Introduction
Sebastian Sterling, the mysterious billionaire from Manhattan's Upper East Side, a devastatingly handsome bachelor. He needed a wife in name only, I needed money—a perfect arrangement.
But as I lost myself in his tender gaze and caring touch, his ex-girlfriend's return shattered everything. Behind this mail-order bride arrangement lay a shocking secret—
My true identity was the only key to his billion-dollar inheritance.
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About Author

Agatha Christie
Chapter 1
Valentina's POV
Raindrops hammered against the coffee shop window, perfectly matching my mood—absolutely MISERABLE.
"What kind of service is this?!" The suit-wearing customer shot up, deliberately knocking over his coffee. The scalding liquid splashed onto my uniform, making me gasp in pain.
"Sir, I'm terribly sorry, I'll immediately—"
"Make a new one? Do you know how much this suit costs? Can you even AFFORD it?"
Customers around us turned to stare, some pulling out phones to record. My face burned with humiliation as I clutched the tray. I CANNOT lose this job!
As a Columbia University student working nights while attending classes during the day, I was already exhausted from juggling student loans. Worst of all, my stepsister Sofia needed heart surgery—thirty thousand dollars hanging over my head like a crushing weight.
Ever since our parents died in that car accident five years ago, caring for Sofia had become my sole responsibility. Born with a congenital heart defect, she'd been manageable when my stepfather and mother could cover medical expenses. Now it was just us two sisters, and I HAD to hold this family together. I HAD to save her!
"I believe a gentleman shouldn't treat a lady this way."
I looked up and froze completely.
The man standing before me looked like he'd stepped out of a movie. Six-foot-two, charcoal gray tailored suit fitting his frame perfectly, sharp facial features, and those deep blue eyes—mysterious as the ocean depths.
My heart inexplicably raced.
"Who are you? Mind your own business!" the difficult customer glared at the newcomer.
"I'm someone who doesn't like seeing the weak get bullied." He pulled bills from his wallet and placed them on the table. "This is enough to buy ten suits like yours. Now please leave."
Seeing the amount, the customer's expression shifted instantly, and he slunk away.
"Need help?" He turned to me, extending his elegant hand.
I stood stunned. "Thank you, but I don't need pity."
"I'm Sebastian Sterling. And you?"
Sebastian Sterling... that surname sounded familiar somehow.
"Valentina. Valentina Ramirez."
"Valentina..." He spoke my name softly, his gaze lingering on my face. "Why won't you accept help?"
"There's no such thing as a free lunch. Why would you help me? We don't know each other."
Complex emotions flashed in his eyes as he gestured for me to sit. "Perhaps... we could help each other."
Ten minutes later, we sat in a corner booth. My palms were sweating nervously.
Up close, he was even more devastatingly handsome. When he looked at me intently, those blue eyes seemed to see straight through to my soul.
"Have you ever considered that someone might pay one hundred thousand dollars just to see you wear a wedding ring?"
My coffee cup nearly slipped from my hands. "WHAT?"
"One-year contract, one hundred thousand dollars. You need money, I need a wife. Mutual benefit."
I stared at him wide-eyed. "Are you INSANE? We just met!"
But my mind raced frantically. A man who clearly screamed wealth, handsome as a magazine model—why would he need to PAY for a wife? He shouldn't lack female attention. Unless...
"How long we've known each other doesn't matter." He slid a check toward me. "Fifty thousand deposit—enough for your sister's surgery, right?"
My breathing stopped. I'd never told ANYONE about Sofia! Not even my Columbia roommate knew I had a stepsister.
"You investigated me?" Anger and fear surged through me.
"I needed to ensure I was making the right choice."
Wait... he specifically researched me. This was NO coincidence!
"Why me? You could find any woman. Why choose a poor student working in a coffee shop?"
His expression flickered with something unnatural before returning to cold indifference. "You meet my requirements."
What requirements? Low status? Easy to control? Or was there something I didn't know?
"What do you REALLY want?" I met his eyes directly. "What am I missing here?"
He stood up. "Tomorrow, 3 PM, Morrison Law Firm on Fifth Avenue. If you want the money, come sign the contract."
The next day, fortieth floor of the law office.
Standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan, everything here reeked of money. I felt completely out of place.
"Miss Ramirez? Mr. Sterling is waiting in the conference room." A gold-rimmed glasses lawyer led me inside.
Sebastian sat at one end of a long table with thick documents before him. Today he wore a navy suit, looking even more devastatingly handsome. He glanced up at me, his eyes devoid of warmth.
"You're here. Sit down. Let's begin."
The lawyer read through clauses: "Contract duration one year... one hundred thousand compensation... maintain separate lives... no interference in personal relationships..."
Each clause cut at my dignity like a knife, but simultaneously confirmed my suspicion—he truly only needed a wife in name. But WHY?
"Any questions?" He noticed my trembling hands.
"No." Thinking of Sofia in her hospital bed, I gritted my teeth and signed.
It was only one year anyway, and he'd made clear there would be no other demands. Whatever his purpose, I'd save Sofia first.
"Excellent." He signed as well, standing up. "Welcome to my world, Mrs. Sterling."
Mrs. Sterling... that title made my heart pound wildly. I didn't know if I'd just signed a check or a devil's bargain.
I'd become his wife.
Even if only in name.
Walking out of the law office, my legs still trembled. One hundred thousand dollars—enough to save Sofia's life. But what was the price?
What did this mysterious Sebastian Sterling really want? Why did it HAVE to be me?
Rain began falling again, matching my confused emotions.
I had no idea I'd just been drawn into a carefully orchestrated conspiracy.
Meanwhile, Sebastian stood before his office's floor-to-ceiling windows, holding a glass of whiskey, his grandfather's dying words echoing in his mind:
"If you want to inherit Sterling Corporation, you must marry Isabella Delacroze's granddaughter. That's my final condition."
DAMN that old man! Even in death, he controlled Sebastian's life!
Sebastian downed his drink harshly, the liquor burning his throat like the rage in his heart. He remembered his grandfather's cloudy yet stubborn eyes on that hospital bed, and that yellowed photograph—a beautiful Latina girl smiling tenderly, with "Isabella, my eternal love" written on the back.
Fifty years ago, the young Sterling heir had fallen in love with a Colombian immigrant's daughter. But class differences and family opposition meant Isabella married someone else. His grandfather never married, burying all his love and regret deep within.
"I lost her, but you cannot lose her bloodline." That was the old man's final obsession.
The board's old foxes were already making moves—if he couldn't marry before his thirtieth birthday, Sterling Corporation's control would slip from his hands.
And Valentina Delacroze—no, now Valentina Ramirez—was the key he'd found.
Remembering her trembling hands as she signed today, an inexplicable irritation rose within him. She looked so fragile, so in need of protection... just like Isabella in his grandfather's photograph.
"Damn it." Sebastian cursed under his breath, forcing himself to dismiss those thoughts.
This was just business. After one year, he'd get his inheritance, she'd get her money, and they'd return to their separate paths.
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About Author

Agatha Christie
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