Chapter 3 News and Ultimatums

It had only been a day since Leo Hartford dropped Cecilia off at her apartment. He hadn't thought much about the incident after leaving-at least, not consciously. But as his phone buzzed relentlessly the next morning, a sense of dread settled into his gut.

His assistant, Myles, burst into his office without knocking. "You've seen the news, right?"

Leo glanced up from his laptop. "I haven't checked anything yet. Why?"

Myles held up his phone, the screen displaying a headline in bold black letters:

"Mystery Woman Spotted with Billionaire CEO Leo Hartford-Wedding Bells Soon?"

Leo's jaw tensed. "You've got to be kidding me."

There were three photos attached. One of him helping Cecilia into his car. One of them walking out of the ER entrance. And the worst one-him paying her landlord on the sidewalk, with Cecilia standing behind him, looking startled.

It looked... intimate.

Like he was protecting her.

"Damn paparazzi," Leo muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "How did they even know where I was?"

"You're Leo Hartford," Myles said. "If you sneeze in public, someone sells the tissue."

Leo didn't laugh.

"Social media is blowing up," Myles continued. "Everyone wants to know who she is. Twitter's calling her your fiancée."

"She's not."

"Well, the Internet disagrees."

Leo leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowed. "Damage control?"

Myles hesitated. "That's... tricky. You could deny everything, but that means throwing the girl under the bus. And based on how this looks-" he pointed to the photos, "-people are already romanticizing it. Poor girl, rich CEO, whirlwind love story. It's a PR dream... or a nightmare, depending how you play it."

Leo's phone buzzed again.

Dad (4 Missed Calls)

Mom (7 Texts)

His heart sank. "Speak of the devil."

---

Thirty minutes later, Leo stood in the lavish sitting room of his parents' mansion in Buckhead. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, glinting off crystal vases and imported furniture.

His mother, Margaret Hartford, was pacing in front of the fireplace with her phone in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other.

His father, Richard, was seated on the edge of the chaise lounge, arms folded, expression stern.

"Why didn't we hear this from you first?" Margaret snapped, waving the phone at him. "This girl-what's her name again? Cecilia?"

"She's not my girlfriend," Leo said for the fifth time.

"You were photographed with her, helping her out of a hospital. Paying her bills! What do you expect people to think?"

"That I hit her with my car and didn't want her to sue me?" he snapped back.

Richard raised an eyebrow. "You hit her?"

"Barely. She wasn't seriously injured. I took her to the hospital and made sure she got home. That's it."

Margaret shook her head. "Well, it doesn't matter now. Everyone already believes you're in love. And frankly... we're glad."

Leo stared at her. "Excuse me?"

"We've been asking you to settle down for years," Richard added. "And now the universe does the job for us."

"She's not my girlfriend," Leo repeated. "She's a stranger."

"That's not what it looks like," Margaret said, eyes gleaming. "And the board is already talking."

Leo stilled. "The board?"

"You know how they've been. Always questioning your position. Always ready to say you're too young, too single, too distracted. This is a chance to prove them wrong."

Leo's jaw clenched. "So you want me to pretend to be in love?"

"We want you to make it official."

"Marry her?" He barked a short laugh. "You're insane."

Richard stood slowly. "You built Hartford Global from the ground up, Leo. But legacy matters. Presentation matters. If the board starts thinking you're unstable or scandal-prone, they'll vote you out and install someone more... traditional."

"I've tripled company revenue in the last two years," Leo growled.

"And none of that will matter if your image costs us shareholders," Richard replied coolly.

Margaret stepped forward. "If this Cecilia girl is as sweet as she looks, then bring her home. You're already halfway there."

Leo ran a hand through his hair, heart pounding. He didn't have time for this. He had deadlines, meetings, an acquisition on the horizon. And now this?

All because he tried to do the right thing?

---

That evening, Leo sat in his penthouse staring at his untouched dinner. The city sparkled outside his window, but his thoughts were anywhere but serene.

He didn't even know Cecilia Brooks. She was just a stranger he hit with his car. A woman who looked too tired to fight back. Who flinched when her landlord screamed. Who tried to hold her head high even when her shoes were in her hands and her pride was in pieces.

He didn't want a wife.

But he couldn't afford to lose his company either.

His phone buzzed. A message from Myles:

"Board is asking questions. Damage control needed ASAP."

Then another text-unexpected this time:

Cecilia:

Hi. I just saw the article... Are you okay? I'm sorry this happened. I didn't mean to cause trouble.

He stared at the screen.

She was worried about him.

Of course she was.

With a sigh, Leo hit call.

"Hello?" Her voice was soft, cautious.

"Hi. It's me."

"Oh." She paused. "I didn't expect you to call."

"I saw your message. No, you didn't cause this. I did. I should've known someone was watching."

There was silence on the other end.

"Cecilia, listen," he said, voice low. "This is going to sound insane, but... I need a favor."

"Okay..."

"My parents think we're dating. The board does too. And if I don't prove I'm in a stable relationship-preferably heading toward marriage-I could lose everything."

More silence.

"I'm not asking for anything romantic," he added quickly. "Just... pretend. For six months. Be my fiancée in public. We'll write up a contract. You'll be paid."

Her breath caught. "You want me to fake a relationship with you?"

"Yes. Strictly business. No touching. No kissing. Just photos, dinners, and one family visit. Then we walk away."

Cecilia didn't answer right away.

Then she whispered, "How much?"

He hesitated. "Six figures."

She inhaled sharply.

"That would pay off your debts, your rent for the year, and whatever else you're dealing with," he added.

She still didn't respond.

"I won't pressure you," Leo said. "But think about it. I'll send the terms tomorrow."

And he hung up.