— “Everything.” Julian began to pace the room, filling the space. “You see, Eleanor, I have a problem. My grandfather’s trust, which controls the majority of Sterling Dynamics shares, has one condition: I must be married by my thirty-third birthday to gain full control. That birthday is in three weeks.”
— “Sounds like a rich man’s problem,” Eleanor remarked dryly.
— “It is. But if I don’t marry, the board can oust me. They pushed for Isabella because her father is a powerful ally. Но I can’t marry Isabella. She’s toxic.”
— “I could have told you that.”
— “Yes.”
Julian stopped and looked at her.
— “I made a joke tonight, Eleanor. I said, ‘Sing, and I’ll marry you.’ You sang. You fulfilled the condition.”
Eleanor laughed. It was a harsh, disbelieving sound.
— “You’re crazy. You can’t be serious.”
— “I’m a businessman, Eleanor. I deal in contracts.” He stepped closer. “I need a wife. A smart, composed wife who, frankly, has as much reason to hate the Thornes as I do right now. I need someone who can play the part of Mrs. Sterling for one year. After that, we divorce. I keep the company, you get a settlement.”
— “I’m not a prop,” Eleanor spat. “And I’m not for sale.”
— “Everyone has a price,” Julian countered coldly.
He pulled a checkbook from his inner pocket and uncapped a pen.
— “How much is Leo’s surgery?”
— “The best specialists, the post-op care…” Eleanor trailed off. Her brother’s name hung in the air.
— “I can have him moved to a private wing at the Mayo Clinic by morning,” Julian said, his voice softening. “I can get him the best nephrologist in the country. I can wipe your debt. I can give you your life back.”
Eleanor looked at the checkbook. It was a deal with the devil, she knew it. Julian Sterling was dangerous. He was manipulating her desperation. But then she heard Leo cough in the next room. She remembered three years of struggling.
— “What are the terms?” she whispered.
Julian didn’t smile. This was business.
— “We marry quietly within three days. Then, a public wedding in two weeks. You live in my penthouse. You attend galas and board meetings. You play the part of the woman who swept me off my feet. You make sure Isabella Thorne becomes a distant memory.”
— “And the singing?” Eleanor asked. “Do I have to sing?”
Julian hesitated. He remembered the power of her voice.
— “Only if you want to. But I suspect, Eleanor, that the silence is what’s killing you.”
Eleanor looked at her hands. One year. Ten million dollars at the end of the contract, plus all of her brother’s expenses covered, regardless of what happened to them.
Eleanor took a deep breath. She looked at the man who had humiliated her, then protected her, and was now offering her salvation.
— “A contract,” Eleanor said, her eyes turning hard. “I want it in writing. And I want a separate bedrooms clause. This is a business arrangement, Mr. Sterling. I am not your mistress. I am your employee.”
Julian’s lips twitched. A spark of genuine amusement and respect flashed in his eyes. Isabella would have thrown herself at him. Eleanor was building walls.
— “Agreed,” Julian said. “Arthur is outside with the paperwork. Shall we?”
Eleanor looked at her brother’s bedroom door.
— “I need ten minutes to pack.”
— “Take your time,” Julian said. “Welcome to the family, the future Mrs. Sterling. The show is about to begin.”
Three days later, the courthouse ceremony was quick and impersonal. No cameras, just Arthur as a witness. But the real storm began the following Monday. Eleanor stood in the massive walk-in closet of Julian’s penthouse, staring at the rows of designer clothes delivered that morning. She was no longer wearing a waitress uniform. Now, she wore a tailored navy blazer and white trousers—she looked like a billionaire’s wife.
Julian walked in, adjusting his tie. He froze when he saw her. For a moment, he forgot about the merger, the board, and the lie. She looked stunning.
— “Ready?” he asked.
— “For what?”
— “The press conference,” Julian replied, handing her a pair of sunglasses. “We’re announcing the engagement and the wedding date.”
— “Will Isabella be there?”
— “Everyone will be there,” Julian replied grimly. “And Eleanor, there’s one more thing I forgot to mention.”
Eleanor looked at him sharply.
— “What?”
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