The Billionaire's Silent Rose

Sharon's POV

The eviction notice seemed heavier than the paper it was printed on. With my fingers shaking and my chest constricted, I gazed at it.

I could still hear the landlord's icy, heartless voice saying, "You have until the end of the week to vacate the premises." The fact that my three jobs in two months had fallen apart like dust and that I had pleaded with him for an extension, which was of course insignificant. I was simply another failure to him.

I walked along the chipped sidewalk, pulling my luggage with me. Despite the pain in my throat, I refrained from crying. Not in this place. Not with strangers around. The prominent headline of a job posting, "Secretary Needed at Harrington Corp," caught my attention as I looked at the crumpled newspaper in my palm.

My final hope was that. I couldn't afford to be turned down again.

Memories flooded back as I sat on a bench trying to collect myself. My parents' laughter shattered my life, their tender embraces, and their tragic deaths in that catastrophe. Then came the betrayer, my dearest friend, Sophia. I felt completely alone now that she had stolen the last bit of trust I had.

"No," I said in a whisper while holding the paper firmly. "This must be successful, it has to. It will function.

I made the immediate commitment to dig my way out of this hole. I was resolved to prove myself to Harrington Corp., the most prominent firm in the city.

The sleek architecture of the Harrington Corp. building reflected the overcast sky, towering above me like a glass monster. As I entered the foyer with its marble floors, my pulse pounded.

"May I assist you? I felt even more out of place in my used blazer when the receptionist inquired with a polished grin.

I stumbled, "I... I'm here for the secretary position."

"She gestured to the modern elevator. 'Head up to the next floor. See you, Mr. Harrington.'"

My stomach rumbled. The CEO himself? Why would a person of Thomas Harrington's stature spend time on an interview with a secretary?

I entered a huge office that seemed more like a luxury suite when the elevator doors slid open. The air smelled like coffee and leather, and the floor-to-ceiling windows provided a stunning view of the metropolitan skyline. Thomas Harrington sat behind a huge wood desk.

He wasn't at all what I had anticipated. Piercing grey eyes, a sharp jawline, and an authoritative demeanour left my knees weak.

"Miss Peterson? He had a steely edge to his silky voice.

I nodded while clutching my portfolio tightly. "Yeah, sir."

He pointed to the chair across from him. "Take a seat."

I complied, attempting to control my breathing as he quickly read my resume. His face was still incomprehensible.

When we finally looked at one other, he continued, "Your work history is... colourful." In two months, three jobs? Would you mind explaining?"

I pushed myself to respond even though my throat was drying up. "Uncontrollable circumstances, sir. I don't give up easily.

Intrigued, he raised an eyebrow. "Interesting word choice. Why do you desire this position, please?"

I blushed after blurting out, "Because I need it." I mean, I think I can benefit your business. I'm reliable, diligent, and well-organized.

His mouth quirked, nearly into a grin. Nearly.

He whispered, "Loyalty is rare these days." Excellent. I'll give you an opportunity. Beginning tomorrow.

Startled, I blinked. "You mean that I was hired?"

Miss Peterson, I agree. But be aware that I expect excellence. If you fail, you're out.

A flurry of meetings, schedules, and copious amounts of paperwork characterized the first day. I was on the verge of passing out by the time the clock struck six. However, I was ready to go out when I heard Mr. Harrington's voice.

In my office, Miss Peterson. Right now.

With my pulse racing, I rushed inside. The fading light outlined his figure as he stood at the window.

Without looking back, he remarked, "You did well today."

"Thank you, sir."

He pivoted, his eyes meeting mine. But your clerical abilities weren't the only reason I hired you. I've got another idea for you.

Confused, I scowled. "I... I don't get it."

"I need a wife."

Like a thunderclap, the words lingered in the air.

"Pardon me? I thought I must have misheard him, but I managed.

"You heard me," he stated in a firm voice. "There is a contract in place. Just business.

Stunned, I gazed at him. "Why me?"

"Because you're desperate," was his direct response. "I also need someone that I can manage." You're ideal for the position.

A mixture of embarrassment and rage heated my cheeks. "I apologize, but I don't believe-"

He interjected, saying, "You should know that this is a life-or-death situation before you respond." For us both.

My mind raced. Death or life? What was the game he was playing?

"What exactly does it mean? With a stronger tone than I meant, I demanded.

He approached me with a commanding and captivating attitude.

His voice dipped to almost a whisper as he replied, "If you agree, I'll explain everything." "You have a day to make a decision. Either sign the agreement or go.

I wanted to shout and slap him for his foolishness. But his comments stuck in my head as I walked out of his office. Death or life.

I had gotten myself into what? And would I make it through whatever storm was coming?