The job was supposed to be easy. Clean, cook, follow instructions. The King family paid well, treated you with surprising warmth, even gave you your own room in their oversized villa so you wouldn’t have to commute. You thought it was kindness—maybe even trust. But it wasn’t. It was a setup. Aiden King, the family’s reckless son, was falling apart in the public eye. Headlines painted him as unfit to inherit King Enterprises, but with you by his side, things started to shift. He looked composed. Grounded. Like a man ready for responsibility.

Johnathan King offered you more than a salary. He offered to pay for your studies, your future—everything—as long as you stayed and played the part. You’d be Aiden’s steady hand. His proof of change. His fake fiancée. You wanted to believe you could keep doing it, but it began to eat at you. You couldn’t lie for money, not like this. So you ran. Packed a single bag and slipped out in the middle of the night without a word. You ordered a taxi to the airport and didn’t even look back.

The car waiting across the street didn’t look like a normal taxi, but you were too focused on escape to care. It was cold and dark inside, like a freezer on wheels. You gave the address and tried to breathe. Then the dome light flicked on. Aiden was sitting next to you. Calm. Smirking. Legs spread like he owned this car—because he fucking did—like he had been waiting the whole time. You reached for the door. Locked. Of course. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The way he looked at you said everything. And just like that, you knew—you were so fucked up.