He swore he would marry the first woman who walked through the door, then a soaked delivery girl changed his entire empire

The next twenty-four hours were a blur of terrifying efficiency.

Harper was whisked from her tiny apartment in Queens to Julian’s sprawling, dual-level penthouse overlooking Central Park. Lily was safely transferred to the luxury wing of Mount Sinai, surrounded by the best pediatric specialists in the world. For the first time in years, Harper knew her sister was truly safe.

But her own nightmare was just beginning.

At 6:00 AM, a team of stylists, makeup artists, and designers descended upon the penthouse. Harper was scrubbed, polished, plucked, and styled until she barely recognized the woman staring back at her in the mirror. Her messy bun was transformed into elegant, loose waves. Her pale skin was given a flawless, subtle glow.

And then came the dress.

It wasn't a traditional gown. It was a sleek, tailored ivory suit that screamed old money and untouchable power.

When Harper stepped out of the master suite, Julian was waiting in the foyer. He was wearing a pitch-black tuxedo, looking like a dark prince from a modern tragedy. When he saw her, he stopped mid-sentence while speaking to his security chief.

For three agonizing seconds, Julian Sterling simply stared at her. The icy composure in his eyes slipped, replaced by a flash of raw, unfiltered male appreciation.

Harper swallowed hard, suddenly intensely aware of the way the tailored suit hugged her curves. "Do I pass inspection, Mr. Sterling?"

Julian cleared his throat, his mask slamming back into place. "You look... adequate. And it’s Julian. If the press hears you calling me Mr. Sterling, the entire facade crumbles."

He walked over to her and pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. He opened it, revealing a massive, flawless oval-cut diamond ring. It was twice the size of the one Victoria had worn.

"Give me your hand," he commanded gently.

Harper extended her trembling left hand. Julian slid the ring onto her finger. The metal was cold, but his skin was surprisingly warm. When his fingers brushed against hers, a sudden, electric jolt shot up Harper's arm, causing her to gasp slightly.

Julian’s eyes snapped up to meet hers. He had felt it too. The air between them suddenly felt thick, charged with an undeniable, terrifying gravity.

"Rule number one of this contract, Harper," Julian whispered, his face inches from hers. "We must convince the world we are wildly, irrationally in love. But behind closed doors, we feel nothing. Do you understand?"