The Fiancée Agreement

I said yes for the bonus. Not for the brooding billionaire.Julian Thorne is the human version of a cold, precise, and allergic to joy.

So when he announces that we’re engaged for corporate optics, I do what any underpaid assistant would do. I choke on my latte and threaten murder.

But then there’s a contract. With a bonus large enough to make me seriously reconsider my morals.

Now I’m playing fiancée to a man who thinks “romantic gesture” means not correcting my grammar in public.

I’m wearing designer dresses, faking tender gazes, and somehow surviving gala rehearsals where he critiques my eye contact like it’s a boardroom presentation.

And the worst part?

He’s getting… weirdly good at pretending. Hand-holding feels natural. His compliments are too specific.

And his smile? Criminally effective.

This was supposed to be fake.

But someone forgot to update the spreadsheet…

Because my feelings? Totally off-script.