Possessive Fake Husband

I shoot him a look, but smile back despite myself. I head upstairs and disappear back into my room. I shut the door and lock it before throwing myself down on my bed and burying my face in the pillow.

I’m not going to cry. I won’t let myself do that.

I made my choice. I married this stranger. I did it for myself, as much as I did it for my father, and I can’t pretend like I have any moral high ground here.

But the idea of spending three years trapped in a fake marriage…

It’s terrifying. I can’t pretend otherwise.

Still, it could be worse.

At least Josh is good to look at. Like, really good to look at. And he can cook, which is pretty much the biggest bonus imaginable.

I’ll manage this. I’ll get through it. And in the end, I’ll come out the other side, stronger than I was before.

Still, one thing keeps bugging me, as I lie in my bed trying to process my new reality.

While you’re mine.

That phrase keeps playing in my head, looping over and over.

I love the way he said it. Those words sent a chill down my spine.

To be possessed by a man like him…

There are worse things in this world. Much, much worse things.

Maybe, for just a little while, I can be his, all his.

At least until this is over.4JoshThe office of Cork Electric is located right in downtown Philly. We have two floors in a high-rise, and my office is on the top floor in the far corner. I get good light in the morning and have a nice view across the city. As I lean back in my chair and kick my feet up, I should feel like I’m on top of the world.

Except I know my world was built on shaky foundations, and one wrong move can bring it tumbling down.

I grew up in Cork Electric. My father’s father created and built this company, and it’s been a tradition within my family to devote our lives to it. There’s nothing more important in this world than Cork, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep it going.

Even merging with Bushings, our competitor.

I think about my new little wife back at my place. She’s gorgeous, clever, and ready to bolt at any second. She’s only halfway in this, I can tell, and I can’t blame her. The idea of being married to some stranger for years is probably horrifying. I wish I could go back there and tell her that it’ll all be okay, that it’ll all be worth it…

But that might be a lie.

I don’t know if it’ll be okay. We need to start convincing the board, but I can’t do that if she’s only going to bolt in a few days. First, I need to make sure that she’s in this.

It’s hard to say one way or the other. I can tell she wants that seven percent and wants this plan to succeed, but the thought of what it’ll take terrifies her, and for good reason.

Her father did a shit job preparing all this.

Or maybe it’s my fault. I should’ve been more up front about what this’ll take before we got married. Maybe I should’ve explained more that this isn’t just some few weeks, few months sort of thing. This is a long-term game, a long-term con.

We’re going to get what we want in the end, but we’ll both have to sacrifice for it.

Not like this is something I wanted.

I sigh and rub my eyes before picking up my phone. I hit my first speed dial and it calls up my secretary. She answers on the second ring.

“Hi, hon,” she says. “You in today?”

“I’m in. Can you bring me some coffee? I want to chat.”

“All right then, hon.”

She hangs up and I look out the window. If anyone knows what to do, it’s Maeve.

I’ve known her since I was a toddler. She was my father’s secretary, started back when she was just a young girl. She used to come over and babysit for my parents sometimes. I thought of her as an aunt or something like that, and my father never really disabused the notion. When he passed, she spoke at his funeral, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

She’s the only one that knows the truth about me and Maggie. Hell, she helped me come up with the plan, helped me approach Maggie’s father. Without her, none of this would be happening.

She comes in a few minutes later with a cup of coffee. She puts it down on the desk and sits in the chair across from me with a sigh. She’s in her sixties now, her dark hair cut short, her business clothes fashionable but comfortable. Maeve is the best paid secretary in this whole company, and makes as much as most of the managers. My father always valued her, and I’m not stupid enough to shake things up.