My Contract Husband Hides His Billions

"A suitable man... one week."

The words echoed in Anika's head, a frantic drumbeat against her skull. She leaned her head back against the cool brick, the rough texture a small, grounding sensation in a world that was rapidly tilting off its axis.

Her mind raced, desperately searching for an escape route. She could block her mother's number, but she'd just show up at the coffee shop or her apartment. She could try to reason with her, but that was like reasoning with a hurricane.

Three blind dates a day. It was a special kind of torture, a death by a thousand polite, judgmental conversations. The thought of another Mr. Price, another man sizing her up like livestock, made her feel physically ill.

Hunter stood by, a silent, steady presence. He didn't offer platitudes or easy advice. His quiet observation was its own form of pressure, a silent question of 'What will you do now?'

Anika's gaze drifted past him to the bustling street. Cars streamed by, their headlights beginning to cut through the deepening twilight. People hurried along the sidewalk, wrapped up in their own lives, oblivious to the crisis unfolding on this small patch of concrete.

She thought of her mother's obsession with wealth, a fixation born of her own struggles. She thought of Kyle, who had chosen a life of ease over a life with her.

A thought, wild and utterly insane, began to take shape in the chaos of her mind. It was a spark of rebellion in the suffocating darkness.

If her mother wanted a rich son-in-law, a powerful man to boast about to her friends... then fine. She would give her one.

A fake one.

The idea sent a jolt through her, a terrifying, exhilarating surge of adrenaline. It was crazy. It was deceptive. It was perfect.

Her head snapped back around, her eyes locking onto Hunter. The despair was gone, replaced by a steely, reckless resolve.

"Hunter," she began, her voice hoarse. "You've been in Seacrest City for a few months. You probably know more than I do."

He watched her, his expression calm, waiting.

She took a shaky breath, the question feeling momentous, like a step off a cliff. "Who is the wealthiest, most powerful man in this city?"

A glint of something unreadable flashed in Hunter's eyes, there and gone so quickly she thought she might have imagined it. The fish was on the line.

He tilted his head, feigning consideration. He let the silence stretch for a moment before he answered.

"That would have to be the head of the Orozco family," he said, his tone casual, as if discussing a local celebrity. "But he's notoriously private. Almost no one has seen him."

He delivered the information flawlessly, planting the name 'Orozco' while simultaneously casting its leader as an untouchable, almost mythical figure. He had walled himself off from suspicion.

Anika let out a short, bitter laugh. "Right. A ghost. Not very helpful for my current situation."

It had been a fleeting, desperate fantasy. She couldn't just conjure a billionaire out of thin air. But the question itself had revealed her hand. It told Hunter exactly where her mind was going.

He saw the path she was on, but he let her walk it herself.

"What are you planning to do, Anika?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "Three blind dates a day sounds like a nightmare."

His sympathy, his understanding, felt like a warm blanket. It solidified the crazy idea in her mind, giving it weight and form.

"I'm going to fight back," she said, her voice gaining strength. "I just need... a partner in crime."

The words were a test, a baited hook cast into the space between them. Her gaze was intense, searching his face for a reaction.

Hunter's plan was unfolding perfectly. He allowed a look of thoughtful curiosity to settle on his features. "A partner in crime?"

She didn't elaborate. Not yet. She was still weighing the risk. She looked at him, really looked at him. He was handsome, calm, and trustworthy. He was her brother's friend. And most importantly, he was just a regular guy, a project manager. No complicated entanglements, no hidden agendas.

He was, in her desperate eyes, the perfect candidate for the job.

The proposal formed on her lips, a reckless, life-altering gamble.