Christina’s POV
"Fake, of course," He replied, but there was sothing in his eyes that didn’t quite match his casual tone. "And arranged mateship for mutual benefit happen more often than you think in our world. We’re just skipping the courtship and going straight to the contract."
I stared at him. "You’re serious."
"Deadly."
"And you just... decided this after one night?"
He smiled aningfully, then shrugged. "You left before I could discuss it properly. I figured you weren’t interested."
"I thought you were joking!"
"I rarely joke about business proposals, Christina."
Wait, I didn’t rember telling him my na. Whatever, it didn’t matter.
"What’s the catch?" I asked.He’d agreed too quickly. I was starting to suspect this was so new type of scam.
"No catch. Just terms." With that, he gestured for to sit on his couch. I perched on the edge, feeling out of place.
He reached into a drawer and pulled out a black notebook. He clicked an expensive-looking pen like soone who regularly drafted contracts before breakfast.
"If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly."
"You already have terms written down?" I asked incredulously.
"I like to be prepared." He flipped open the notebook. "Shall we?"
I dropped onto his sofa, feeling like I’d stepped into so alternate reality where handso Alphas kept contract templates for fake engagents in their drawers.
"First," He began, all business now, "duration. I suggest six months minimum. Less than that looks suspicious."
"Six months?" I repeated, stunned. "I was thinking more like six weeks."
"Your father would never believe you found a mate, fell in love, and broke up that quickly. Not after your four-year engagent to Niall Granger."
He must have investigated . How else would he know about my relationship history? Did have a one-night stand with an Alpha co with a background check now? If anyone should be doing background checks, it should be asking for his STD results.
Beggars can’t be choosers. Though I bristled at the ntion of Niall, I couldn’t argue with his logic.
"Fine. Six months."
"Public appearances.We’ll need to be seen together regularly—pack functions, business events, family gatherings.I assu your calendar is fairly flexible?"
"Um, sure," I managed, still trying to process that this was actually happening.
"Physical boundaries." His eyes t mine, intense and calculating."We’ll need to establish an acceptable intimacy quotient for public settings"
I nearly choked on my water."Intimacy quotient?"
He used the phrase ’intimacy quotient,’ and I had to fight the urge to check if this was all so elaborate prank being livestread on TikTok.
"Hand-holding, casual touching, and kissing in public when necessary to sell the relationship."
My cheeks flushed hot. "Define ’necessary.’"
"When being observed by anyone who matters to our charade. Your family. My family. Pack mbers who might report back to either."
"What about... other things?" I asked vaguely.
"Sex?" he supplied bluntly. "Not required by the agreent, but available for negotiation if mutual interest exists."
I nearly choked. "Let’s keep that off the table for now."
"As you wish." He made a notation in his notebook. "No mating bite, obviously. That’s permanent."
"Obviously," I echoed, feeling increasingly surreal about discussing the intimate details.
"As for living arrangents—"
"Whoa," I held up my hand. "Living arrangents?What about them?"
"We’ll need to at least appear to be living together eventually. Mates typically cohabitate."
Did he seriously just say ’cohabitate’? Is he actually writing up a contract right now?
I hadn’t thought that far ahead. "We could... say we’re taking it slow?"
"For a while, perhaps. But engaged couples usually don’t keep separate places for long."
"We’ll cross that bridge when we co to it," I said firmly.
He suddenly looked up at and said, "Almost forgot, we need to make it legal. A registered mating ceremony with the Elder Council."
I was dizzy from all his terms,"Excuse ?"
"My pack lawyers scrutinize everything.They’d investigate any claid mate thoroughly. It needs to withstand legal examination."
"But a mating ceremony is too formal, wouldn’t we be real mates then?" I protested.
"Well, the ceremony wouldn’t actually take place. It would just be a registration,We’d include dissolution terms from the beginning,"He clarified.
"After our arrangent ends,we can petition the Council for separation.It’s uncommon but not unprecedented."
My heart ran fast. This was escalating from "fake mate" to "actual marriage" at warp speed.
Seeing my hesitation, he added, "Of course, the registration requires us to go in person, so for now we’ll have to..."
Considering how desperate my parents had driven to this point, I reluctantly agreed, "Alright!"
He nodded, and I seed to catch a glimpse of his lips curling upward as he lowered his head, making another note. "Exclusivity during the arrangent?"
"What do you an?"
"I an, are you planning to date others while supposedly engaged to ?" His tone was calm, but sothing in his eyes flashed possessive.
"No! That would defeat the whole purpose."
"Good. Neither am I." He closed the notebook with finality. "I believe those cover the basics. We can and as needed."
My head was spinning. This was happening too fast, too smoothly. Like I’d wished for rain and gotten a flood.
"Why would you agree to all this?" I demanded. "You look wealthy and sowhat charming. You could have any female you wanted. Why tie yourself to for six months?"
"Perhaps I have my reasons," he said, rising to his feet. He moved toward in a way that made my stomach flip. "Perhaps I find the arrangent... appealing."
We were standing close now—too close.
"This is insane," I whispered, more to myself than to him.
"Is it?" His voice was low."Or is it the perfect solution to both our problems?"
I stepped back, needing distance to think clearly. "I need to know what I’m getting into. Full disclosure."
His gaze sharpened, and when he stepped closer, the air in the room thickened with his Alpha presence.
"The better question is,"he said dominantly,"would you rather be here negotiating terms with , or would you prefer to beco Leonard Shaw’s fifth wife?"
The pressure of his Alpha aura rolled over like a tidal wave, making Akira whimper and press low in my mind. My pulse raced as every instinct scread submission. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t look away from those piercing eyes.
He was right. I hated that he was right, but I had no real choice here. Leonard was a disgusting old creep. This man, mysterious as he was, had the kind of power that could actually protect .At least with him, I could carve out so leverage for myself in this bargain.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "Deal."
He extended his hand, and when our palms t, sothing electric passed between us. But he didn’t let go imdiately. Instead, he used our joined hands to pull closer, until I was standing directly in front of him. Close enough to feel his warmth.
"There’s a pack gathering this Friday," he murmured, his thumb brushing across my knuckles. "Perfect timing to announce our engagent."
My heart hamred against my ribs. "Friday? That’s only three days—"
He leaned in just a fraction, close enough that I could feel his breath against my cheek. The gesture was possessive, intimate in a way that made my brain short-circuit.
"Problem?" His free hand ca up to cup my chin, tilting my face up to et his gaze.
Heat rushed to my face as my body responded to his nearness. This was supposed to be fake, professional. But his touch was making forget every rational thought.
"No," I managed, my voice embarrassingly breathless. "That’s... good timing."
He raised an eyebrow with that infuriatingly attractive smirk. "Get used to my sudden proximity, Christina. If you can’t handle simple contact without looking like a deer in headlights, no one will believe we’re actually mated."
The warning was clear beneath the velvet tones.
"And if you can’t sell the role convincingly," he continued, his grip on my chin tightening just slightly, "I won’t hesitate to find soone who can."
The threat hit like ice water, but before I could react, my phone buzzed loudly in my purse.
I fumbled for it with shaking hands, seeing Ysolde’s na on the screen.
My mysterious neighbor, who was now my fake fiancé, finally released and stepped back.
I grabbed my bag and phone. "I have to go."
He nodded lazily, watching leave.
I hurried out of his apartnt.
"Ysolde?" I answered.
"Chrissy," she hissed in my ear,"Where the hell are you? You’ve got serious trouble brewing. Your father’s been making calls—"
I tried to sound normal even though my heart was still pounding.
"I think I already stirred up trouble myself."
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