hapter 14
Marcus flipped through the file on his desk for the third time.
Background check. Elara Vance. Twenty–eight years old. Born in Brooklyn. No criminal record. No red flags that would
cause problems.
But there were details he hadn’t known.
Her mother. Stage three cancer. Treatment costs exceeding eighty thousand dollars. Hospital bills dating back six months. All unpaid.
Her father. Luca Vance. Gambling addict. Multiple debts with underground casinos. Known associate of Victor Mendez, a loan shark with ties to organized crime.
Her brother. Leo Vance. Twenty years old. Community college student. Clean record.
Marcus stared at the hospital bills. The debt collection notices. The eviction warnings.
So that’s why she said yes.
Not because she wanted to. Not because a million dollars sounded good. Because her mother was dying and she had no other options.
Something uncomfortable twisted in his chest. Guilt, maybe. Or pity. He wasn’t sure which.
He closed the file and leaned back in his chair.
The office door opened without a knock.
Marcus looked up.
His father entered first. Tall. Silver hair. Expensive suit that screamed old money. The kind of man who walked into rooms and expected everyone to stop what they were doing.
Great. My sperm donor is here.
Penelope followed behind him. Blonde hair pulled back so tight it looked painful. Designer dress. Heels that clicked against the marble floor like a countdown.
And the witch came too.
Marcus didn’t stand. Didn’t acknowledge them beyond a slight nod. “Father. Penelope,”
“Marcus” His father stopped in front of the desk. “We need to talk.”
“About?”
“Don’t play stupid. is it true?”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Is what true?”
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“That you’re sleeping with your assistant.” His father’s voice was sharp. Disapproving, “Half the building saw you kissing
her on the street yesterday. Do you want to embarrass this family?”
Marcus kept his expression neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me, boy.”
Boy. Marcus was thirty in eleven weeks, and his father still called him boy.
“Her name is Elara,” Marcus said calmly. “And what I do with my personal life is none of your concern.”
Penelope moved closer, her eyes scanning his desk like she was looking for evidence. “An office romance, Marcus? Really? That’s so beneath you.”
He wanted to tell her to get out. Wanted to remind her that she had no right to walk into his office like she owned it. But he
kept his tone measured. Professional.
“Was there something you needed? Or did you just come here to lecture me?”
His father leaned forward, hands flat on the desk. “You’re making a mistake. Dating your assistant. It’s messy. Unprofessional. The board won’t like it.”
“The board doesn’t get a say in my personal life.”
“They do when it affects the company’s reputation.” His father straightened. “End it. Now. Before this turns into a scandal.”
Marcus stood slowly. Looked his father directly in the eye. “I’d like you and your wife to leave my company.”
“It’s not your company yet.” His father’s smile was cold. “Remember the will? Your birthday is in eleven weeks. Until then, you’re still just the CEO. Not the owner.”
There it was. The real reason for this visit. A reminder that Marcus didn’t actually control anything yet. That everything he’d built could be taken away if he didn’t follow the rules.
The will. His grandfather’s final test.
*Marry before your thirtieth birthday or lose everything.”
Marcus had spent the past decade turning Thorne Dynamics into an empire. Tripled the revenue. Expanded into
international markets. Made the company untouchable.
And all of it could disappear in eleven weeks if he didn’t secure his inheritance.
That’s why he was doing this. Why he’d offered Elara a contract. Why he was about to spend two years pretending to be in
love.
Not because he wanted to. Because he had no choice.
“The will doesn’t change anything,” Marcus said. “I’ll be married before my birthday. You’ll have nothing to worry about.”
His father’s eyes narrowed “Married? To the assistant?”
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“Her name is Elara.”
Penelope laughed. Sharp and cruel. “Oh, this is rich. You’re actually serious.”
Marcus ignored her. Kept his focus on his father.
“You barely know her,” his father said.
“I’ve worked with her for three years.”
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“That’s not the same as knowing someone.” His father crossed his arms. “Your grandfather wanted you to marry for love.
Not convenience.”
Love. The word felt foreign in his father’s mouth. The man who’d replaced Marcus’s mother three weeks after her funeral. Who’d brought Penelope into their home before they’d even buried her properly.
Marcus’s mother had died in a car accident when he was ten. Hit and run. They never caught the driver. His father had mourned for exactly seventeen days before moving on.
Penelope had made Marcus’s life hell from day one. Treated him like an inconvenience. Made sure he knew he’d never be good enough. Never be her son.
And now she stood in his office, questioning his choices like she had any right..
“I loved your mother,” his father said quietly. “But she’s gone. Penelope has been good to me. Good for this family.”
Marcus almost laughed. Good for this family. Right.
“Is there anything else?” Marcus asked. “Or can I get back to work?”
Penelope stepped closer to the desk. Her eyes were sharp. Calculating. “Just be careful, Marcus. Office romances rarely end well. Especially when there’s so much at stake.”
It sounded like a warning. Or maybe a threat.
“Noted,” Marcus said.
His father shook his head. “You’re making a mistake.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
They left without another word. The door closed behind them, and Marcus finally allowed himself to breathe.
Eleven weeks. That’s all he had to pull this off.
He pulled out his phone and called Dante.
“Yeah?” Dante answered on the second ring.
“We need to go public sooner. My father knows.”
“How much does he know?”
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*Just rumors. But he’s watching now.” Marcus ran a hand through his hair. “We need to be seen together. Somewhere public. Before the announcement.”
“Like a date?”
“Exactly like a date.”
Dante was quiet for a moment. “I’ll set something up. Tomorrow night. Somewhere the paparazzi will be.”
“Good.”
Marcus ended the call and stared at his desk.
A date. He needed to take Elara on a date. Make it look real. Sell the story before anyone could question it.
He scrolled through his contacts and found his stylist’s number.
“Marcus, darling. What can I do for you?”
“I need you to send something to an address. Tonight.”
“What kind of something?”
“A dress. Something elegant. Expensive.” He pulled up the address the driver had given him earlier. “I’m texting you the
location now.”
“Ooh, mysterious. Is this for a special occasion?”
“You could say that.”
“Consider it done. I’ll have something sent within the hour.”
Marcus hung up and leaned back in his chair.
The file on Elara sat on his desk. All her secrets laid out in black and white.
Mother dying. Father’s gambling debts. Brother struggling through school.
She’d said yes because she was desperate. Because she had no other choice.
Just like him.
Maybe they were more alike than he’d thought.
His phone buzzed.
**Dante:** *Dinner reservation tomorrow at 8 PM. Le Bernardin. I’ll tip off the photographers.”
Marcus typed back “Perfect.”
Tomorrow night. Their first public appearance as a couple.
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The performance was about to begin.
And Marcus needed to make sure Elara was ready.
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