Nancy wasn't exactly thrilled about flying to a private cabin in the snowy hills of Aspen, especially not for the purpose of pretending she was madly in love with Adrian Blackwood. But here they were—two suitcases, a very public boarding, and paparazzi who just happened to be at the private airstrip.
"We couldn't have done this somewhere warm?" she grumbled as they climbed aboard the jet.
Adrian smirked. "The snow makes it romantic. Or tragic, depending on how this goes."
"I vote tragic," she muttered.
Once in the air, Adrian slid her a hot chocolate—topped with real whipped cream and a tiny candy cane.
Nancy raised an eyebrow. "Are you bribing me with marshmallows?"
He shrugged. "Would it work?"
She took a sip, groaning at how good it was. "...Maybe."
---
Blackwood Cabin – That Evening
The cabin was ridiculously cozy. Rustic wooden beams, floor-to-ceiling windows showing off the snow-dusted trees, and a crackling fireplace that looked like it belonged on the cover of a romance novel.
Nancy glanced around. "This place screams honeymoon."
Adrian dropped their bags. "That's the point. We're supposed to look hopelessly in love. You ready to pretend I'm the man of your dreams?"
"Do I get hazard pay?"
He laughed. "Only if I survive your sarcasm."
They changed into flannel pajamas—because the PR team insisted on "relatable content"—and set up a few photos to post online. One featured Nancy holding a mug near the fire while Adrian looked at her like she held the stars in her eyes.
Too convincing.
Too easy.
Too dangerous.
---
Later That Night
They played board games, argued over rules, and somewhere between laughter and fake cuddles, something shifted.
Adrian watched Nancy laugh at her own terrible impression of his business rival. Her head tilted back, her eyes crinkled, and her guard dropped.
And just for a second, he forgot they were pretending.
Nancy caught him staring. "What?"
"Nothing," he said too quickly. "Just... you're different out here."
"You mean when I'm not defending myself against your boardroom power plays?"
"Exactly."
She looked at him. Really looked.
And then she said, "You're not what I expected either."
They were quiet.
Too quiet.
Snow fell gently outside.
Inside, something much heavier settled between them.
---
Meanwhile – Camille's Surveillance Van
Camille watched the cabin through long-range lenses. She frowned.
"They're comfortable," she murmured to herself. "Too comfortable. This isn't a scam—it's a slow burn."
She clicked her pen thoughtfully.
"If they fall for real... that clause won't help Harold."