she'd be fine with her nurse back home.
I hope she's right.
Before I can dwell on it, a sleek black car pulls up in front of us. Adrian.
He doesn't get out. Doesn't roll down the window. Just honks once and unlocks the door.
I freeze, fingers twitching at my sides.
For a second, I remember Lucas.
Lucas, my ex. Lucas, who never let me open my own door, even when we were fighting. Even when I was mad enough to storm off, he'd still be there, jaw clenched, but holding it open anyway.
I swallow hard.
This is different.
This is not love.
This is a contract. A transaction. I need to always remember that.
I take a deep breath, push the memories away, and open the door myself.
Sliding into the passenger seat, I glance at Sarah. She gives me a wink and a thumbs-up. "Good luck, fiancée."
I roll my eyes, but my stomach twists.
There's no turning back now.
⸻
I stare out the window as Adrian drives, watching the streets blur past. But after a few minutes, something feels off. He is driving through a different route from the location he had sent me the previous day.
I sit up. "Where are we going?"
He doesn't even glance at me. "Trust me."
That's it. Just two words.
A sliver of unease creeps up my spine.
I may not know Adrian well, but I know this—he doesn't do things without a reason.
Minutes later, we pull up in front of a sleek glass building.
I frown. I've never been here before.
I glance at the gold-plated sign.
Adams & Associates.
A law firm.
My stomach knots.
I turn to him. "What's this?"
Adrian unbuckles his seatbelt, completely unfazed. "We're signing the contract."
I blink. "I thought we were meeting your parents first."
His lips twitch in amusement. "Not necessary."
His tone is final. Like this was always the plan, and I was just along for the ride.
I rub my palms against my jeans as we step inside.
The air is crisp with the scent of polished wood and fresh ink. The walls are sleek, glass reflecting back my uncertain expression. The receptionist greets us with a practiced smile, her eyes skimming over me before settling on Adrian, like she already knows I don't belong here.
A sharply dressed man greets us, leading us into a private meeting room.
I barely hear the formalities. My mind is spinning.
Then—out of nowhere—Adrian speaks.
"There's one last thing we need to clarify before the lawyer gets here," he says.
Even though I was scrolling through my phone, trying to mask my nerves, I could feel his gaze on me. And—
"Do you want kids?"
I turn around sharply.
"What?"
He leans back in his chair, expression blank.
"Kids. Do you want them?"
I hesitate, then nod. "Someday, yes."
Adrian exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "Good. Then you can have them after the five years."
I frown. "What?"
"I don't want kids. Not now, not ever. If you got pregnant, it would complicate things. So consider it a deal breaker."
My heart stutters.
"But I always wanted to have kids early," I whisper. "I love babies."
Adrian shrugs, unmoved. "Then the ball's in your court."
I stare at him.
Would I really want a man who sees marriage as a business deal to be the father of my child?
No.
But waiting five years feels unbearable.
I grip my bag tightly, throat dry.
Adrian watches me. Waiting.
I force myself to nod. "Fine."
It's just five years.
I can wait.
Even if every instinct in my body is screaming that I just compromised on something I shouldn't have.