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The CEO's Fake Fiancée: A Dangerous Deal

The CEO's Fake Fiancée: A Dangerous Deal

I stood at my engagement gala in a pale gold dress that felt more like a straightjacket than silk. My fiancé, Camden Benjamin, looked at me with pure coldness, treating me like a prop for his billion-dollar merger. Everything shattered when my cousin Chloe tripped and blamed me for ruining her dress. Camden didn’t ask for my side; he grabbed my arm and screamed for me to apologize before the entire high-society crowd. I didn't apologize. Instead, I hijacked the stage and projected a high-def video of Camden and Chloe’s affair onto the massive LED screens. I dropped my engagement ring into a glass of champagne and walked out, thinking I was finally free. But the nightmare was just beginning. My Uncle Marcus cornered me that night, revealing he had already contacted a doctor to have me committed to a mental asylum so he could seize my inheritance. He stood there dangling my dead mother’s heirloom brooch over a balcony, threatening to destroy the only thing I had left of her. I realized then that the car crash that killed my parents wasn't an accident; it was a hit ordered by the very family I had just humiliated. I was homeless, hunted by paparazzi, and facing a forced lobotomy. I had no money, no allies, and a target on my back. A few nights later, Marcus found me at a restaurant and raised his hand to strike me for my "insubordination." I saw Camden sitting nearby, watching the chaos with those same stormy, calculating eyes. I didn't run. I walked over and looped my arm through Camden's, feeling his muscles tense under my touch. "I wasn't sleeping around, Uncle," I said, looking Marcus straight in the eye. "I was visiting my boyfriend. Tell him, Camden." Camden looked at me, a dangerous, shark-like smile playing on his lips as he squeezed my hand. "Is there a problem with who I choose to date, Harding?" I needed a shield, and he needed a way to dodge his mother’s forced marriage. It was time to make a deal with the devil.
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Chapter 2

Sienna's apartment in Brooklyn was the size of Edlyn's old walk-in closet, but it was the only place that had ever felt like a true sanctuary. She sat on Sienna's lumpy sofa, clutching a mug of lukewarm tea. The signed contract lay on the coffee table, a stark white rectangle that felt like a bomb. "You did what?" Sienna breathed, her eyes wide. She'd been Edlyn's friend since before the world fell apart, the only person who knew the full story. "Edlyn, he's Camden Benjamin. They call him the 'Titan of Wall Street.' He doesn't make deals; he executes takeovers. You just sold yourself." "I bought a weapon," Edlyn whispered, her voice raspy from disuse. It hurt to speak, a physical manifestation of the trauma that had silenced her three years ago. "What weapon?" Edlyn opened her laptop. It was the only thing of value she'd managed to keep. She logged into a secure cloud server, the one she had built after she first grew suspicious of her uncle. Rows of spreadsheets filled the screen. Red numbers. "The gallery's books," she said, her voice gaining a fragile strength. "I've been copying them for a year. She pointed to a column. "Look at this transfer. Three days before my parents' car accident." Sienna squinted. "Two million dollars to... 'Blue Heron Holdings'? In the Caymans?" "It's a shell company," Edlyn said. "My father found out Marcus was siphoning money. He was going to confront him." "And then his brakes failed," Sienna whispered. She looked at Edlyn, horror dawning in her eyes. "Edlyn... you don't think..." "The police said it was black ice," Edlyn said, her voice flat. "It was forty degrees that night." For three years, she'd been trapped. Trapped by grief, by Julian's cloying manipulation that she mistook for kindness, and by the selective mutism that came after the crash. The stress of it all made words feel like swallowing glass. She had the evidence of her uncle's crime, but no power to use it. Suddenly, a warning box popped up on her screen. UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS ATTEMPT DETECTED. "Shit," she hissed, slamming the laptop shut and severing the Wi-Fi connection. "Marcus is trying to wipe my email remotely." "You need a lawyer," Sienna said. "Like, a shark. A killer." "I just bought one," Edlyn said, nodding at the contract. Her phone, which she had kept on silent, buzzed on the cushion beside her. She picked it up. It was a text from Julian. An image loaded. It was her mother's diamond brooch, dangling precariously over his balcony railing, thirty stories up. Come see me tomorrow. Or gravity takes over. Edlyn threw the phone across the room. It bounced off the wall. "He's going to destroy it," she choked out. "It's the only thing I have left of her." She needed leverage. She needed power. And she needed it now. The contract on the table wasn't just a shield anymore. It was a sword. She picked up her phone and dialed the number on the business card Camden's assistant had given her. "This is Edlyn Harding," she said, her voice steadier now, fueled by cold fury. "Tell Mr. Benjamin we have a change of plans. The timeline is moving up. We're going to war tomorrow."

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