th exhaustion. The events of the previous night replayed in my mind like a broken record: James's cold, dismissive stare; Samantha's smug smile; the stranger's cryptic words. I turned to the sid

es studying me. "Your confrontation wasn't exactly subtle," he said smoothly. "And let's just say I have an interest in people like James." "People like James?" "Shallow. Greedy. Disloyal," he replied, his voice clipped and cold. "Men who think they can take without consequence. Men who prey on the loyal, the trusting." His words cut deep, though I wasn't sure if they were meant to. "And you're different?" I asked, crossing my arms. He leaned forward, the soft light catching the sharp angles of his face. "I never claim to be a saint, Ms. Pierce. But I do know how to deliver justice where it's deserved." I hesitated, the weight of his gaze unnerving. "What do you want from me?" "It's not about what I want," he said, his tone low and deliberate. "It's about what you need. Freedom. Independence. Revenge." The word hung in the air between us, heavy and intoxicating. "I don't need revenge," I said, though my voice lacked conviction. "Don't you?" he countered, his dark eyes piercing mine. "Your husband humiliated you, betrayed you. He's been siphoning your inheritance with Samantha for a long time, building his empire on your sacrifice. And now, he's cast you aside like you mean nothing." "How do you know all of this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Armando's smirk returned, but this time, it was laced with something darker. "I make it my business to know. James Vale and I have crossed paths before. Let's just say... I have unfinished business with him." The air between us felt thick, suffocating, but I couldn't deny the pull of his words. "What are you proposing?" I asked, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "I need a fiancée," he said simply, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "Someone who can help me secure my position and protect my assets. In exchange, I'll ensure James is held accountable for every wrong he's done to you. And I'll make sure you never have to rely on anyone again." I stared at him, stunned. What kind of a person just sits and randomly wants a fiancee."You want me to pretend to be your fiancée?" "Precisely." The absurdity of it all made me laugh, but the sound was hollow, bitter. I thought he was joking but from his countenance I realized he wasn't. "Why me? Surely, you can find someone more... suitable for this. In fact I don't have time for this. I thought you had something serious to offer. This was just