The Heiress's Paper Husband

My grandmother's will requires me to be married in sixty days. It also requires me to stay CEO. Ellis Ward wrote the report recommending the board fire me. I fired him. Then I hired him back for something else entirely: a contract marriage, an expiration date, and one clause — neither party will fall in love. It was my clause. He read it twice and signed. For eight weeks we've been the most efficient couple in the building. Separate apartments. Joint tax filing. A quarterly review. It's working. Then I find out the hostile bid trying to take my company is being funded by Ward Capital. His family. His last name. The one he never used. He could have let me find out at the board meeting. He told me himself, in front of the room, out loud. Now there are two votes between me and everything I've built, a contract expiring at midnight, and a man I was never supposed to love sitting on my side of the table. I don't need a husband. I need a partner. It turns out I drafted the clause wrong.