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Faking it with the billionaire  Novel Cover

Faking it with the billionaire

Struggling event planner Isabella Hart accepts a lucrative deal to pose as the fiancée of Alexander Blackwood, a powerful and distant tech billionaire. The arrangement seems straightforward: perform for the public, secure the payment, and regain her financial footing. However, the line between fiction and reality blurs as Alexander’s intense gaze and possessive touch feel increasingly genuine. What began as a cold business contract transforms into a confusing, passionate entanglement.
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Chapter 6

By the time the elevator doors slid open, Izzy had smoothed her dress so many times she was sure she'd worn a crease into the fabric.

She wore exactly what Alex wanted. A navy blue dress paired with black stilettos. She applied minimal makeup and let her hair down in waves. 

She stepped out into the corridor of the Blackwood Foundation's top floor, the soft click of her heels swallowed by the thick carpet. Everything here screamed luxury. It was like a church where power was worshiped instead of God.

Alex was already inside the boardroom when she arrived, seated at the head of the table like he was born for it. His suit was dark, perfectly tailored. No tie, no smile.

He barely looked at her as she walked in.  He just gave a quick nod her way. 

She took the empty seat beside him and tried not to think about the fact that she'd faked her way into this world with nothing more than desperation and a diamond ring.

"Miss Hart. Sorry Mrs Blackwood," said a woman with pearl earrings and an expression that looked like she'd been forced to put on, "Thank you for joining us."

Izzy nodded politely. "Thank you for having me."

It wasn't true. No one in this room wanted her here. Not really. They wanted Lila. And they wanted the illusion that nothing had ever gone wrong.

A man with gray hair and a deep frown spoke next. "Let's get straight to it. The gala is less than six weeks away. The public needs to believe in this engagement, and the foundation can't afford a PR disaster."

"Well," Izzy said lightly, "that makes two of us."

Someone actually snorted. A woman in her thirties with sharp eyeliner and an amused smirk.

Alex turned to Izzy and gave her a look. 

"Izzy will be involved with the gala planning," Alex said. "She's an experienced event coordinator and knows how to work under pressure."

That was... generous. He could've said she's pretending to be my fiancée so I don't implode in front of shareholders, but he didn't.

"She'll be expected to give a speech," the man added.

Izzy blinked. "I wasn't told that."

"You are now."

She felt Alex glance at her again. "Only if you're comfortable."

Her heart raced. "I'll be ready."

The meeting moved on.  They talked about logistics, budgets, and media strategy. The board members tossed around numbers and brand names like they were playing poker with billions, not people.

And then a voice cut through. 

"Apologies for the delay," came a voice from the doorway.

Every head snapped toward the door. 

A woman stepped in like she owned the place: Ice-blonde hair in a sleek knot. She moved with elegance, authority... and something colder underneath.

She took the empty seat directly across from Izzy.

"Vivienne Dane," she said with a gracious nod. "Public relations advisor to the Blackwood Foundation. And Lila's sister."

The room went very still. Izzy kept her face still, but inside, her stomach dropped.

Vivienne didn't need to look at Alex to establish dominance. Her presence alone did that.

"I wanted to meet the woman everyone's talking about," she said, voice smooth and deceptively warm. "You've certainly made an impression."

Izzy smiled tightly. "Well. That's half the job, isn't it?"

Vivienne tilted her head. "It is. But just half."

For the rest of the meeting, the air was filled with tension. Izzy contributed where she could. She took notes. Answered some questions. Mostly, she tried to look like someone who belonged at a table that had never been built for her.

When it ended, everyone stood up, hands were exchanged, and chairs were scraped softly against the floor.

Vivienne didn't move. Neither did Izzy.

Alex was pulled aside by one of the board members near the door, and within seconds, the two women were alone at the table.

Vivienne didn't wait. "I meant what I said last night," she murmured. "This engagement? It's built on borrowed time."

Izzy folded her hands. "You really have a flair for threats."

"I'm not threatening you," Vivienne said softly. "I'm warning you. Because when this falls apart, and it will, it won't be Alex who pays the price."

Izzy met her eyes. "Why do you even care? If this is just business, PR, and optics, why are you fighting so hard to keep me away from him?"

Vivienne's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Because I buried my sister. I watched what loving him did to her. And if you think grief made him fragile, you don't know Alex Blackwood at all."

Izzy stayed silent and Vivienne leaned in closer.

"Leave before he breaks you too."

Then she rose, smoothed her dress, and walked out like she hadn't just dropped a bombshell. 

Izzy sat frozen. She didn't know how long she stared at the empty doorway.

But when Alex returned and slid back into his seat beside her, she didn't meet his eyes.

Instead, she asked, flatly. "How many others came before me?"

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