Young Millionaire Marries Poor Woman as a Business Deal. He Never Expected to Fall in Love With Her
Cracks in the Professional Mask
Natalie’s first morning began with the smell of coffee.
“Natalie,” Christopher’s voice called from the doorway.
She stirred, disoriented. The events of the last few days rushed back like a wave. She sat up, clutching the silk sheets.
Christopher stood there in a tailored gray suit. He looked like he’d already conquered half the world.
“We have a breakfast meeting. Be downstairs in 30 minutes.”
He didn’t wait for her reply before disappearing. Natalie groaned. She was legally a wife, but Christopher treated her like an employee. She stumbled out of bed and opened the closet.
It was packed with designer dresses, shoes, and handbags. She hesitated, running her fingers over the delicate fabrics. It all felt so surreal, like she’d stepped into someone else’s life.
Thirty minutes later, she entered the dining room in an elegant cream dress. Christopher barely glanced up from his phone. His sharp gaze flicked over her for a split second.
“Good. You look the part,” he said.
He stood and gestured for her to follow. They rode together in his sleek black car. The silence between them was palpable as Natalie stared out the window.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Being paraded into a high-end restaurant at 8:00 AM was a surprise. The restaurant featured glass walls and polished marble. Waiters greeted Christopher by name.
They were led to a private table where two men waited. Christopher introduced her as his wife. His hand briefly rested on her back. The gesture was so calculated it felt almost mechanical.
Natalie smiled politely, playing along as Christopher discussed mergers. She nodded when prompted and laughed softly at dry jokes. Throughout it all, Christopher was the picture of confidence and control.
As the meeting dragged on, Natalie felt watched. She’d catch Christopher’s gaze lingering on her. His blue eyes narrowed as if she were a puzzle. She wondered if he regretted choosing her or was judging her.
When the meeting ended, Christopher escorted her out with polite detachment. They didn’t speak until they were back in the car.
“You did well,” he said.
His tone was curt but not unkind.
“They liked you.”
“Glad I could be of service,” Natalie replied.
Sarcasm crept into her voice. Christopher glanced at her with one eyebrow raised.
“Is this the part where you tell me how much you hate this arrangement?”
She crossed her arms, meeting his gaze head-on.
“I think the word hate would be an understatement.”
To her surprise, the corner of his mouth twitched. He was fighting a smile.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“Doubtful,” she shot back.
For a moment, she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. Just as quickly, his expression hardened. He turned his attention back to the road.
The next few weeks passed in a blur of appearances. Christopher took her to charity galas and exclusive events. Natalie quickly learned how to navigate the world of the wealthy.
She learned to recognize power plays and deflect intrusive questions. But behind closed doors, her life felt like a lonely gilded cage. Christopher was distant, buried in work, and barely speaking to her.
She spent her days wandering the penthouse, ignoring the ache of loneliness. One evening, Natalie collapsed onto the sofa. She was still wearing an emerald green gown.
“You handled yourself well tonight,” Christopher said.
His voice startled her. She hadn’t noticed him come in. He stood by the window with his tie loosened and hands in his pockets. He looked less like a businessman and more human.
“Thanks,” she said.
Her voice was tinged with exhaustion.
“I think I deserve an Oscar for that performance.”
Christopher’s lips curved into a faint smile.
“It wasn’t all an act.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
He hesitated, his gaze fixed on the city skyline.
“You’re better at this than I expected. You’re convincing.”
Natalie frowned.
“Maybe I’m just really good at pretending.”
His eyes met hers. The mask he always wore seemed to slip.
“Maybe,” he said quietly.
Then he turned and walked away. A month into their arrangement, things began to change. It started small, with Christopher asking her opinion on business pitches.
He surprised her with a new set of paints. He had overheard her mention she used to love painting. There were moments when he let his guard down.
They stayed up late talking about their childhoods. He’d laugh at her sarcastic remarks. The sound was warm and genuine. The moment of realization came one rainy evening.
They were returning from an event as rain pounded the car.
“Stop the car,” Christopher suddenly said.
The driver pulled over. Before she could ask, Christopher stepped out into the storm.
He opened her door and extended his hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He smirked, his hair already slick with rain.
“Come on.”
Reluctantly, she took his hand. The rain was cold and relentless, soaking them both. Christopher led her to the middle of the sidewalk. He twirled her once like they were dancing.
“Are you always this insane?” she shouted.
She was laughing despite herself.
“Only when it comes to you,” he said.
His voice was soft but clear.
Her laughter faltered. In his gaze, she saw something that wasn’t calculated. It was raw, unspoken, and terrifyingly real. Natalie realized she wasn’t pretending anymore.
