Chapter 6

• While I waited for my coffee to brew, my fingers toyed idly with the black card in my hand. The name “Curtis Black” was printed boldly in gold across the sleek surface. ‘Is that his name?’ I thought, intrigued and slightly mesmerized.
• He had told me to call him if I ever needed help. But I doubted I ever would or at least, I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Accepting his help would mean feeling indebted to him, and that was something I couldn’t afford.
• With my phone in hand, I hesitated, his number already keyed in. My finger hovered over the dial button, and my mind raced. ‘What would I even say?’ Frustration bubbled up as I frowned, finally tossing the phone aside.
• Instead, I opened my laptop. If I wasn’t ready to call him, I could at least learn more about him. About his family. About the world I’d been asked to step into.
• A quick search later, the results left me staring at the screen, wide-eyed and speechless.
• The Black family wasn’t just wealthy, they were powerful. One of the richest families in the country, they owned over ten of the most prominent companies in various industries. Mansions, penthouses, estates, private planes. they had it all. Their combined net worth? A staggering $300 billion.
• The sharp whistle of the coffee maker jolted me back to reality. I hurried to turn it off, pouring the steaming liquid into a chipped mug. As I took a slow sip, the bittersweet taste settled on my tongue, and a thought struck me. This might be the last coffee I’d ever have in this apartment.
• Whether or not I took Curtis’s offer, the outcome seemed inevitable. If I didn’t accept, the landlord would still toss me out for the overdue rent.
• I sighed, staring into the dark liquid swirling in my mug. Belle wouldn’t approve of this plan, not in a million years. She was fiercely protective, always putting my well-being above everything else. If I told her a billionaire wanted me to risk my life playing detective to find his wife’s killer, she’d go ballistic.
• The mental image made me chuckle despite myself. I could almost see Belle storming into Curtis’s company her face set with determination, her handbag clutched tightly in hand. She’d demand to see him, probably berating every security guard who dared to stand in her way.
• And when she finally got to him? Oh, it wouldn’t be pretty. She’d let him have it, lecturing him, calling him every name under the sun, and punctuating each insult with a firm whack of her bag. Knowing Belle, she’d probably warn me to stand aside as she gave him the scolding of his life, right there in front of his entire staff.
• The thought warmed me, her unshakeable confidence and fiery nature always a source of comfort. But the humor faded as quickly as it came. Deep down, I knew she’d be right. Belle would never let me take this deal, not when it put my safety on the line.
• “Coming!” I called out as the doorbell rang. Walking through the cramped maze of my tiny apartment, I made my way to the door. Just before reaching it, I paused, pressing my eye to the peephole.
• You couldn’t be too careful. I’d heard one too many stories about kidnappings or homes being invaded by masked strangers. And after everything I’d just learned, paranoia wasn’t just a passing thought, it was a necessity.
• The idea that someone might come after me simply for resembling Curtis’s late wife sent a chill down my spine.
• But then my tense shoulders relaxed, and a smile crept onto my lips. “Speak of the devil.”
• I twisted the key in the lock, the soft ‘click’ followed by the creak of the knob as I pulled the door open. “You came.”
• Belle stood there, her arms full of grocery bags. She lifted them with a triumphant grin. “I brought wine.”
• I stepped aside, letting her in and shutting the door behind her.
• “You did?” I asked, coffee mug in hand, trailing after her as she made herself at home. She plopped down on the worn sofa, and I joined her, sinking into the familiar cushions.
• “Yes, and not only that,” she added with a sly smile. Digging into one of the bags, she pulled out a foil-wrapped burger. “I got takeout too.”
• My stomach grumbled at the sight, and I couldn’t help but smile. Belle always knew how to show up exactly when I needed her most.
• “What would I do without you?” I said, a soft smile playing on my lips.
• Belle had always been more than a friend, she was like the sister I never had. When my parents kicked me out, leaving me to face the world alone, she had been my rock. Even in my darkest moments, when I feared I’d have to rebuild my life entirely on my own, she was always there to remind me I wasn’t alone.
• She made me feel loved, a love I had never truly experienced before. Not from my parents, whose selfishness and greed had consumed them, leaving me in their shadow, forgotten and unloved. Belle was the only one who made me feel safe, who helped me put the past behind me, even Clint.
• “Now,” she began, her voice breaking through the comforting silence that had settled between us as we ate. I glanced at her, raising a brow in curiosity, sensing where this was headed.
• “Tell me everything about the interview. How did it go?” she asked, her face lighting up with excitement as she leaned in eagerly.
• I hesitated, taking a sip of coffee to buy myself time. I knew this was coming. Belle would never let me off the hook without details.
• “You want me to tell the whole story or skip to the important parts?”
• “I want you to tell me everything. Spill out everything.”
• So, I began recounting the story, carefully weaving through the events of the interview. I told her about Curtis, the unexpected turn of events, and the surreal feeling of it all. But I left out the parts about his late wife and the real reason he wanted to marry me.
• She didn’t need to know that. Not yet.
• Belle stayed silent for a while after I finished my story. She seemed lost in thought, her brows furrowed as she processed everything. I couldn’t read her expression, but I was sure she wasn’t thrilled about any of this.
• “Take it.”
• “Excuse me?” I asked, my voice laced with disbelief. I must have misheard her. Shock spread across my face as she bit into her burger, her eyes shutting briefly before she opened them again, pinning me with a judgmental stare.
• “What?” she asked casually as she swallowed. “You didn’t think I was going to tell you to take it, did you?”
• I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.
• Belle laughed, a light chuckle at first, which quickly turned into full-on laughter. Tears spilled from her eyes as she wiped them away with the back of her hand. “Girl, you’re hilarious.”
• “You want me to…”
• “Girl, take the d*mn offer,” she said firmly, cutting me off. “You need this job, Amber. And honestly? This is way better than whatever you were hoping for. Think about it. You’ll be a contract wife—help him take care of his son for a while, the contract ends, and you part ways with enough money to start over. He’s a billionaire, Amber! Not everyone gets this kind of opportunity. Hell, no one gets this kind of opportunity.”
• I hated to admit it, but she had a point. Even I knew that. But I never expected her to be so on board with the idea.
• Before I could protest, she plucked the black card from my hand, examining it with wide-eyed curiosity. “D*mn, this guy is loaded,” she muttered, impressed. “I can’t wait to see his mansion when you two get married.”
• “Belle…”
• “Call him.”
• “Huh?”
• “Call him. Right now.”
• Before I could argue, she snatched my phone and hit the dial button. The sharp sound of the ringtone filled the room. My heart rate spiked, panic creeping in. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, and while I wanted to snatch the phone back, I didn’t.
• “Hello.”
• His voice on the other end sent a jolt through me. Deep, rich, and calm. There was a pause as Belle handed me the phone, a triumphant smile on her face. I glared at her, silently pleading for help, but all I got was a thumbs-up.
• “Hi… it’s me, Amber,” I finally managed to say, my voice shaky but audible.
• “Oh, Amber,” he replied, his tone softening. “How are you? Are you okay?”
• Belle nudged me, mouthing, “Go on!”
• “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, glancing at her nervously. “I’m calling about the offer.”
• My stomach twisted as the words left my mouth. Was this too much? Did I sound desperate?
• There was silence on the other end. Too much silence. My chest tightened as anxiety took over. Did he hang up? Did I say something wrong?
• “What about it?” His voice broke the quiet, calm but curious.
• I took a deep breath, clenching my fists to steady myself. “I thought about what you said,” I began, my voice firmer now. “And after giving it a lot of consideration, I’ve come to a decision.”
• The words hung in the air for a moment before I let out the breath I’d been holding and said, “I’ll take your offer.”