Scandal and Seduction

Elena's POV

That was the last question I'd ever expected to hear from him.

For a moment, I just stared at Andrew like he had grown two heads. My mouth parted, but no words came out. No. He couldn't have just asked me that. But his expression was too steady and way too serious for it to be a joke.

I gave myself a discreet pinch under the table, praying this was some bizarre dream. The sting shot through my skin which meant I was very much awake.

"Marry you?" My voice cracked like I hadn't heard him right.

"Be my wife for one year," he clarified, his tone flat and businesslike. "No emotions, no obsession. In return, I'll pay you ten million dollars. After that, you will disappear. You will walk away and never show your face again."

He leaned back slightly as he spoke, but his eyes never left mine. They were piercing and cold, as if he were watching every flicker of doubt cross my face.

Ten million. The figure alone hit me like a punch to the chest. My breath stilled in my throat. That was definitely a huge amount of money no one could easily turn down. It was enough to change everything for me. My entire life.

But to be his wife? Even if only for a year? An ordinary secretary like me, standing beside Andrew Blake, one of LA's most powerful, most eligible bachelors? It sounded absurd. Almost laughable.

He slid the folder across the polished desk. The motion was smooth and calculated, like he'd done this a thousand times.

"Read it. If you've made up your mind, sign."

My hands trembled slightly as I picked up the folder. The weight of it felt heavier than paper should. When I flipped it open, neat black letters spelled out the terms of a marriage contract. His signature was already boldly stamped at the bottom.

The rules were clear. One year as his wife. No emotional involvement. No interference in his personal or business affairs. Fulfill the role of a wife both in public and in private. No children. The contract must remain secret. Any violation would be met with punishment.

I swallowed hard. He didn't elaborate on what kind of punishment, but there was no need for me to be scared. The rules were too easy.

I closed the folder halfway, staring down at it as questions spun in my head. Why me? He had a string of beautiful women, heiresses, models-women who fit his world effortlessly. Why choose me, his plain secretary, the girl who fetched his coffee and filed his papers?

And what if I said no? Will I still have a job tomorrow? Getting this position had taken everything I had. Could I really throw it all away?

"This is your chance," a voice whispered in my head. Last night's memory flashed before me. His touch, the way he'd looked at me for once like I wasn't invisible. This wasn't just about the money. It was a chance to stay close to him. To be in his world, even if it was temporary.

I lifted my eyes and met his gaze. He was watching me closely, waiting, his expression unreadable but his posture radiating control.

"Well?" he pressed, leaning back with arms crossed. His gaze pinned me in place, as if daring me to refuse.

My pulse hammered against my ribs. I exhaled shakily, reaching for the pen, and before I could second guess, I signed. When I lifted my head again, his lips curved into a slow, smug smirk.

I closed the folder and slid it back across the desk, but he pushed it toward me again.

"Keep it," he said. "So that when you feel like running away, you'll remember exactly what you signed."

Running away? I almost laughed. Did he really think I'd walk away from this? Ten million and him? "I won't, sir," I said firmly.

He chuckled low, like he didn't believe a word of it. Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping into a husky whisper. "Are you sure you're ready to be my wife?"

Heat pricked my cheeks. I nodded. Of course I was ready. I'd prayed and wished to be seen by him not just as a secretary. Even if it was all fake, even if I wasn't supposed to fall for him, how could I throw away the only chance I might ever get to stand beside him?

He rose to his feet, towering above me with casual dominance. One hand slid into his pocket. The other gestured toward the door.

"Shall we?"

I nodded, forcing my shaky legs to stand. We walked together toward the elevator. Neither of us spoke, but the silence was thick, charged.

When we reached the door to our room, he paused. "Sleep well. Tomorrow, we will sign the marriage certificate and fly back to LA."

"Yes, sir," I whispered automatically, reaching for the handle of my door.

His voice stopped me again. "It's Andrew in public. Save the 'sir' for when we're alone."

A shiver rolled down my spine. I nodded. "Okay... Andrew."

He gave a small nod of approval before walking into his own room. I watched him disappear and a part of me wished he would stay with me. Last night was unforgettable. The way his touch had made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. I wanted more and I knew it was bound to happen again, maybe not tonight, but soon

Inside my room, I leaned against the door, pressing a palm over my racing heart.

"You just signed a contract with your boss," I whispered to myself, half in disbelief. "You're going to be his wife for a year."

Excitement bubbled in my chest at the thought. I hadn't accepted not just because of the money, though it was life-changing. I accepted also because this was my chance to be near him, to see if there was more behind that cold exterior.

I thought of Hannah. She would lose her mind if I told her. But this contract was too fragile, too dangerous to share. Not even she could know.

I walked to the bathroom, stripping off my clothes on the way and letting them fall in a messy trail. My instincts told me he'd still come in, just like he did yesterday, so I left the door unlocked.

Steam filled the bathroom as the warm spray of the shower wrapped around me, easing my nerves. Warm water poured down my body, soaking my hair and easing my nerves.

I rubbed soap over my skin, rinsed it off, and tilted my head back, letting the water flow down my face.

For a few precious minutes, it was just me, the water, and the rush of my own heartbeat.

Then, there was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

I froze.

A smirk tugged at my lips as I wiped the water from my eyes and slid the glass door open.

And there he was standing at the doorway. His broad shoulders were framed by the light behind him and his eyes burned with the same hunger I'd seen the night before.

Just like I had predicted, he couldn't stay away. Not for too long.