CHRISTOPHER' s POV.
The pilot's announcement of our arrival in Skyline City barely registered as I sipped my wine, my eyes scanning the blueprints for our latest project.
Skyline City glittered below, a million promises reflecting in the rain-slicked tarmac. But all I felt was a knot of dread. Fifteen years, and nothing had changed. My father still pulled the strings, and I was still dancing to his tune. This time, though, I planned to cut the cord.
"Welcome home, sir," the middle-aged man said cheerfully.
"I missed you too, Uncle Alonso," I replied, pulling him into a hug that clearly surprised him.
"This way," he said, recovering, and led me toward the waiting limousine. "You've grown a lot taller and even more handsome, sir," he added, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.
Chuckling at his remark, i was about to reply, when a ping sounded, signaling a notification on my phone.
I was surprised to see the notification was from a dating app I'd downloaded months ago. I clicked the icon and saw a message: 'You finally have a request @chrislu.' I chuckled inwardly; the app seemed as surprised as I was that I'd finally gotten a request after months of inactivity.
I raised an eyebrow. After months of digital silence, someone had braved my deliberately off-putting profile: no pictures, a bio that read like a corporate memo, and an hourly rate that would make a supermodel blush. Curiosity piqued, I clicked. The account sending the request was just as mysterious: no profile picture, no bio, created less than an hour ago.
Desperate? Maybe. Before I could dismiss it, another notification: I'll triple your price if you agree to meet tomorrow.
As intriguing as the offer was, and as curious as I was to see who would make such a ridiculous proposal, going on a blind date wasn't on my priority list at the moment.
I minimized the app, steeling myself as another notification appeared: a message from my father.
*I hope you're coming and will be staying at the family home, as I would like to introduce you to someone who will play an important role in your future.*
I knew the underlying message in my father's words, and it immediately infuriated me at how far he was willing to go to try and control my life.
I closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths, attempting to quell my rising rage and regain my composure.
"Who has been visiting Father lately?" I asked Alonso, my voice carefully neutral.
"Oh, well, you know… his business associates, important people from all over the world. Oh, and the president, he's been here often with his family. You know who the chairman is," he chuckled at the end, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
I was right… again, I thought, a grim satisfaction settling within me. Taking a deep breath, I forced down the rage and opened the dating app again. "Accept Request." I replied to the mysterious message:
Send me the time and location.
Seconds later: Master Suite A at De Castle Restaurant, 12 pm, the name is Eve.
De Castle. My company had built that place five years ago. How ironic.
Send me the time and location.
"Sir, are we going to the family home or the estate?" Alonso asked.
"Estate, Alonso," I said, putting away my phone. As we pulled into the night, a new plan solidified in my mind. If my father wanted a game, I'd play. But I'd be calling the shots.
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My unexpected stop at my company that morning sent a ripple of surprise through the place. Impromptu board meeting, quick words with the workers, signatures on a few crucial projects - I ensured everything was running smoothly before disappearing as abruptly as I'd arrived. I had an appointment to keep, and I wouldn't be late.
The air in the restaurant crackled with feminine attention as I entered. Heads turned, eyes widened, lips curved into practiced smiles. It was a symphony of desire I'd long grown accustomed to, a game I usually enjoyed playing. But today, my focus was singular: Eve.
Would she be the same? I wondered, the thought sparking a jolt of something akin to anticipation.
Pushing aside that thought, I approached the receptionist. "I have a reservation for Master Suite A."
She smiled, a practiced and professional performance. "Right this way," she purred, leading me to a gold-plated door that seemed to shimmer with hidden promise. A knock. A pause. Then, I stepped into a world that redefined the word "breathtaking."
The woman who turned to face me took my breath away. She was stunning – almost ethereally so, as cliché as it sounded. Beautiful wasn't enough; she looked like a vision conjured from a dream. I forced myself to remain composed, to keep my face neutral as I approached her.
"Eve?" The question slipped out, rougher than intended.
"Chrislu?" she replied, rising gracefully to her feet. A small smile played on her lips, the kind of effortless curve that could charm anyone. But I kept my expression steady. This was a transaction. A means to an end. Or so I told myself.
She extended her hand, her touch sending an unexpected jolt of electricity through me. "I'm Eve Mickelson, owner and director of Ethereal Eve fashion brand. Nice to finally meet you"
"Christopher," I replied, returning the handshake.
I wasn't involved in the fashion world, but Ethereal Eve was a name everyone knew. It was an empire built on elegance and innovation. I even owned a few pieces, gifts from past… acquaintances. More importantly, though, her last name sparked a flicker of recognition, a vague memory I couldn't quite place.
"Christopher," I said again. "A building contractor." I deliberately omitted certain details, wanting to keep my true identity under wraps for the time being.
"Alright, I'll get straight to the point…" she stated, cutting to the chase. "I need your services as a contract boyfriend/fianće for six months, maximum. Can you do it?"
Six months. The same timeframe I'd allotted for my return to Skyline City, for establishing my companies and evading my father's marital traps. A week, a month, that's what I had anticipated, not that it'd stop me. But six months? The universe was practically begging me to say yes.
"Name your price," she challenged, a subtle taunt in her voice.
I chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. She had no idea who she was dealing with or the kind of resources I command. "How about you don't pay me?" I drawled, leaning back, watching her.
A skeptical brow arched, a silent dare. God, she was exquisite.
"You want to make a counteroffer?" she countered, the words laced with steel.
Damn, she was sharp. I was surprised at how quickly she caught on, that she saw through the practiced charm and recognized my hidden agenda. I had clearly underestimated her… and that was a mistake I wouldn't make again.
"I need you as much as you need me," I said, my voice a low, deliberate purr, holding her gaze with an intensity that bordered on predatory. A flicker of surprise, a brief flash of vulnerability, crossed her face before she masked it with practiced control. The game was on.