She Agreed to Be a Billionaire’s Fake Fiancée… Then He Fell for Her for Real
Chapter 3
Emma’s life changed overnight.
Reporters waited outside the building.
Photographers followed her.
Her old classmates suddenly remembered her.
People who had ignored her for years began sending messages.
Alexander warned her.
“It’ll get worse.”
“It already is.”
“I’m sorry.”
Emma looked at him.
“You didn’t create the internet.”
“No.”
“But you created this.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
Then came the family dinner.
Alexander’s grandmother, Margaret Sterling, sat at the head of the table.
She was seventy-eight.
Elegant.
Sharp.
And intimidating.
Her eyes examined Emma from across the room.
“So.”
Emma smiled politely.
“Hello.”
“You’re the fiancée.”
“Yes.”
Margaret looked at Alexander.
“You didn’t tell me she was beautiful.”
Alexander’s expression tightened.
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“It matters to you.”
Emma noticed the subtle reaction.
Margaret noticed it too.
Dinner began.
Questions came quickly.
“Where did you meet?”
“How long have you known each other?”
“Why haven’t we heard about you?”
Emma answered carefully.
But when Margaret asked:
“Why do you love my grandson?”
Emma froze.
Alexander looked at her.
The contract said they could invent anything.
But Emma couldn’t lie convincingly about love.
So she answered honestly.
“I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that yet.”
The room went silent.
Margaret smiled.
“Interesting.”
Alexander looked relieved.
After dinner, he pulled Emma aside.
“You handled that well.”
“I almost died.”
“You didn’t.”
“Your grandmother looked like she could kill me with a spoon.”
Alexander laughed.
Emma smiled.
Then Margaret appeared behind them.
“Alexander.”
He turned.
“Yes?”
“Come see me tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Alone.”
Margaret looked at Emma.
“And bring your fiancée.”
Alexander frowned.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know whether she’s pretending.”
Emma’s heart stopped.
Margaret walked away.
Alexander looked at her.
“Don’t worry.”
Emma whispered:
“I think she knows.”
“She doesn’t.”
“Alexander.”
He looked at her.
“My grandmother sees everything.”
That night, Emma couldn’t sleep.
The contract had seemed simple.
Pretend.
Six months.
One million dollars.
But Margaret Sterling had already started looking beneath the surface.
And Emma had begun to realize something else.
Pretending to love Alexander might be easy.
Pretending not to care about him was becoming much harder.
