CEO Proposes A Fake Engagement Deal, Never Imagining He’d Truly Want The Woman By His Side
The Unraveling of the Truth
Naomi’s heart thudded. This wasn’t pretend anymore—not for her. From the look in his eyes, it wasn’t for him either.
Naomi stood in the private elevator of Vale Tower, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. The doors opened to the executive floor, where polished marble floors gleamed under the soft golden light.
She stepped out, her heels clicking in a rhythm that betrayed her nerves. Gregory’s assistant greeted her with a nod. She was a tall woman with sleek hair and an expression that gave nothing away.
“Miss Maddox. He’s waiting for you in the conference suite.”
Naomi walked down the long hallway. Every step felt heavier than the last. When she entered the suite, the first thing she noticed wasn’t Gregory.
It was the man sitting across from him. He was older, with silver hair and sharp eyes. He wore a navy suit and a wedding band that glinted as he gestured with a glass of water.
Gregory stood when he saw her. “Naomi, come in. This is Charles Langston, chairman of the board.”
Langston rose, sizing her up with a glance that made her spine stiffen. “So, you’re the woman who’s managed to tame the dragon,” he said, his voice low and clipped. “Forgive the metaphor. Gregory’s reputation precedes him.”
Naomi forced a smile. “I’ve heard some of the stories.”
Langston’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
Gregory cut in smoothly. “We’re here to finalize the board’s approval of the acquisition. Naomi’s presence is part of the stability proposal.”
Langston’s gaze flicked to Gregory. “We’ll see if the rest of the board agrees. A ring doesn’t mean commitment—not in our world.”
Naomi’s jaw tensed slightly. “I’m not here to convince anyone. But I wouldn’t agree to this if I didn’t believe in what Gregory’s building.”
Langston studied her a moment longer, then nodded. “Conviction. Good. We’ll be watching.”
After he left, Naomi turned to Gregory. “Is this how it’s going to be? Constant tests?”
“They’re afraid I’ll self-sabotage,” he said. “I’ve done it before.”
She tilted her head. “And you think pretending to be in love is the solution?”
For a moment, his expression shifted. Something flickered behind the cool exterior.
“No,” he said quietly. “But it’s the only thing they’ll accept.”
They walked back to his office in silence. As the door closed behind them, Naomi turned to face him. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for this world, Gregory.”
He leaned against the edge of his desk. “I didn’t bring you into it to make you change.”
She hesitated. “Then why me?”
His answer was simple. “Because you don’t try to play me.”
Later that evening, Naomi returned to her apartment and found an envelope waiting by her door. Inside was a handwritten note in Gregory’s bold script and a set of keys on a leather fob.
You’ll be safer here.
The address was in Tribeca, a secured building with only twelve residences. She went, not because she wanted to live in one of Gregory’s properties, but because the press had started camping outside her brownstone. Two strangers had tried to follow her into a cafe that afternoon.
The penthouse was silent when she arrived. Gregory wasn’t there. The space was vast and open, with tall windows and clean lines. Everything was in shades of stone and warm wood. There was no gold, no excess—just quiet, curated elegance.
She opened one of the closets and found a row of clothes in her size. They were carefully chosen, all with the tags still on. They were not flashy, just thoughtful.
The next morning, she woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of a piano. She followed the music to the central room, barefoot on the warm oak floors.
Gregory sat at the grand piano near the windows. His sleeves were rolled, his fingers moving with practiced ease. The music was slow, haunting, and beautiful. She leaned against the wall, watching him.
“You play?” she asked softly when he finished.
He didn’t look at her. “Only early in the morning, or when I can’t sleep.”
“Which was it?”
He turned. “Both.”
She walked closer. “I didn’t know you played.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he said almost gently.
She sat on the bench beside him, careful not to touch. “Then tell me something. Something real.”
He closed the lid of the piano. “My father built this company. He died before I could prove I was more than a mistake.”
Naomi didn’t reply; she just waited.
“I blew the first merger I ever handled. I trusted the wrong people and lost millions. The board nearly removed me.”
“And now?” she asked.
“Now I fix things with precision. No emotion. No risk.”
She glanced at him. “But this… us? It’s a risk.”
He met her eyes. “Exactly.”
That afternoon, she joined him at a foundation meeting. The room was filled with donors and trustees, all dressed in subtle power. Gregory introduced her as his fiancée with a steady hand on her back.
She noticed the way his fingers pressed lightly, as if grounding himself. After the meeting, as they walked through the marble corridor, she asked, “What happens if the acquisition goes through and the board still doesn’t think I’m enough?”
He stopped walking. “Then I step down.”
She stared at him. “You’d give up everything if it meant not using you like a pawn?”
“Yes.”
Naomi’s throat tightened. “You don’t owe me that.”
“I might not,” he said, “but I owe myself more than another lie.”
That evening, they attended a fundraiser at the New York Public Library. The ceiling soared above them, chandeliers sparkling like constellations. Naomi wore a sleek black gown Gregory had chosen. For the first time, she didn’t feel like an impostor in his world.
“People are watching,” he murmured, offering his hand.
She placed hers in his, and they moved to the dance floor. The music swelled around them, and he guided her in slow, deliberate steps.
“I don’t dance,” she whispered.
“You are now.”
She looked up at him. “You’re changing.”
He met her gaze. “So are you.”
Naomi didn’t argue because it was true. They were both pretending, but somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred so deeply that she couldn’t tell where the performance ended and the truth began.
The way Gregory looked at her now didn’t feel like business anymore.
Then the rain came down in sheets, slicing through the evening like a curtain drawn over the city. Naomi stood beneath the awning of the opera house. Her dress clung to her legs, the silk darkened by the damp air.
She wasn’t cold; she was furious. Gregory emerged moments later, his jaw tight and hair damp at the edges. The black car waited just behind him, but she didn’t move.
“You lied to me,” Naomi said. Her tone was sharp but steady.
He didn’t flinch. “I didn’t lie. I omitted something.”
“That’s not better,” she snapped. “You said the board wanted you to appear committed. You never said you were using me to outmaneuver your uncle’s proxy vote.”
Gregory exhaled, looking away toward the street. “Langston has been trying to force me out for over a year. I needed leverage.”
“So you used me as a pawn in a family war.”
“I used the situation,” he said, “not you.”
Naomi stepped forward, the anger in her chest boiling over. “Don’t twist this. You handpicked me because I was convenient. Because I had nothing to lose.”
“I picked you,” he said, his voice low, “because you’re the only person in this entire city who looks me in the eye without calculating what you can take from me.”
She stared at him, heart pounding. “And what exactly did you think I’d do when I found out?”
His silence was answer enough. Without another word, she turned and walked toward the car. He followed.
Inside, the air was too quiet. The driver pulled away from the curb. The city blurred past the windows in streaks of gray and gold.
Gregory spoke first, his voice quieter now. “I wasn’t expecting it to go this far.”
Naomi looked at him. “You mean the lie?”
“I mean the truth.”
She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her emotions were too tangled—betrayal, confusion, and something else she didn’t want to name.
Back at the penthouse, she moved quickly, heading straight for the guest room where she’d kept her overnight things. He followed her into the hallway.
“Naomi, wait.”
She spun around. “This was supposed to be simple.”
“You knew it wouldn’t be,” he said.
“Not like this.”
There was a long pause before he said, “I’ll release you.”
Her chest tightened. “What?”
“If you want out, I’ll tell the board we ended it. That it was mutual.”
“And the deal?”
“I’ll take the hit.”
She blinked. “You’d do that?”
He nodded once. “I have people who can clean up the press. You’ll be protected. I won’t let them drag your name through anything.”
Her throat constricted. “Why?”
Gregory looked at her, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen. “Because I care more about you than I do my pride.”
Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Naomi stepped back, her voice breaking just slightly. “I need time.”
He didn’t try to stop her.
