"Five minutes, Mr. Alexander. For this five-minute delay, I will make sure you don't feel cheated in the slightest."
Aurelia James's voice sounded loud and full of sass, echoing inside the silent 5001 Suite of The Volkov Tower. She had just stepped in. The double doors behind her closed with a chilling, permanent 'click.' Aura stood on the thick, luxurious Persian carpet.
Before her, Alexander Volkov, the epitome of cold, commanding handsomeness, radiated an aura of absolute superiority. Alexander wore a dark silk shirt, and the expensive cologne he wore was stifling to Aura.
Okay, Aura. This is it. The show begins. Show this killer whale that you are a little shark ready to steal.
"I am not interested in time compensation, Miss James," Alexander replied, his voice deep, flat, and authoritative. He showed absolutely no interest in Aura's dress or her beauty.
Aura offered a flat, yet deliberately loud laugh, trying to sound provocative, not scared. "Fine, let's get straight to the point. I hate small talk. My time is paid by the hour, and my 48 hours are nearly up. Just tell me, what style do you want tonight? I can adjust. Do you prefer dominance? Or perhaps you prefer a submissive doll who will praise all your assets?"
Aura took a step forward, her left hand deliberately reaching for the collar of Alexander's shirt. She tried to seize control of the frigid silence. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs. Hold steady, don't show your fear.
"Honestly, Mr. Alexander," Aura continued, trying to keep her focus on the transaction. "The sooner we conclude negotiations, the sooner I can get the money. And the sooner you can enjoy my 'services.' Please, don't make this more awkward than it has to be."
Alexander didn't swiftly brush Aura's hand away. He simply allowed her to graze his collar for a moment, then his eyes caught hers, freezing Aura's courage in its tracks. The power in his gaze seemed to extinguish every false spark of confidence Aura had brought in.
"Your cheap services?" Alex repeated, his voice cold and sharp. "Quite intriguing, Miss James. But I do not value 'services' built on such transparent desperation." He then stepped back, shrugging off Aura's touch as if it were dust. He walked to the white leather sofa and sat with perfect posture.
"You don't need to bother explaining your financial status," Alexander stated, interrupting Aura before she could defend herself. "I know everything. My assistant has provided me with an in-depth report. The $2 million debt your Father, Karl James, left behind. The debt collectors' threat that gave you 48 hours. I know you sold your laptop today. And I know," Alex leaned in slightly, his voice a horrifying whisper, "you cried for three minutes on your apartment floor before you decided to put on that too-tight dress."
Aura felt all the air in her lungs being sucked out. She wasn't rambling, yet Alexander knew the most painful and private details from an unforgiving investigation. She felt utterly naked and exposed.
"Then what is all this for, Mr. Volkov?" Aura tried to steady her breathing. "If you know I am broke and completely desperate, why don't you just demand the services you want? Do you just want to torture me with your knowledge?"
Alexander shook his head slowly, displaying absolute boredom. He reached for a black leather folder on the glass table, next to a gold pen.
"I am not interested in your cheap services. My needs are far more urgent, and far more permanent. I am looking for a wife."
Aura laughed hollowly. "A wife? Me? Mr. Alexander, you could have models, or daughters of royalty. Why me? A... designer about to be evicted from her apartment?"
My God, I need to be careful with my words. I'm here for the money, not to get a psychological diagnosis from this handsome man.
Alexander sighed deeply. "Models have egos. Diplomat daughters have legal demands. They have families who interfere with business and demand complicated pre-nuptial agreements. They cause trouble."
Alexander leaned back against the sofa, his eyes emitting a cold calculation. "My grandfather stipulated that I must be married and recognized as a 'responsible adult' to claim the full inheritance of the Blackwood Group. That inheritance is worth billions of dollars," Alexander explained, as if it were a trivial matter. "I need a formality, a legality, and a wife who won't cause problems, whom I can discard after our one-year divorce. Someone like you."
Alexander opened the folder, revealing a thick document titled "Marriage and Confidentiality Agreement."
"I am offering $2 million dollars," he said. Aura's heart stopped. The perfect number. "Not for one night. But for one year of marriage. You will become Mrs. Alexander Volkov in front of the public and my family. That $2 million is your payment."
Alexander looked up, his eyes condescending.
"Two million dollars," Alex repeated, his voice flat, as if naming the price of chewing gum. "That is an amount I can spend just to buy a rare watch at auction. It is the amount that can pay off your entire life and your mother's. And I will give it to you. Because you are my best asset: you are desperate, you have no one, and you are easily controllable."
Aura felt heat rush to her cheeks. The humiliation felt more painful than Marco's physical threats. $2 million. The amount that destroyed her life was now belittled as the "price of a watch" by this man. She wanted to rip off the dress she was wearing.
Fine. If I am cheap, I will be your most valuable asset. I will take the money and save Mother. My dignity can be fixed later, but my mother cannot.
"You are a professional, Mr. Volkov," Aura said, trying to sound flat despite her voice trembling. "But I will make you regret underestimating your asset."
Alexander offered a thin smirk, as if welcoming Aura's challenge. He picked up the gold pen and pressed it against the document.
"The terms are simple, yet absolute," he stated, his tone shifting into a harsh warning. "You move into the mansion tonight. You are not allowed to reveal this contract to anyone, especially my family."
Alexander flipped the page, pointing to a clause, his gaze piercing Aura.
"And most importantly," Alexander continued, his voice now filled with terrible intensity, "you are not allowed to interfere with my personal affairs. I have someone, Chloe Harris. She is... the boundary you must not cross. You must not question her presence, and you must not disrupt my relationship with her. Is that clear?"
Aura stared at the name Chloe Harris in the document. A name so important to Alexander that it had to be protected by this marriage contract.
"Who is she?" Aura asked, curiosity laced with a sudden, stinging jealousy.
"She is the woman I love. And you, Aurelia James, are merely my wife on paper. An expensive formality," Alexander's words were delivered without emotion, hitting Aura like a fist.
Alexander pushed the pen toward Aura's hand. The pen was cold and heavy, a symbol of power and desperation.
"Your 48 hours are up, Miss James. I don't have time to wait. Sign it, and you gain financial freedom, a new life for your mother. Refuse, and you will meet those debt collectors again tomorrow morning with worse consequences. Your decision."
Aura stared at the document before her, then at Alexander's cold face. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She had to choose Mother.
She opened her eyes. There was only one choice. She took the gold pen. The hand that had been trembling now signed her name firmly: Aurelia James. She had sold herself for $2 million and one year of heartbreak.