I Faked A Marriage With My Nemesis

Synopsis

The chief legal officer from Grant Holdings, Allen Carter, said, "Ms. Brooks, due to your forged documents and the spread of false information that severely damaged Grant Holdings' reputation, you will be prosecuted. "According to the law, due to the substantial amount involved, you may face over ten years of imprisonment." The champagne glass in my hand dropped onto the carpet with a loud pop. Red wine splashed onto my ankle, like my heart was bleeding out. Ten minutes ago, I posted that flawlessly photoshopped marriage certificate on my social media, captioned: [Here's to the rest of my life with you, Mr. Grant.] The likes shot past a hundred in no time, and my dad, George Brooks, even sent me a voice message, promising to transfer those five percent shares to me at the notary's office tomorrow. Ten minutes later, Allen showed up with four guys in black suits, turning my living room into a fortress. I forced a couple of nervous laughs, trying to wriggle out of the mess. "I swear, it's a misunderstanding. I was, uh, doing some creative work," I said. "Creative work?" A deep, cold voice, dripping with sarcasm, came from the doorway. The four burly bodyguards instantly parted to clear a path. Alexander Grant walked in, rocking a perfectly tailored dark gray suit. Gold-rimmed glasses sat on his sharp nose, hiding those sly, scheming eyes. He approached with long, purposeful steps. With every step he took, it felt like he was tightening a noose around my neck. Without even realizing it, I kept retreating until my back was pressed against the cold wall. For four years in college, I was always gunning for his scholarships, and he kept blocking my shot at internships. We were the legendary rivals at Westbridge University. But I never thought that three years after graduation, my old nemesis would turn into the guy who practically ran Riverdale's economy. Alexander braced one hand against the wall by my ear, leaning in so close that the crisp scent of cedar completely enveloped me. His long fingers picked up a strand of my hair, idly twirling it. "Olivia, not only did you fake a marriage certificate, but you told the family you were carrying my baby?" My scalp went numb, and my breath stopped. "That was a tactical bluff." "Oh?" Alexander's voice lingered. As his fingers slid down my hair, they stopped at the side of my neck, his fingertips cold as ice. "Tactical, huh?" He gave a soft laugh, but his eyes were colder than a winter night. "So, should I help you out and make this tactic come true?" My eyes flew open in shock. "Alexander, don't do anything crazy! I'll take down the post and apologize, okay?" "Too late," Alexander pulled his hand back and, moving with deliberate care, took out a neatly folded sheet of paper from his inner suit pocket. It was the printed marriage contract I'd doctored. No, something was off. The stamp on it was real. It was the real Grant Holdings stamp. "Congratulations, Ms. Brooks." Alexander's smile stretched wider, but there was a wicked edge to it that made my skin crawl. "Since you're so eager to join the Grant family, I'll grant your wish. "From now on, you're Mrs. Grant. But..." His tone shifted, and his eyes turned sinister and menacing. "Since you're Mrs. Grant now, you'll have to fulfill your duties. "Like, pay off that 100-billion-dollar debt for Grant Holdings, or..." Alexander leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, but his words were utterly venomous. "Or be my dog."