The rest of the day drifted by in a blur. I was hardly engaged, merely going through the motions of meetings, emails, and phone calls, while my thoughts wandered elsewhere. The weight of the contract I had just signed loomed over me like a dark cloud, the reality of my commitment settling in with each tick of the clock. That evening, just as I was about to immerse myself in work and find comfort in the familiar, my phone buzzed. A text from Carter. "Let's meet at the Rose Garden at seven. Don't be late." I stared at the message, my heart racing. The Rose Garden? I hadn’t visited in years. It was one of the most popular spots in the city—gorgeous, romantic, and always filled with people. Why there? Before I could reply, another message came through: "I'll pick you up at seven. Wear something nice." I took a deep breath, rising from my desk and pacing my office. This was our first public outing together. The first of many staged “dates” to make this farce of a marriage seem real. I had to remind myself that this wasn’t genuine. It was merely part of the arrangement. A business deal. Yet, as I approached my closet and selected a dress, I felt an unexpected knot in my stomach, a blend of nerves and excitement. I opted for a simple, elegant black dress—nothing too extravagant, but enough to leave an impression. By the time I was ready, the clock showed 6:50. I was just slipping on my shoes when my phone buzzed again. "I'm waiting for you downstairs." Carter. I grabbed my clutch and stepped out the door, my heart pounding. When I emerged from my building, I paused for a moment. Carter was there, leaning casually against a sleek, red McLaren. No drivers, no assistants—just him, standing tall in a semi-casual black suit that looked effortlessly stylish. The sight took me by surprise. As if he sensed my arrival, Carter looked up, his piercing blue eyes meeting mine. For a brief moment, his gaze held me captive.For a moment, his gaze dropped to my dress, and I could have sworn I saw a hint of appreciation on his face.

 Without saying a word, he moved around to the passenger side and opened the door for me, his movements smooth and confident. I slid into the car, and the tension between us was thick. The ride was quiet and intense. I could feel his presence beside me, but neither of us said anything.

My mind was racing, trying to process everything that had unfolded in the last 24 hours. As we neared the Rose Garden, I noticed something odd. The usually bustling streets around it were deserted. No cars, no people in sight. It felt as if the whole area had been cleared just for us. I glanced at Carter, and it dawned on me—he had reserved the entire place.

The Rose Garden, one of the city's most frequented public spaces, was completely empty. That level of influence was unimaginable, even for the richest men in the city. The car slowed to a stop at the entrance, and a guard came over to open my door. I stepped out, feeling a bit disoriented. 

Ahead of me was a large table set for two, surrounded by candles and flowers, with soft ambient lighting creating a romantic atmosphere. It was, without a doubt, one of the most stunning setups I had ever seen.