Fake marriage. One year. No feelings attached.
When rare book expert Annabell Snow agrees to be rich architect Peyton Moody's contract wife, the rules seem simple enough. He needs a spouse to secure his CEO position; she needs the money to save her family's bookstore. It's a business transaction, nothing more.
But nobody warned her about his sun-warmed shirts that smell impossibly perfect, or how he redesigns her problems with the same intensity he brings to skyscrapers. And certainly nobody mentioned that his minimalist penthouse would become the backdrop for late-night conversations that feel anything but fake.
Between staged farmer's market dates, a relentless journalist who smells a story, and a honeymoon in Costa Rica that tests every boundary they've set, their carefully constructed arrangement begins to crumble. Because when you're pretending to be married to someone who looks at you like you're a priceless first edition, the line between performance and reality gets dangerously blurry.
Some contracts are made to be broken.
