The boardroom fell silent as I stepped inside, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor. Twelve pairs of eyes locked onto me, but I only cared about one. Xavier Astor, CEO and majority shareholder of Astor Industries, sat at the head of the table, his steely gaze fixed on the documents before him.
I straightened my spine, clutching my tablet closer to my chest. "The quarterly reports, Mr. Astor," I said, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my stomach.
Xavier looked up, his piercing blue eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before he nodded curtly. "Thank you, Miss Thorne."
As I distributed the reports, I could feel the tension in the room. Whispers and furtive glances followed me around the table. I knew why. The company was in trouble, and today's meeting would determine its fate.
I took my seat at the far end of the table, directly opposite Xavier. From here, I could observe everything without drawing attention to myself. It was a skill I'd perfected in my years as Xavier's personal assistant.
"Gentlemen," Xavier's deep voice cut through the murmurs, "let's begin."
For the next hour, I watched as Xavier masterfully navigated the choppy waters of corporate politics. He addressed concerns, deflected accusations, and presented solutions with the confidence of a man who always held the winning hand.
But I knew better.
Behind his impeccable poker face, I could see the slight tightening around his eyes, the almost imperceptible clench of his jaw. Xavier was worried, and that terrified me more than any spreadsheet or profit margin ever could.
"And what about the Thompson scandal?" Harold Greaves, one of the board members, suddenly asked. "The press is having a field day with it. Our stock has plummeted 15% in the last week alone."
The room grew quiet. The Thompson scandal was the elephant in the room, the very reason we were all here today. I held my breath, waiting for Xavier's response.
He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "The Thompson situation is being handled," he said coolly.
"Handled?" Greaves scoffed. "Xavier, with all due respect, this isn't something you can just sweep under the rug. Your reputation—"
"My reputation," Xavier cut in, his voice sharp, "is not the issue here, Harold. The company's future is."
I watched as Xavier stood, buttoning his jacket with practiced ease. He walked around the table, his presence commanding everyone's attention.
"Gentlemen, I understand your concerns. The Thompson scandal has indeed caused some... inconveniences. But I assure you, I have a solution that will not only resolve this issue but also secure the future of Astor Industries."
The room held its collective breath. Even I found myself leaning forward, curious about what Xavier had up his sleeve.
"A marriage," he announced.
For a moment, I thought I had misheard. Marriage? What did that have to do with anything?
"I beg your pardon?" Greaves voiced what everyone was thinking.
Xavier's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's simple, really. The public loves a good romance. A wedding will shift the narrative, give the press something positive to focus on. It will humanize me, and by extension, the company."
The board members exchanged glances, a mix of skepticism and intrigue on their faces.
"And who, may I ask, is the lucky bride-to-be?" Greaves asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Xavier's gaze swept the room, and for a heart-stopping moment, I thought he looked directly at me. But that was impossible. I was nobody, just his assistant.
"That," Xavier said, "is yet to be determined. But rest assured, by this time next week, I will be an engaged man."
The room erupted into chatter. I sat there, stunned, trying to process what I had just heard. Xavier Astor, getting married? It seemed absurd.
As the meeting adjourned, I gathered my things, my mind still reeling from Xavier's announcement. I was so distracted that I didn't notice him approach until he was right beside me.
"Miss Thorne," his voice startled me, "a word in my office, please."
I nodded, following him out of the boardroom and down the hallway to his corner office. The view of the city skyline was breathtaking, but I barely noticed it as I took a seat across from Xavier's desk.
He remained standing, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows. "What did you think of the meeting?" he asked, his back to me.
"It was... unexpected," I admitted.
He turned, a wry smile on his face. "Indeed it was." He walked over to his desk, leaning against it. "Amelia, you've been my assistant for five years now. You know this company inside and out. You know me."
I nodded, unsure where this was going.
"Which is why I need your help," he continued. "This marriage... it needs to be convincing. It needs to be with someone who understands the stakes, someone who can play the part flawlessly."
My heart began to race. Surely, he couldn't mean...
"Amelia," Xavier said, his blue eyes locking with mine, "I want you to marry me."
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. I gripped the arms of my chair, certain I had misheard him. "I... what?"
"It's the perfect solution," he continued, as if he were discussing a business merger rather than a marriage. "You know the company, you know our routines. It would be a seamless transition."
"Mr. Astor," I started, my voice shaky, "I don't think—"
"It would be a contract, of course," he interrupted. "One year, maybe two. Enough time to weather this storm and rebuild our image. You'd be compensated, naturally. Quite generously, I might add."
My mind was spinning. This couldn't be happening. "But... why me?"
Xavier's expression softened slightly. "Because I trust you, Amelia. And right now, trust is a commodity I'm in short supply of."
I stood up, needing to put some distance between us. This was insane. Me, marry Xavier Astor? The man I'd been secretly in love with for years? The man who had never seen me as anything more than his efficient assistant?
"I... I need time to think," I managed to say.
Xavier nodded. "Of course. But I'm afraid time is a luxury we don't have much of. I need your answer by tomorrow morning."
Tomorrow morning. Less than 24 hours to decide whether to enter a sham marriage with the man I loved, who saw me as nothing more than a convenient solution to his problems.
I turned to leave, my hand on the doorknob when Xavier spoke again.
"Amelia," his voice was softer now, almost vulnerable. I looked back at him. "I know I'm asking a lot. But I wouldn't if I had any other choice. You're the only one I can trust with this."
Our eyes met, and for a moment, I saw something in his gaze I'd never seen before. Uncertainty? Fear? Whatever it was, it made my heart ache.
I nodded once and left his office, closing the door behind me. As I walked to my desk on shaky legs, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
Marry Xavier Astor. Become Mrs. Astor, if only in name.
It was everything I had ever dreamed of and everything I had ever feared, all wrapped up in one impossible package.
As I sank into my chair, my eyes fell on a framed photo on my desk. My mother smiled back at me, her face thin and pale from her illness. The illness that had drained my savings and left me drowning in medical bills.
Suddenly, Xavier's offer took on a new light. The generous compensation he mentioned... it could be the solution to all my problems.
But at what cost?
I picked up my phone, my finger hovering over my mother's number. I needed to talk to her, to hear her voice and her wisdom.
Just as I was about to dial, a notification popped up on my screen. An email from an unknown sender. Frowning, I opened it.
The blood drained from my face as I read the single line of text:
"Say yes, and you'll regret it for the rest of your life."
