C2 Terms and conditions

The morning light spilled into the penthouse like liquid gold, brushing over sleek marble counters and glass walls. But Ariana wasn’t interested in the view.

She was staring at the contract on the kitchen table—ten pages of legal language and emotional landmines, all delivered by Alexander’s assistant with the same charm as a tax notice.

“You want me to sign this without a lawyer?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as Alexander strolled in, crisp and commanding in another tailored suit.

He didn’t sit. He never sat.

“There’s no time for theatrics. My PR team is already scheduling our first public appearance tonight. I need your signature.”

Ariana leaned back in the velvet chair, arms crossed. “It says here we have to live together, appear in public as a couple, and act ‘reasonably affectionate at all times.’ What does that even mean?”

He moved closer, one hand flat on the table, his eyes cool but unreadable.

“It means if I kiss you in front of cameras, you don’t flinch. If I hold your hand, you don’t pull away. If I call you ‘darling,’ you smile like you mean it.”

Her throat went dry. “So that’s part of the contract? Kissing?”

His gaze dropped—just for a second—to her mouth.

“If the role requires it.”

Ariana stared at the pen beside the document. Signing it meant giving up her personal space, her freedom—and maybe her heart if she wasn’t careful.

But it also meant saving her mother’s life. Saving her business. Saving herself.

She picked up the pen and signed.

8:45 PM – Charity Gala, Manhattan

The gala was everything she expected: glittering chandeliers, champagne waterfalls, and a crowd filled with sharp eyes and sharper tongues.

Ariana stood at Alexander’s side in a midnight-blue dress that hugged her like silk sin, her makeup flawless, her hair cascading down her shoulders. She looked the part.

But her heart thudded like a war drum.

“Smile,” Alexander murmured as they walked into the spotlight. “And remember, you’re madly in love with me.”

She forced a smile, looping her arm through his. “If I’m in love, why aren’t you holding my hand?”

Without missing a beat, he slipped his fingers between hers—firm, warm, possessive.

And just like that, she couldn’t breathe.

They moved through the crowd like royalty, exchanging polite nods and fake laughter. But the questions came quickly.

“When did you two meet?”

“How did the proposal happen?”

“Will there be a winter wedding?”

Ariana answered them all with practiced ease, inventing details as if they’d lived a thousand moments together.

Alexander let her lead—watching her, studying her like she was the most fascinating lie he’d ever told.

And then came the final test.

“Kiss her, Alexander!” someone called from the press pit.

“Let’s see the chemistry!”

Ariana froze, her stomach flipping.

Alexander looked down at her with a cold, unreadable expression.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked quietly.

She nodded before her brain could argue.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t careful.

It was a claim.

His lips crushed hers, firm and controlled, one hand cupping her cheek, the other anchoring her by the waist. She expected cold. Precision. Performance.

But what she got was heat.

Unexpected.

Unforgiving.

His lips moved against hers like he was branding her, like he wanted to remind her—and the entire world—that she belonged to him.

And God help her, she kissed him back.

For a heartbeat, the world melted away. The cameras, the lights, the whispers—gone. All she could feel was his mouth, his touch, the way her body leaned into his like it belonged there.

When he finally pulled back, her breath caught.

His didn’t.

He was calm. Collected. As if nothing had happened.

“Good,” he said under his breath. “They bought it.”

But Ariana wasn’t so sure.

Because a part of her had bought it, too.

Later That Night

Back at the penthouse, she stormed through the doors and tossed her clutch onto the couch.

“You didn’t warn me that kiss was going to feel like a freaking... hostage situation.”

Alexander loosened his tie slowly. “Would you have preferred I whispered sweet nothings and pecked you on the cheek? That wouldn’t have sold it.”

She turned to him, hands on hips. “It wasn’t acting, Alexander. That kiss felt...”

His eyes locked on hers. “Dangerous?”

The word hung between them like thunder.

“You crossed a line.”

He stepped closer, eyes dark. “Then draw it.”

Ariana swallowed hard.

Because deep down, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.