Fake Marriage To The Undercover Boss

"Your profile picture was better."

Chadwick Boggs did not even look up from his phone when he said it.

Emaline Finley stood by the heavy oak table of Bellezza, the chill of the Manhattan autumn wind still clinging to her cheap blazer. She swallowed the immediate lump of humiliation in her throat.

She pulled out her own chair. The wood scraped loudly against the tile floor.

Chadwick finally glanced up, his eyes scanning her unbranded clothing with obvious distaste. He tapped the screen of his phone one last time before setting it face down.

A waiter appeared instantly, handing them leather-bound menus.

Before Emaline could even open hers, Chadwick snatched it from her hands.

"She will have the house salad," Chadwick told the waiter. "And I will take the Wagyu ribeye, medium rare. Bring a bottle of your most expensive Cabernet."

The waiter nodded and vanished.

Emaline stared at the empty space where her menu had been. Her fingers curled into fists under the table. Her nails dug into her palms.

"So," Chadwick leaned back, crossing his arms. "Let us get this over with. What is your annual salary? Do you have any savings? Any outstanding debt?"

The words hit her like physical blows. Her stomach twisted.

"I make enough to support myself," Emaline said, keeping her voice level. "I thought we might talk about our interests first. Books, maybe? Movies?"

Chadwick let out a short, harsh laugh. "Interests do not pay the mortgage on a Manhattan penthouse. I drive a Porsche. I need to know if you are a liability. You are already punching above your weight class just sitting here."

Emaline felt the blood rush to her face. The heat burned her cheeks.

"My mother is getting older," Chadwick continued, oblivious to her reaction. "If we get married, you will need to quit your job. You will manage the house and take care of her full time."

Emaline pressed her lips together. The inside of her cheek caught between her teeth. She bit down hard enough to taste copper.

"This is our first date," Emaline said. Her voice trembled, just a fraction.

"A date is an interview for a merger," Chadwick sneered. "With your age and your background, you are not exactly a prime asset. But if you are willing to move in for a trial period before the wedding, I might consider it."

The air in Emaline's lungs turned to ice.

She grabbed the linen napkin from her lap and threw it onto the center of the table.

"You are the most arrogant, repulsive man I have ever met," Emaline said. The words tore out of her throat.

Chadwick's face darkened. The smugness vanished, replaced by a nasty scowl.

"Walk away now, and you will die alone," he threatened, his voice dropping to a vicious hiss. "You will never find anyone better than me."

Emaline stood up. She grabbed her faux-leather purse.

"I would rather die alone than spend another second breathing the same air as you."