My CEO Forced Me Into A Fake Relationship — But He Didn’t Know I Was His Missing Woman
Part 1
I stared at the thirty-million-dollar contract resting on the polished mahogany desk.
Charles Pembroke, the ruthless CEO of Stormspire Group, slid a heavy gold pen across the glass surface toward me.
He needed a fake girlfriend to get his overbearing Uncle Arthur off his back.
I needed the money to save my family from crushing debt and keep a roof over my head.
It seemed like a simple, straightforward business transaction.
There was just one massive, career-destroying problem.
Charles had absolutely no idea that “Naomi,” the random woman he’d met on a disastrous blind date, was actually Nora Ellis.
Nora Ellis was his lead AI robotics engineer, a woman who spent her days hiding behind safety goggles in his basement lab.
And even worse, he didn’t know that I was the mysterious woman he was currently tearing the city apart to find.
The entire mess started three days ago when my best friend Jody called me with a trembling voice.
Her job at an elite matchmaking agency was on the line if she couldn’t find a twentieth blind date for a demanding billionaire client.
I agreed to fill the slot out of pure desperation for her, throwing on a cheap blonde wig and calling myself Naomi.
I planned to act completely insane, ruin the date within five minutes, and go straight home.
Instead, Charles found my bizarre, chaotic behavior refreshing.
My stomach completely plummeted when he finally introduced himself at the table.
He was the CEO of my company, a man whose intense face I had only ever seen in corporate newsletters and terrified whispers around the water cooler.
I scrambled out of the restaurant as fast as my heels could carry me, praying I would never cross paths with him again in that ridiculous disguise.
Fate had a sick, twisted sense of humor.
The very next evening, a mandatory corporate mixer dragged me to a high-end luxury hotel.
An open bar proved far too tempting after a grueling week of product rejections and brutal management emails.
Too much champagne clouded my judgment, leading me to stumble into the wrong private elevator and somehow wander directly into Charles’s penthouse suite.
The memories of that night remained entirely blurry, leaving only a haze of dim lighting and hushed whispers.
Only the heavy, intoxicating scent of his expensive cologne and the intense warmth of his skin against mine stuck in my fractured mind.
Morning sunlight hit my face, sending me into a state of chaotic adrenaline with my heart hammering against my ribs.
Snatching my discarded clothes from the floor, I shoved my feet into my shoes and sprinted out the door before he even opened his eyes.
Covering my tracks required using my high-level tech credentials to hack into the hotel’s security system and permanently delete the surveillance footage.
Now, sitting in his office under the glaring fluorescent lights, I was playing an incredibly dangerous game.
Charles leaned back in his leather executive chair, studying my face with a piercing intensity.
His dark eyes held a frustrating amount of confidence, the kind that only billionaires possessed.
“Sign the paper, Naomi.”
He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the armrest of his chair.
“Thirty million dollars to pretend you love me at family dinners.”
I picked up the heavy gold pen, my hand trembling slightly against the cool metal.
I scribbled my fake signature onto the dotted line, effectively sealing my fate.
He snatched the document back immediately, a triumphant smirk crossing his sharp features.
“Perfect.”
He stood up, walking over to a small side table by the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Now, since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, I need you to accompany me to my company’s anniversary gala this Saturday.”
My breath completely hitched in my throat, freezing my lungs.
The anniversary gala was a mandatory attendance event for all department leads.
I was supposed to present my new AI prototype to the entire board of directors that exact same night as Nora.
“I can’t go on Saturday,” I blurted out, my voice cracking slightly.
Charles raised an arrogant eyebrow, stepping closer to my chair.
“You signed an ironclad contract.”
He pulled a small velvet box from the inner pocket of his tailored suit jacket.
“And I expect my girlfriend to wear this.”
He snapped the box open, revealing a stunning, intricate diamond necklace.
It was the exact same necklace I had accidentally left on his nightstand after we slept together.
He pulled the delicate chain out, his gaze turning suspiciously sharp as it caught the light.
“You know, Naomi, I found this in my hotel room two nights ago.”
He stepped directly into my personal space, the diamond glittering inches from my face.
“And the incredibly strange thing is, my missing hotel guest wore the exact same perfume you are wearing right now.”
