Mouth open, mid-beer sip.
Then—“Wait. Hold on.”
Uh-oh.
He turns to Ash, pointing his can at him like a weapon. “You want tomarrymy sister?”
“It’s not areal, real marriage,” Ash says calmly. “It’s just for optics. PR.”
“Andyou,” Liam says, rounding on me now, “would you want to fake marry the guy who once got kicked out of a hotel for sword-fighting with mic stands?”
I open my mouth.
I do not have an answer to that.
Because, to be fair… I didn’t know about the sword-fighting. That’s new.
“I mean, heseemsmore stable now?” I offer weakly.
Liam groans and drags a hand through his hair. “You two are going to kill me.”
Ash, of course, looks calm. Unfazed. “Let’s talk terms,” he says coolly. “We’ll start with the money, since that’s important.”
“Go on,” Liam says, suspicious and grudgingly satisfied all at once.
Ash folds his hands. “There’s a monthly stipend. Generous, on purpose. Direct deposit on the first, handled by my business manager. A retainer up front so Olive isn’t out of pocket. I’ll cover all daily living expenses.”
Then he names a number that makes the room tilt.
“That,” I manage faintly, “is too much money. You’ll go broke.”
“It’s fair compensation,” Ash says evenly, his eyes locking on mine. “For your time and energy. For us being public. For the invasion of your privacy. You’d be living out of your comfort zone for a while. It’s not nothing.”
I worry my lip, thinking. “How public?”
“Public enough to work,” he says. “Some events. Photos, definitely. A couple of interviews where we look like we actually like each other—” one corner of his mouth curves, then straightens again. “And there’s a completion bonus.”
I stare. “Completion of… what, exactly?”
“As I said,” Ash replies patiently. “This would be a one-year marriage contract. When we part ways, you’ll receive another lump sum of five hundred thousand dollars.”
Liam cuts in, jabbing a finger at both of us. “Okay. If you do this—if youactuallygo through with this insanity—then there are rules.”
Ash raises a brow. “Rules?”
“No funny business,” Liam says sternly. “No feelings. No kissing. No looking at each other weird. Got it? If one of you catches feelings, I’m out. I swear, I’ll murder someone.”
Ash’s lips twitch like he’s tryingvery hardnot to laugh. “Understood.”
“Dead serious,” Liam adds.
Ash turns to me, face serious though his eyes give away the faintest glint of amusement. “I don’t want a serious relationship. I just want the optics of one. This is about appearances, nothing more. I don’t do feelings. I don’t swing that way when it comes to women.”
There’s a pause.
A heartbeat where everything goes still.
Liam rolls his eyes and Ash gives him a knowing wink—casual, teasing, like this is some long-running inside joke between them.
