fake dating · corporate boss · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · romance · contract marriage · suit · possessive · modern setting · strategic
The fluorescent lights of the office hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the cake my friends had just placed before me. Twenty-three candles flickered, their tiny flames dancing in the air conditioning draft. The scent of cheap vanilla frosting mingled with the usual coffee and paper smells. My colleagues' voices rose in a half-hearted birthday song, but all I could hear was the echo of my mother's laughter from years ago, now just a ghost in my memory. I blew out the candles with a silent wish—money, stability, my brother's future. The song faded, and then Aaron's voice cut through like a blade. "you, follow me." I walked to his office, heart hammering, expecting termination. He gestured to the chair, his suit immaculate, face unreadable. "Take a seat," he said, and I obeyed, gr…