Christian gazed at me intensely, his eyes full of confidence. Like he already knew the answer. Like he'd calculated every single move in this bizarre game that, somehow, we were both playing.
But before I could respond, there was something I needed to know.
"Why did you leave?" I asked, my voice lower than I intended.
He frowned, clearly confused.
"What?"
"That morning. At the hotel. You…" I swallowed hard, hating the vulnerability bleeding into my words. "You just left. Didn't even say goodbye."
Something flickered in his gaze. Guilt? Regret? Whatever it was, it disappeared so fast I couldn't pin it down.
"I had a meeting," he said, evasive.
"At seven in the morning. On a Saturday?" I arched a brow.
"It wasn't personal, Zoey."
Three simple words. But they hit me like a slap. Not personal. Of course it wasn't. Why would it be? What happened between us was just fun for him, a way to kill time. And I'd been stupid enough to feel something more.
Elise's voice echoed in my head, "You've never had anything special."
Maybe she was right. Maybe I really was just a side character in other people's lives.
"Fine," I muttered, crossing my arms like they could shield me. "Sorry for the stupid question."
Christian ran a hand through his hair, looking momentarily frustrated.
"Look, Zoey, what happened that night…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "It's not relevant to what we're discussing now."
A pang shot through my chest.
"Of course it's not. What matters is that you need a fake fiancée, and I'm the most convenient option."
He studied me for a long moment, his eyes scanning my face like he was searching for something.
"I'd say we're convenient for each other. Your father's debt needs to be taken care of. I need a temporary fiancée. It's a fair deal."
A business deal. That was what he was offering me. Cold. Calculated. Practical.
A knock at the door cut through my thoughts.
"Zoey?" Annabelle's voice came from the other side. "Everything okay in there?"
"Perfect!" I called back, forcing my voice to sound normal. "We're just about done."
Christian raised an eyebrow.
"'Just about done'? Does that mean you're going to accept?"
"I haven't said yes yet."
He glanced at his expensive wristwatch—the kind I'd probably have to work my entire life to afford.
"I need to be in Southridge on Wednesday. The event at the winery starts Thursday and runs through Sunday."
"Your winery?" I couldn't hide the surprise in my voice.
"The family's main estate. In the Highridge Valley."
It was a place I'd only ever seen in glossy magazine spreads. A place someone like me would never set foot in, if not for this bizarre twist of fate.
I drew in a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts.
"I have a job, you know? I can't just disappear for five days."
"I'm sure you can get time off."
"It's not that simple."
He tilted his head, studying me.



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