The Price of Yes

Brielle Morgan had made bad decisions before.

Like that time she tried to dye her hair pink with food coloring in middle school. Or the time she broke her ankle doing a backflip at a concert to impress a guy who didn’t remember her name the next day.

But agreeing to marry a billionaire stranger for money?

That would take the crown.

She stared at Alexander Hayes’ business card like it was radioactive. For two days, it lived on her nightstand, untouched—while her landlord sent her final notice, her fridge sat empty, and the hospital called twice to remind her of her brother’s unpaid bills.

“Are you sure this is a bad idea?” she asked her reflection in the mirror.

The reflection stared back, unimpressed. Pale under-eye circles. Chapped lips. Hope? Nonexistent.

It’s not love, she reminded herself. It’s business. A contract. Survival.

And he said no romance. No intimacy. Just the illusion of a marriage.

It wasn’t like she’d never faked a smile before.

⸻

Two days later, Brielle found herself in the lobby of Hayes Global, stomach twisted in a tight knot. The building was a gleaming column of steel and ambition. She’d taken the elevator to the top floor with shaking hands and a rehearsed line in her head.

She didn’t even get to say it.

Because the moment she stepped into Alexander’s private office, he looked up from behind his desk and said, “You’re late.”

Brielle arched a brow. “Hello to you too.”

“You thought about it.”

“I did.”

“And?”

She walked to his desk, dropped the business card on it, and met his gaze.

“I’ll do it.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just nodded, reached into a drawer, and pulled out a black folder.

“The contract,” he said. “Read it. Understand every word before you sign.”

She sat down across from him and flipped it open. His tone was detached. Professional. Like he was closing a merger—not planning a year-long marriage.

⸻

TERMS & CONDITIONS

– One-year marital agreement.

– No physical or emotional entanglements permitted.

– Appearances at social events required.

– Shared residence mandatory.

– Monthly allowance of $20,000, with additional living expenses covered.

– Termination clause available only with mutual consent.

⸻

She skimmed, brows lifting slightly. “You really went all in on this, huh?”

“I don’t take risks without control.”

“You do realize marriage isn’t usually considered a controlled environment?”

“That’s why this isn’t really a marriage.”

He handed her a pen. “You sign, and everything you need becomes yours tomorrow.”

She hesitated. Her hand hovered.

Then she thought of her brother. Of the way he smiled even when he was in pain. Of the bills she couldn’t pay. Of the dreams she’d buried under guilt and exhaustion.

She signed.

With one sharp stroke of ink, she sold her freedom. For money. For family. For a chance to breathe.

When she looked up, Alexander was already putting the file away.

“That’s it?” she asked. “No handshake, no ring, no… welcome to your fake life?”

He glanced at her, voice dry. “We’ll schedule the wedding for Friday.”

“Seriously?”

He stood, adjusting his watch. “You wanted time to think. I gave it. Now I expect results.”

“Do all your business deals involve women in white dresses?”

His mouth twitched. “Only the ones that need to look convincing.”

⸻

As she left the office, the reality of it all began to set in.

She was about to marry a man who looked at her like a solution.