Matthew carried her up to a room on the third floor of the villa and gently set her down.

Before she could get her balance, he wrapped an arm around her slim waist and teased, "Not bad back there. Want a reward?"

Serena shot him a glare and gave him a quick poke to the chest with her index finger, pushing him away.

Thinking back to what Vivian said at the dinner table about the will, and the conversation she'd overheard between him and David, Serena had a pretty solid idea of what kind of person Matthew was: part cold, part roguish, mostly manipulative, and undeniably handsome.

But deep down? Probably still a decent guy. At least he didn't leave her high and dry.

She relaxed a bit and joked, with a hint of drama in her tone, "As far as performances go, you win, hands down. That acting? Smooth as butter."

Matthew flopped down onto the couch, casually flipping open a magazine on the coffee table. "Likewise," he said without looking up.

Just then, a knock came at the door. "Mr. Quinn, the antacid and warm milk you asked for."

In the middle of their half-hearted flattery, the two exchanged a glance.

Serena immediately flopped onto the bed with an exaggerated groan of pain, playing along. Matthew opened the door, calm as ever, and took the medicine and milk.

"Get up," he said, nudging her gently, "drink the milk. We've got some real business to do."

She opened one eye warily. "Business? What kind of business?"

Ignoring her question, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the walk-in closet.

Turns out this place wasn't just big-it was massive.

She'd already thought the room was huge with the giant bed, the couch, and the bookcase. But the closet? A whole new level. Rows of tailored suits, crisp white and pale blue shirts, polished leather shoes in military order...

When he opened a drawer, she saw neat rows of ties, some paired with cufflinks packed in sleek cases. The layer underneath held watches, over a dozen of them, each sitting snug in its own velvet box.

Serena rubbed her eyes. Was she seeing this right?

This was a man's closet. And not just any man's. It was spotless, luxurious, and honestly, kind of jaw-dropping.

She was at a loss for words.

Matthew grabbed a white dress shirt and handed it to her, tilting his head toward the door across the room.

"For me? You're giving me clothes? Uh... but it's a guy's shirt?" she asked in confusion.

"Go take a shower."

Her eyes widened. "Sh-shower? Wait... what are you planning?"

Matthew shot her a look of pure judgment. "Ms. Dawson, so you just climb into bed straight from the street?"

With a sulk, she snatched the shirt and headed into the bathroom.

If she had to describe this bathroom in one word, other than "big," it'd still be "big." She was honestly out of energy to complain.

Her wedding makeup today was uncomfortable as hell. Normally she was all about that bare-faced life.

After making sure the door was securely locked, she pressed her ear to it-no sounds outside. Only then did she really relax and start her shower.

She was wiped. A long, hot soak was exactly what she needed to rinse off the chaos of the day.

Rich people's shampoo and shower gel were on another level-it all smelled ridiculously good. She couldn't resist playing with the foamy bubbles, giggling like a kid.

But her little bubble party was cut short by a sharp knock: "Thump thump thump!"

Freeze. "Who's there?" she called out, tense.

"You evolving in there or what? Hurry up already!" Even through the door, she could sense all the no-chill in his voice.

She rolled her eyes so hard they almost got stuck. "Sorry we're not all in-and-out like you guys, okay? And you, Mr. Quinn, being a whole thirty-something year old man, don't tell me you've never waited for a girl to finish up?"

No response. But Serena grinned to herself. "When it comes to talking back, I'm nearly undefeated. Hmph! Try rushing me again. Keep waiting!"

Another fifteen minutes passed.

Matthew didn't come knocking again, and Serena, finally done soaking, stepped out of the tub.

Before the bath, she'd been wearing a full face of heavy bridal makeup-her real features completely hidden.

But now, makeup-free, her bare face was on full display. Her big blink-blink eyes, long lashes, flawless creamy skin, small oval face, sharp nose, and pouty lips-maybe not a classic beauty, but definitely jaw-dropping at first glance.

Matthew got momentarily lost in her face.

Originally, he'd just brought her back to deal with Vivian. But now? Vivian wasn't going to give up until she saw a marriage certificate.

And with no better alternative, this girl seemed smart enough.

"What? You just gonna stare at me?" Serena tugged her robe tighter.

Matthew snapped out of it, going cold in an instant. "Take off my bathrobe."

"No way! Your shirt's too short anyway, I'm not-no."

He took a step closer, leaned down beside her ear, the corners of his lips lifting, and said softly, "You wanna see me come out of the shower naked instead?"

"You-" Her face flushed instantly as she shoved him away and dove under the blanket. Underneath, she wriggled out of the robe and flung it toward him.

Matthew picked it up with one finger and tossed it over his shoulder, smirking all the way to the bathroom.

She was honestly exhausted and fell asleep not long after.

But it felt like barely a few minutes had passed when a low, devilish voice came from beside the bed: "Get up."

She jolted awake, clutching the blanket. "W-What do you want?"

"I told you-we've got business to take care of." His tone was teasing, with a hint of something suggestive.

Serena instinctively scooted back. "Don't even think about it. I'll scream, I'm serious. You don't want Vivian finding out I'm just a last-minute stand-in, do you?"

She reached out trying to stop his approach, but accidentally yanked his robe open, exposing a whole lot of defined chest muscle.

Oh dear god. Absolute temptation on full display.

Good thing her heart was still full of Dylan Wood. Otherwise, she legit wasn't sure if she could resist making very bad decisions.

Seriously though, men with good looks and a hot bod? They could throw a trash bag on and still look expensive.

"You keep staring at me like that, I'm gonna start misbehaving," Matthew said with a smug grin.

Serena turned bright red, slammed her hands over her face, and stayed silent.

First time seeing each other post-shower, and it was as awkward as it gets. She had no idea how to deal.

"Okay, come sit over here."

She hesitated.

He didn't wait and just pulled her over to the bed, grabbed a blow dryer, and started working through her damp hair gently.

Even his voice softened. "Don't know how to use a hairdryer?"

Caught off guard by the sudden tenderness, she fumbled for an answer. "I... I wasn't sure where it was."

Once her hair was dry, Matthew pulled up a chair, paused briefly, then said seriously, "Alright, time to talk business."

"Business?" Serena blinked, her mind flashing back to everything that had happened today. Leaning closer, she kept her voice low. "Wait... you're not actually planning to marry me, are you?"

"Yeah. We're getting a marriage certificate." His tone was flat, not a flicker of emotion.

"No, no way. That's insane."

Serena shook her hands like she was trying to swat the thought away.

"We just met today. All I know is your name's Matthew, you're the CEO of some giant company, super rich, and obvious fact-you're a guy. You only know that I'm Serena, broke, and a runaway bride. Getting married? For real? I mean, I can play along if it's for a show or something, but this? It's way too much."

After she finally cooled down a bit, Matthew calmly said, "I need a marriage certificate."

"I don't, okay? Seriously, Mr. Quinn. Go find someone else-Emily, Jessica, Ashley, whoever. Just not me."

Matthew ignored her string of complaints like they were background noise.

"So what, you brought in a stand-in last minute just to bail on your own wedding, and now you're suddenly talking about marriage certificates?" Serena couldn't hold back anymore.

"Exactly. But since you showed up instead, I figured-why not switch it up." A barely noticeable smile tugged at the edge of Matthew's lips.

"Wait, what?"

Back to serious mode, Matthew replied, "You can name your price."

"You think I'm trying to scam you for money? Sorry, but marriage is supposed to be based on love and trust-it's not something you can just throw money at."

Even she was kinda moved by those words. Dang, did she just make herself tear up?

"And how do you know we don't have love?"

Matthew's eyes locked on her face, like he was trying to read every thought running through her head.

Caught off guard, Serena's eyes widened. "Whoa, don't get it twisted. Yeah, you're good-looking and rich, sure. But your personality? Super intense and icy. There's no way I'd ever fall for someone like you."

"You got a boyfriend?" Matthew raised an eyebrow slightly.

Serena awkwardly adjusted the blanket around her. "N-no."

She'd liked Dylan for six years! But they'd never made it official, so... guess he didn't count?

"This is just business. Given your situation, I'm guessing you'll need my help. Think about it."

Thinking about the debt her dad was drowning in, those thugs with knives at his throat, and that creepy 50-year-old dude... Serena went quiet. "You mean like, a fake marriage?"

"You could put it that way."

It's not like she had a better option. Sure, she ran off from the wedding, but that didn't magically erase the debt back home.

"Alright then. Let's talk conditions. And we're getting it in writing, right? Just verbal agreements won't cut it..."

Matthew reached into a drawer, pulled out a pen and paper, and handed them to her. "Write it down for now. Tomorrow my assistant will email you the official version. Once we both sign, it's binding."

Her brain was mush at this point-negotiating terms sounded like a recipe for disaster.

"I'm beat. Let's pick this up tomorrow," Serena said, giving a weak cough as she started to lie down.

"Tonight."

Matthew's tone left zero room for argument.

Serena gave him a look, half giving in. "Fine. I'll start. First off, we're only married on paper. You're not allowed to try anything funny." She started jotting notes quickly.

Matthew just stared at her face, like totally zoning out.

When she looked up, he immediately wiped the small smile off his face and went back to his usual poker expression. "And what if you're the one with funny ideas?"

"Excuse me?"

She blinked, completely thrown.

Did he just catch her sneaking a peek at his abs earlier? Oh God, was it that obvious?