ACT LIKE YOU LOVE ME

"Would you help me this once?" Victoria's voice carried a desperate edge as she paced her hotel room. "I thought we were best friends. I'm not asking you to do it for free I'll pay you. It'll be the easiest money you've ever made."

She could hear Mira's hesitation through the phone, but she pressed on, guilt-tripping her best friend with practiced ease.

Victoria had received an email from her boss that morning: a high-profile client needed her services immediately. The problem? She was currently vacationing in Monaco, directly violating her boss's strict travel policy. After hours of panic and failed attempts to reschedule, she'd called Mira with what seemed like the perfect solution. The client had never met his hired girlfriend before—no one would know the difference.

"What you're asking me to do is impossible," Mira said, her voice tight with tension. "I'm in a relationship, remember? What happens when Adrian finds out?"

"Who's going to tell him?" Victoria shot back. "Mira, if the roles were reversed, I'd jump in for you without hesitation. This booking came out of nowhere, and my job is on the line. Please I'm begging you."

Silence stretched between them. Victoria knew Mira was weighing her options, knew exactly which pressure points to hit.

"You know what?" Victoria softened her tone, playing her final card. "Think about it. I can't force you to do anything you don't want to do, but please... save me."

The line went dead.

---

Mira stared at her phone in the suffocating quiet of her small bedroom. Victoria knew exactly what she was doing dangling that financial carrot when Mira needed money most desperately.

But pretending to be some rich man's girlfriend? Even for a week? Even for good money?

What if Adrian found out?

Her eyes drifted to the framed photograph on her nightstand the last picture of her family before everything fell apart. Her mother's radiant smile seemed to mock the cramped room Mira now shared with her father, a far cry from the comfortable home they'd once known.

Her father had liquidated everything for her mother's cancer treatment. When that wasn't enough, he'd turned to loan sharks, desperate men who'd promised quick cash for crushing interest rates. All of it had been useless in the end. The breast cancer had metastasized too far, too fast.

Now those same loan sharks circled like vultures, and their patience was wearing thin.

Mira's loyalty was torn between two men: her boyfriend Adrian, who trusted her completely, and her father, who'd sacrificed everything for their family. Her father would be horrified if he knew what she was considering, but who would tell him?

Victoria had made it sound simple: pretend to be Tyler Dalton's girlfriend for one week. No intimacy, just acting. The pay would be enough to clear their debts entirely.

And Adrian was conveniently away on business for the next month.

If Victoria kept her mouth shut, if the client never learned her real identity, if she could maintain the charade for just seven days...

Her phone buzzed. Victoria's name flashed on the screen.

"I'll do it," Mira said before Victoria could speak. "But I have conditions. You promise me swear to me that you won't tell anyone about this. Ever. The client won't know my real name or anything about me. As far as he's concerned, I'm you. And you need to give me a believable story for my father."

"Mira!" Victoria's relief was palpable. "I knew you'd come through, but I didn't expect you to decide so quickly. Done—all of your conditions. Tell your dad you're visiting me for a week, that I have a job opportunity for you. If he asks for details, have him call me. I'll think of something."

"This better go smoothly, Victoria."

"Trust me, it will. But you'll need to know about the client. His name is Tyler Dalton early thirties, incredibly handsome, and filthy rich. Oh, and he has trust issues, so tread carefully."

"Trust issues?" Mira's stomach knotted. "What kind of trust issues?"

"I don't know the details, and frankly, it's not my business. I do my job and leave. So please do me this favor, do the job, and get out. Don't ask personal questions."

"Yes, ma'am," Mira replied with mock salute in her voice. "When do I meet this mysterious Mr. Dalton?"

"You'll spend a week with him first getting comfortable, learning about his family and friends. Then you'll attend his cousin's wedding with him. That's the main event, so you need to be the perfect girlfriend. Can you handle that?"

"When do I get paid?"

"You'll get an advance today for shopping. He's used to dating women who dress... well, let's just say you'll need to upgrade your wardrobe. No offense."

Mira hissed in annoyance, making Victoria chuckle as she hung up.

Tyler Dalton paced his bedroom, wine glass in hand, questioning every decision that had led him to this moment.

He'd always prided himself on being rational, logical. But hiring a fake girlfriend? That was the desperate act of a man who'd lost all perspective.

The wedding invitation mocked him from his dresser. His cousin's wedding. His cousin, who was marrying Tyler's ex-fiancée.

The woman who'd humiliated him two years ago was now expecting him to attend her wedding with a smile. His family wanted him to prove he harbored no hard feelings, to laugh and celebrate as if his heart hadn't been shattered in front of everyone who mattered.

He had every right to be angry, to stay away, to nurse his wounds in private. But his pride wouldn't let them see him broken.

So he'd called the agency and hired a girlfriend. Someone who was everything Claire wasn't dark hair instead of blonde, presumably loyal instead of treacherous. He'd pay her well, use her to save face, then send her away the moment the charade was over.

It was supposed to be simple. Professional. Emotionless.

But when he'd seen her photo, something had stirred in his chest that he'd thought was dead. She was beautiful, yes, but there was something else a vulnerability in her eyes that called to him despite his best efforts to remain detached.

Maybe it was time to break his two-year streak of celibacy. He could be attracted to her without emotional investment, couldn't he? Sex didn't require love, after all.

The clock struck eight. Tyler straightened his tie and headed for the dining room, more eager for dinner than he'd been in months.

Mira jolted awake, disoriented by the unfamiliar darkness surrounding her. It took several moments for reality to crash back she was in Tyler Dalton's house, in the guest room he'd assigned her.

She fumbled for the bedside lamp and checked her watch: 9:50 PM.

She'd missed dinner.

Why hadn't he woken her up? Nortification flooded through her. This was exactly the wrong way to start. How could she apologize for such a basic failure?

She reached for her phone to call her father and Victoria, only to discover she had no signal. Perfect.

As she stood to leave the room, a sound from the far wall made her freeze. There was a door there that she hadn't noticed before had it been there when she'd arrived? The sound came again, muffled but distinct.

Every instinct screamed at her to run, but curiosity won. She crept toward the door, pressing her ear against the wood to listen.

That's when she lost her footing.

The door swung open, and Mira tumbled through, landing in a heap on the other side directly at the feet of Tyler Dalton, who stood frozen in his private bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and water still dripping from his hair.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Tyler's eyes narrowed, and his voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"Who the hell are you?"