A DEAL WITH THE ENEMY'S SON

　　His brows lifted, just slightly, as he regarded her with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "And why would I do that?" His voice was calm, low, dangerous.

　　Mia wouldn't let him scare her. When she decided to do something, she did it. "We both have one thing in common." She looked at him, noticing how he seemed to pretend he wasn't interested, looking away a little. But she knew he was listening. That was enough for now. "Shitty fathers. We both know our fathers are only interested in taking what's ours and giving to who they think deserves it." Mia continues, her gaze unwavering. " We've both been betrayed by them ." That seemed to get his attention. His dark eyes looked back at her, sharper now.

　　"The only difference between us is that you're an illegitimate child, and I'm not." The words hung in the air, a clear jab, reminding him they came from different places, and maybe a little bit of a challenge.

　　Stefan looked at her, really looked at her. Mia Meyers. The woman everyone knew was beautiful and smart. She had worked so hard to prove she deserved her dad's company. He had seen her last night at the party, it was broadcasted life. The fake smile on her face when her dad said that embarrassing thing. He had seen the anger in her eyes, like a fire that could burn everything.

　　They both had fathers who cared more about what they wanted than about their kids. But marrying her just for that wasn't enough. Not even close.

　　"That's your solution? A wedding band as a weapon?" He said ignoring the part where she just referred to him as an illegitimate child.

　　Mia didn't falter, instead she leaned forward slightly, making sure he couldn't look away. "They think they can dictate our lives. But together, we could build something that no one, not even them, could destroy."

　　His eyes narrowed, his sharp gaze now fully focused on her. "An alliance, then," he said, almost to himself. "But let's be clear, Miss Meyers. What you're asking is, for me to fight your battles."

　　She smirked, a flicker of defiance lighting her features. "I'm not asking you to do anything. I'm offering you a partnership. An empire they'll never see coming. We join forces, create our own empire that'll bring down theirs."

　　Stefan leaned forward, the edge of a smirk playing on his lips, though his voice carried the weight of finality. "One condition" he said, his tone low and deliberate. "If either of us dares to speak of divorce, they lose everything. The company, the assets, the empire, gone. No compromises, no negotiations. We burn it all to the ground."

　　Mia blinked, the impact of his words hanging heavy in the air. For a moment, Stefan thought she might falter, that her confidence might crack. But she didn't. Instead, she straightened her posture and nodded, her expression resolute.

　　"Fine," she said, her voice steady. "No divorces. No exits. I'm all in." Her father wants to destroy her life. She wouldn't give him the pleasure, she would destroy her life as she seems fit.

　　Still, Stefan held her gaze, searching for even the smallest hint of hesitation. There was none. Before he could say anything further, she tilted her chin slightly, as though gearing up for her own demand.

　　"But I have a condition of my own," she added, her tone firm yet measured. "I want a wedding that'll be remembered for years. Something grand. The kind of event that will have reporters camped outside for days and leave everyone whispering."

　　His smirk grew wider, a flicker of amusement sparking in his dark eyes. "A grand display of rebellion?"

　　"Exactly," Mia replied, her determination sparking to life again. "But it'll take weeks to organize the wedding I have in mind. So tomorrow, we register the marriage, make it official. Then we take our time crafting the perfect show." She paused, a defiant edge to her words. "If we're doing this, we're doing it right."

　　For a moment, Stefan didn't respond. He simply studied her, his silence as sharp as his smirk. "Practical," he finally said. "You get your spectacle, and I get..." He trailed off, letting the ambiguity of his sentence hang in the air. "Fine. Tomorrow, we register. But the rest? That's on you."

　　Mia's expression softened, just barely. "That's all I need."

　　She took a step closer, locking eyes with him. "And since we're tying the knot tomorrow," she continued, her voice casual but calculated, "I think it's only right that I stay here tonight."

　　Stefan raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not entirely surprised. "You're insisting on sleepovers already? Bold."

　　"Not bold. Logical," Mia countered smoothly. "If we're going to sell this story, we might as well commit to it from the start. Give me a spare room. I'm not asking for your bed."

　　His lips twitched, as though holding back a laugh. "Good. I don't share."

　　She ignored his remark, a faint smile creeping onto her face. "I can't wait to imagine the looks on their faces when they read the headlines tomorrow. Our fathers won't know what hit them. And the press? I'll give them exactly what they're hungry for."

　　Stefan's gaze lingered on her, assessing the fire in her eyes. He wasn't sure if it was the audacity of her plan or the determination in her tone, but for the first time in years, he felt genuinely intrigued.

　　"Follow me," he said finally, standing from his chair and motioning toward the door. His movements were unhurried but purposeful. "Let's make sure your accommodations meet your standards, Princess."

　　Mia raised an eyebrow at the nickname but didn't respond. She followed him through the quiet halls, her mind racing with the possibilities ahead. The game was already in motion, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt like she was playing to win.

　　Stefan, walking just ahead of her, let a small, private smirk tug at the corners of his mouth. She wanted rebellion, power, and spectacle. Fine. She'd get it. But he wasn't blind, Mia Meyers was a wildcard, the kind that could either take a plan to new heights or bring it crashing down. Either way, it was going to be one hell of a show.

ONCE YOU SIGN, THERE'S NO GOING BACK

　　Sunlight streamed through strange curtains, pulling Mia from her restless sleep. She stirred, her fingers brushing against the smooth, unfamiliar sheets. It didn't look anything like the one in her room. Everything around her felt foreign, the quiet, the gold furniture, the cool air. She sat up slowly, her mind foggy, trying to piece it all together.

　　It took a few seconds, but then it hit her like a wave. The party last night. Her father's voice. His announcement, clear and cold, as if he hadn't just upended her world in front of everyone.

　　Ethan. The hidden son she'd never met, the new heir to Meyers Industries. The anger in her chest began to rise again, clawing at her throat.

　　Her breathing quickened as more pieces fell into place. His suggestion in the office after the party, the way he had cornered her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. His plan for her, neatly wrapped up in his condescending tone: "Marry Julian Thorn. Solidify your place, Mia. It's for the best."

　　She shoved her hair out of her face and swung her legs off the bed. Her father's words hung over her like a storm cloud, the ache in her chest refusing to fade. The anger hadn't disappeared overnight; it had only settled, colder now, sharper. And Stefan Sterling, last night's impulsive plan, was the only thread she had left to hold onto.

　　Her feet touched the cool tile as her gaze flicked around the room. That's when she saw it. An emerald-green dress, neatly draped over the couch, its fabric glinting softly in the sunlight. She stepped closer, letting her fingers skim over the smooth material. It wasn't hers. She didn't need to ask who had left it there, it had Stefan's calculating touch written all over it.

　　The bathroom brought more surprises. The scent of lavender greeted her, mixing with the steam curling around the shower. Bottles of shampoo and body wash lined the edge, each one carefully arranged. Exactly the brand she uses, they hadn't been there last night.

　　Her stomach twisted, her hands pausing on the sink by the realization that someone had entered while she slept, moved through her space without waking her. Normally, the smallest sound would have pulled her from sleep. But last night had been different, seems like the weight of anger and exhaustion had drowned her completely.

　　Under the hot spray of water, her thoughts churned. Her father had stripped everything from her in a single moment, leaving her with nothing but an ultimatum. Ethan had stolen her birthright, and Julian was her father's solution to keep her obedient, tied to the family with no real power. She wouldn't allow it.

　　But Stefan? That was different. She didn't trust him, not for a second. His world was sharp-edged and unpredictable, and stepping into it would be dangerous. But this wasn't about trust or safety, it was about survival. It was about control, about reclaiming the power her father thought he could take from her.

　　When she stepped out of the shower and slipped into the dress, her reflection caught her eye. She stared back at herself, her face pale but determined, her shoulders squared. The pain hadn't disappeared, but the anger, the fire in her chest, was enough to keep her standing. Today, she would marry Stefan Sterling. And she would make sure her father regretted every word he'd said. She was going to prove to him that she could handle an empire despite her gender.

　　Mia stepped into the living room, the soft click of her heels against the polished floor breaking the silence. She was dressed in the emerald-green gown Stefan had left for her, paired with sleek black shoes. Her posture was steady, her chin slightly lifted. If they were going to be tied together after today, this space would become hers too. There was no room to act like a guest.

　　Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on Stefan, he stood near the window, his tall frame commanding even in the simplicity of his attire. A black tuxedo jacket, tailored to perfection, paired with sleek black pants. A cup in his hand, the steam curling softly into the air, and his eyes, fixed on the screen of his phone, sharp and unreadable.

　　She froze for a moment. He was handsome in a way that felt unfair, effortless. The light from the window played against his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. Her gaze lingered longer than she intended. Stefan shifted slightly, his focus lifting from his phone, and their eyes met.

　　The smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth was infuriating. He had caught her staring. Her cheeks flushed almost immediately, a warmth spreading that she tried to ignore. Mia cleared her throat, breaking the silence, and moved toward the couch, hoping he didn't notice how flustered she was.

　　As she lowered herself onto the couch, her eyes fell to the table in front of her. Two sets of papers lay there, neatly arranged. The bold lettering on the first one caught her attention. "Contract between Mia Meyers and Stefan Sterling." Her fingers hesitated before picking it up, the weight of it solid in her hands. But it wasn't the business agreement that surprised her. It was the second set of documents sitting beside it.

　　"Marriage registration" was boldly written on it. Her heart skipped.

　　She thought they'd go to the registry office, but the document was already sitting here waiting for her signature. When had he arranged all this? How had he pulled it off so quickly? The questions swirled in her mind, but before she could voice them, a voice broke through the quiet.

　　"Apologies for the delay, sir. Your meal has arrived."

　　Mia looked up sharply, her gaze landing on the man who had entered. She recognized him immediately. Mose. Always present, always watching, always close enough to Stefan that people whispered about his true role. Some said he was the assistant who knew too much, others insisted he was the bodyguard no one dared challenge. The truth? Mia didn't know, and judging by the unwavering calm in his demeanor, she doubted anyone ever would.

　　Mose placed a tray down carefully, nodding once toward Stefan, before his sharp eyes flicked to Mia. She felt the weight of his gaze, brief but assessing, before he stepped back. Stefan glanced over the table, seeming more interested in his coffee than the food, but his attention didn't linger there long.

　　Mia turned her focus back to the papers, the edges cutting into her palms as she gripped them a little tighter. The marriage contract felt heavier now, its presence looming like a reminder of the path she had chosen.

　　Stefan's voice broke through the tension, smooth and detached. "You'll want to read the terms carefully, Mia. Once you sign, there's no going back."