Chapter 2

I nodded calmly and didn't argue.

"The food is getting cold. Let's eat."

Satisfied by my apparent submission, Derek's expression softened.

"Good girl. I'm glad you can see reason. Stick with me, and I'll make sure you're taken care of. That two-thousand-dollar monthly allowance will be plenty, as long as you stop buying cheap junk and drugstore makeup."

The rest of dinner was just Derek narrating his grandiose five-year plan.

When the meal ended, Derek signaled the waiter and pulled out his black card with a flourish.

The waiter smiled politely. "Sir, the lady already settled the bill earlier."

Derek froze, turning to me. "You paid?"

"Yeah. You treated last time, so it was my turn," I said with an easy smile.

His jaw tightened. His male ego had clearly taken a hit. "I told you I'd take care of you. You don't need to pay for anything."

"Save your little paycheck for pocket change," he muttered, glancing down at the itemized receipt. His brow furrowed instantly. "Wait, did you order a second bottle of that wine? Do you have any idea how much Romanée-Conti costs? You have zero financial sense."

"I saw you enjoying it," I said, picking up my purse. "Shall we?"

As we walked out, his phone rang. His arrogant posture instantly shifted into eager deference.

"Mom... Yeah, we just finished dinner... Her?"

"She's alright. A bit unrefined, but I can train her... You're in town?"

"Sure, let me see if she's free tomorrow."

Hanging up, he turned to me with an air of command. "My mother wants to meet you. Lunch tomorrow. Be ready."

"I have a meeting with a client tomorrow at noon—"

"Cancel it," Derek cut me off. "What client could possibly be more important than my mother? Eleven o'clock tomorrow, I'll pick you up in front of your office."

"And dress appropriately this time. Don't wear something like this."

He drove me back to the cramped, dilapidated apartment complex where I supposedly lived.

Looking out at the dimly lit, crumbling stairwell, he let out a heavy sigh.

"Move out as soon as possible. How does anyone even live here? Once we're married, you can stay at my bachelor pad while the new house gets renovated."

I smiled, thanked him, and headed upstairs.

Inside the modest, fifty-square-meter flat—which actually sat on a hyper-prime piece of Manhattan land worth over ten million dollars—my phone buzzed.

It was a text from my executive assistant.

"Ms. Vance, regarding the 10:00 AM investment pitch tomorrow with Apex Dynamics and their CEO, Richard Cole—should we reschedule?"

I typed back: "Keep it as scheduled. Also, run a comprehensive background check on Derek Cole's mother, Eleanor. I want every single detail."

"Right away, Ms. Vance."

Derek had no idea that Apex Dynamics—the tech startup he and his father were desperate to save—had its fate resting entirely in the hands of the "four-thousand-a-month" girl he wanted to domesticate.