A billionaire tech genius. A fake relationship. One problem—I might actually be falling for him.

Roman Norouzi needed a girlfriend—fast. His mother’s relentless matchmaking was reaching critical levels, and if he didn’t show up to the next family gathering with a woman on his arm, he’d be trapped in a dinner full of “eligible” women handpicked for him.

And me? As an independent gallery owner, I needed to look stable to impress a high-profile client. A relationship—even a fake one—would prove I was the perfect partner for a multi-million-dollar art deal.

So we made a deal.

 No real feelings.
No messy complications.
Just two successful adults keeping their lives in order.

Easy. Right?

Except…

1. Roman is charming in a way that gets under my skin.
2. One staged kiss feels a little too real.
3. And every time he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room, I forget we’re pretending.

His family adores me. My friends think this is the real thing. And worst of all? I’m starting to believe it too.

We had rules—rules meant to keep us safe. But now I see the man behind the witty charm, the one who listens when no one else does, the one who makes me feel like I belong.

Falling for Roman means risking everything—my heart, my independence, and the perfectly guarded life I’ve built.

We were supposed to end this when the deal was done. But the way he’s looking at me now?

Neither of us is ready to walk away.

The melodic clink of crystal and cultured conversations filled my sanctuary of contemporary art in the heart of chaotic New York City. The vibrant splashes of color that adorned every inch of the spacious walls felt both inviting and overwhelming, each piece telling a different story that I struggled to decipher. My sleek black dress and confident stride were a facade, hiding the nervousness and self-doubt that plagued me as I navigated through the wealthy and sophisticated guests.

Tonight was monumental; I was about to close a major deal with Mr. Hardwick, the discerning CEO of Hardwick Industries. Success would solidify my gallery’s reputation and lead to more high-profile deals, securing long-term success over daily fears of failure.

Britney, a friend and art enthusiast who now lives on the Upper East Side, appeared by my side. “Isabel, your event is stunning,” she said, gesturing to a striking painting on the wall. “Mr. Hardwick will be blown away.”

As I thanked her with a forced smile, my mind was consumed with doubt. Britney had insisted on boldness, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling that Mr. Hardwick’s expectations were impossibly high. My friends offered unwavering support, but facing Mr. Hardwick’s intense scrutiny left me with a knot in my stomach. I had to push past this fear and hope for the best, even as doubts gnawed at my confidence.

“Well, if anyone can impress that old money type, it’s aways been you,” Britney said with a wink. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see a waiter with a tray of those divine little crab puffs.”

Britney had struggled with her noble English in-laws. After Britney strutted away in her designer heels, I spotted Kelly standing near a towering sculpture made of metal pipes. Her fingers tapped furiously on her phone as she scowled at the screen.

“Bad date?” I asked, strolling up to her.

Kelly’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, a mix of annoyance and amusement in her expression. “You won’t believe this. The guy showed up dressed as a superhero and said he was here to save me from being single.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, at least he’s original.”

“Original is one word for it,” Kelly grumbled. “Honestly, these dating apps are ruining my life.”

“Maybe it’s time to try meeting people the old-fashioned way,” I suggested, gesturing around the elegant gallery space. “You never know who you might run into at an event like this.”

A spark of hope lit up in Kelly’s eyes as she surveyed the room. “You’re right. There might be some attractive men here tonight.”

As if on cue, the grand gallery doors swung open and the Nourizi family swept in, commanding attention with their designer outfits and confident air. Despite myself, I couldn’t help but be impressed by their effortless charisma, even among New York City’s elite crowd.

As Roxanne Nourizi swept into the gala, her silver hair shimmered under the chandeliers, and her custom-made gown hugged every curve. Her children followed behind, dressed to the nines in designer pieces. Arman, Cyrus, Warren, Gerard, Elon, Charles, and Kir all walked with confidence, accompanied by their equally successful spouses and more of my friends. Behind them trailed the younger siblings: Jeff and his lawyer wife Miley, Joel still wearing his sunglasses indoors and without his wife, and Adrien with the carefree attitude of a college student among adults.

Last Roman strode in next to his brother Xerses. Roman always had the light shining on him, as he exuded a quiet confidence, his tailored suit and polished shoes catching the light as he made his way through the chaos of the opening night reception.

Unlike his brothers who basked in the attention their family name brought, Roman carried himself with a subtle elegance that hinted at his own accomplishments rather than his family’s wealth. His piercing, dark blue eyes scanned the room, and when they met mine, I felt a flutter in my stomach.

Beside him was Xerses, Roman’s equally handsome business partner in their successful tech venture waved at us and Kelly excused herself. I stood transfixed. But while Xerses had a charming smile and easy charisma, there was something about Roman that drew people to him like a magnet. It was as if he held some secret power that set him apart from everyone else in the room.

There was an inexplicable pull between us that I couldn’t shake off. When Roman’s gaze locked onto mine in the midst of the bustling room, a pang of excitement shot through me. Despite my attempts to dismiss it as mere jitters for the event, I couldn’t ignore the rush of emotions that surged every time he approached me. Part of me wanted to resist, while another part yearned for more.

Just as he reached my side, Roxanne’s voice broke through the air. “Isabel!” she exclaimed, her arms outstretched for air kisses. “What a marvelous turnout. Your gallery is truly becoming the place to be seen in New York.”

I carefully accepted her greeting, making sure not to smudge her impeccable makeup. “Thank you, Mrs. Nourizi,” I replied with a polite smile. “I’m so glad you could all make it.”

Roxanne insisted on being called by her first name, though we went through this same dance every time we saw each other. “Now, tell me, dear,” she continued, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “any eligible bachelors here tonight? Any potential suitors for you?”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes as I watched Roxanne scan the room, her obsession with finding spouses for her single sons well-known in our social circle. “Sorry, Roxanne, but I’ve been busy lately. Focused on work,” I said, trying to divert the conversation away from my love life. But she was relentless.

As if summoned by his mother’s words, Roman appeared at her side. He was tall and handsome, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes that made my heart skip a beat. “Right here, Maman,” he said in a smooth baritone that sent shivers down my spine. “I was just admiring this new art piece. It’s quite striking, Isabel.”

A warmth spread through my chest at his compliment. “Thank you, Roman. It’s one of my personal favorites from this collection.”

Roxanne beamed, clearly pleased to see us interacting. “Oh, how lovely! You know, Roman is quite the art enthusiast since you came into our lives. Perhaps you can give him a personal tour later?”

Roman’s eyes flickered with discomfort at his mother’s blatant matchmaking attempt. “I’m sure Isabel has more important things to do than give me a personal tour of the art collection,” he said lightly, changing the subject. “Like securing that big deal she told me about.”

A warm feeling spread through my chest at his compliment and I couldn’t help but smile in response. “Thank you, Roman. It’s good to have friends that care.”

Roxanne beamed at our interaction. “Oh, how wonderful! You know, Roman is quite a sweet man. Perhaps its fate that you two are always thrown together?”

I noticed the slight tightening around Roman’s eyes before he answered smoothly. “I wouldn’t want to take up too much of Isabel’s valuable time, Maman.”

I shot him a grateful look. “Actually, I should probably go find Mr. Hardwick. If you’ll excuse me…”

Navigating through the bustling crowd, I couldn’t ignore the intense gaze of Roman burning into me. My heart raced with a mix of excitement and fear, unsure of what his intentions were. Every step I took felt like a leap into the unknown, yet I couldn’t resist the thrill that came with it.

Spotting Mr. Hardwick near a towering installation, his thick eyebrows furrowed in concentration, I mustered up the courage to approach him. “Mr. Hardwick, it’s an honor to have you here tonight,” I said, extending my hand. “I’m Isabel, the gallery owner.”

He turned to face me, his expression inscrutable. “Miss…?”

“Please call me Isabel,” I replied confidently, hiding any hint of nervousness. “I hope you’re enjoying our exhibition. If you’d like, I’d be happy to give you a private tour.”

Mr. Hardwick nodded slowly. “That would be acceptable. Truthfully, I was hesitant about coming to this event. Modern art is not usually my cup of tea.”

This event had been planned before I had wind that Mr. Hardwick needed a gallery. I allowed myself a small smile. “We strive to cater to diverse tastes and showcase a range of styles. Maybe I can show you classical and modern don’t always clash. Shall we begin with this piece?”

Guiding him through the gallery, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. As I enthusiastically shared my knowledge and insights about each work, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Roman’s presence lingering in the corner of my vision. My heart raced with the possibility of a deal, but with every word, I also felt the pressure to prove that my gallery was worthy of his patronage. This was my chance to make a lasting impression, but also a terrifying opportunity to disappoint.

“And here we have a piece that I believe will catch your eye,” I said proudly, stopping in front of a large canvas bursting with vibrant blues and bold golds. “The artist drew inspiration from classical techniques but reinterpreted them in a modern context. It’s a perfect fusion of tradition and innovation.”

Mr. Hardwick’s eyebrows lifted in genuine interest, the first sign of engagement I’d seen from him all night. “Fascinating. Tell me more about the artist’s process,” he said, leaning forward eagerly.

As I rambled on about my proposal, I couldn’t help but notice Roman’s presence in the room. He was chatting with one of my artist friends, but I could feel his eyes constantly darting towards me. When our gazes finally met, he flashed a supportive smile and gave a subtle thumbs up.

But as much as his encouragement filled me with determination, it also made me question if I truly deserved this opportunity. Doubts crept into my mind, causing me to stumble over my words. Was I really capable of securing a collaboration with someone like Mr. Hardwick? Suddenly, the pressure felt overwhelming and I struggled to regain my composure.

An hour later, as the last of the guests said their goodbyes, I felt a mix of exhaustion and elation wash over me. The event had been a resounding success, and Mr. Hardwick had hinted at future business opportunities.

“Well well, look who’s the star of the show,” a voice chimed behind me. I turned to see Roman leaning against one of the now-empty pedestals, a playful smirk on his face.

“Oh please,” I laughed, unable to contain my grin. “But it looks like Mr. Hardwick might actually be considering working with my gallery.”

Roman’s grin widened. “I never doubted you for a second. You were in your element tonight, Isabel. It was impressive to watch.”

A warm blush spread across my cheeks, and I quickly changed the subject. “So did your mother manage to set you up with any eligible bachelorettes tonight?”

Roman threw his head back dramatically and let out a melodramatic groan. “Oh, please don’t remind me,” he said with a pained look on his face. “I adore my mother, but her efforts at finding me a wife are becoming unbearable. If I have to endure one more ‘coincidental’ encounter with some eligible daughter of a family friend, I might just disappear and live as a recluse on a deserted island.”

I chuckled, surprising myself with how easily it came out. “Well, if you need an alibi for your sudden disappearance, you know who to call. I’m pretty good at creating elaborate cover stories.”

Roman grinned mischievously. “Thanks for the offer. But honestly, I might have to take you up on that sooner than you think. I overheard Maman discussing her next matchmaking scheme on our way out earlier.”

My heart went out to him. “Ouch. What’s her plan this time?”

He leaned in close, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Apparently, there’s a ‘charming young lady’ who just moved to the city, and Maman is already planning a ‘casual’ family dinner next week to introduce us.”

“And let me guess, you’d rather jump into a pit of fire than attend this dinner?” I raised an eyebrow.

Roman let out a deep sigh. “Honestly, jumping into a pit of fire sounds like a better option at this point. I just wish there was some way to get my mom off my back for a while and give me some breathing room to focus on work without constant pressure to find a wife.”

As Roman’s smooth words flowed from his mouth, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. His perfectly tailored suit and charming demeanor were just a facade. Beneath it all, I could sense the heavy burden of expectations weighing on him. It was a familiar feeling to me, one that I struggled with every day—balancing my own desires with societal pressures and responsibilities.

“It must be challenging,” I said softly, “trying to strike a balance between your family’s wishes and your own dreams.”

Roman’s gaze met mine, surprise mingled with recognition in his eyes. I’d never spoken much about my family, but it was like he knew anyhow. We stood in mutual understanding for a moment before he spoke again.

“You know,” he said quietly, “I don’t think anyone has ever truly put into words so clearly that struggle before. At least, not someone outside of the family.”

As I shifted my weight and avoided his gaze, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of insecurity. My whole life, my parents had drilled into me their expectations and aspirations, but despite my best efforts, I could never live up to them. Meanwhile, my younger sister was always the favored one – the golden child. It was a constant reminder that I would never be good enough in their eyes. But I couldn’t bring myself to share these painful thoughts with him. The rising heat in my cheeks betrayed my inner turmoil as I forced out a neutral response, “I can see where you’re coming from. In my experience, there’s always been someone telling me how to live my life.”

Roman nodded knowingly. “You don’t have to listen though. I love maman so I indulge her, but it can be exhausting, constantly trying to please others.”

“Sometimes,” I confessed, “I wonder what it would be like to break free. To do something completely unexpected.”

A slow smile spread across Roman’s face. “That sounds good,” he agreed. “I’m in.”

But before we could continue our conversation, Roxanne’s voice echoed through the room, calling for Roman’s attention. He let out a good-natured sigh as he excused himself.

“Duty calls,” he quipped and brushed my arm. “But Isabel… thank you. For understanding. And for putting on such a spectacular show tonight.”

My skin had goosebumps from his touch. As he turned to leave, he paused and looked back at me over his shoulder. His dark hair was tousled from running his fingers through it, and a hint of cologne lingered in the air around him. “You know,” he said with a playful smile, “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again soon. As the few unmarried ones left in this crowd, we’re bound to be thrown together.” I watched as he walked away, his long legs carrying him effortlessly across the polished gallery floor.

As he walked away, my mind was left spinning with both excitement and uncertainty. There was a certain electricity in the air whenever he was around, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was that drew me to him. Was it his captivating charm or his handsome features? Or was it something more profound, like the way he seemed to effortlessly understand my struggles to be taken seriously? Despite the thrill of our interactions, I couldn’t help but wonder if there were underlying motives behind his appreciation for art. Yet, I couldn’t deny the curiosity and longing building within me for our next encounter.

As I closed the gallery, my mind wandered back to the evening. The successful showing, Mr. Hardwick’s interest, and the Nourizi family’s dramatic entrance were a whirlwind. But what stood out were my conversations with Roman about our favorite artists and dreams for the future. It felt like a turning point moment, but only time would tell.

My phone buzzed – Hope apologized for missing the show but promised drinks tomorrow. With excitement, we made plans to celebrate together. As I walked out into the bustling streets of New York, surrounded by energy and possibilities, I felt a shift in the air. Maybe it was the success of my show or catching up with my friend, but something felt different.

Roman’s words lingered in my mind, tempting me with the idea of breaking free from societal expectations. But as much as I wanted to explore this enticing notion, I couldn’t shake off the potential complications it could bring. I hailed a cab and tried to clear my head, focusing on the stability I had built for my gallery. But Roman’s prediction of us seeing each other more kept resurfacing, igniting conflicting emotions within me. I knew we were meant to be just friends, but a small part of me couldn’t help but hope for something more.