Page 15 of The Prince's Green Card Scheme

I meet her eyes and stare deep into them. “Tell me you feel nothing between us. Look at me and tell me truthfully if you feel nothing.”

She stares back, her mouth open, but she doesn’t say anything. It’s the closest I’m going to get to a confession.

“Exactly. I’m not asking for love. I’m just asking you to help me out. And maybe we can see what happens from there.”

A long silence passes between us, the air crackling with a tension that I can’t name — half lust, half confusion, and one hundred percent uncertainty.

And her expression isn’t changing. I’m losing her.

Suddenly, I don’t know which idea is worse. Losing my chance to go home, or losing her completely.

“I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars!” I blurt, then wince. I should have brought that up more smoothly as well.

Chloe’s eyes open wide as she processes what I said. “You’ll dowhat?”

“A hundred thousand. I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars as compensation for having to put up with me. The marriage, it’ll just be a formality. I’m not asking for a ceremony, none of that pomp and circumstance. I just need the piece of paper. I promise we can take our actual relationship as slowly as you want, and if you don’t want it, we can leave it at that. I’m not trying to force anything weird on you, I promise. I just need something, and you can help me get it.”

“A hundred thousand dollars…” she echoes. “Seriously?”

“Take it or leave it,” I say, offering my hand to her.

If she says no this time, I’ll drop it.

My heart leaps into my mouth as she looks up at me again.

“This is crazy,” she says quietly. But then she takes my hand. “Okay. What the hell. I’ll marry you.”

CHAPTER 8

CHLOE

The second I get home, I fall into my mother’s arms.

She pulls me in tight and kisses my forehead, holding me without a word.

“Mom, I’ve done something stupid,” I say, my voice shaking with the sobs I want to let out.

“What’s the matter, baby?” she says, stroking my head. “We can fix it, whatever it is. You and me, together, like always.”

I squeeze her, breathing deeply. Already, I’m starting to feel calmer.

It might not be ideal to be living with my mother in my twenties, but renting in New York City is beyond expensive, and me and Mom have always gotten along well. We don’t agree on everything, obviously, and sometimes she’s so annoying I want to scream, but she’s always there for me.

I know she always will be.

“Oh, God,” I say, releasing Mom from the embrace so I can cover my face with my hands. Already this morning is starting to feel like a dream, and last night even more.

Mom looks at me expectantly, and I blurt it out. “I think I might just have agreed to get married to someone to get him a green card.”

I don’t know why I’m expecting to get told off for it — I’m an adult making my own choices, after all. But this feels like a teenage kind of stupid mistake to make. I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the lecture to begin.

Instead, there’s silence. I crack open my eyes. Mom has covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh. “You’ve done what?”

She guides me to the sofa, placing a hand on my shoulder. We sit down with a flop and she looks at me firmly. “Tell me what happened. Everything. I won’t be upset.”

I take a shaky breath, a tear running down my cheek. “I met this guy last night,” I start, and Mom raises an eyebrow but says nothing. “He was cute. I thought it might be a bit of fun.”

“And was it?”

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