The moment Eurydice Santiago stepped out of the limo and looked up at Conrad Montague’s house, she had only one thought:
This is not a home. This is a freaking estate.
She had expected luxury, sure.
But this?
This was obscene.
 
The Montague estate was located in one of the most exclusive gated communities in the city, a neighborhood so private that even the streetlights looked expensive.
Unlike the towering penthouses she had assumed billionaires lived in, Conrad’s home was a modern architectural masterpiece, blending sleek concrete, glass, and stone into something that screamed money.
A long driveway stretched before them, lined with neatly trimmed hedges and strategically placed garden lights, leading up to a three-story mansion that looked like it belonged in a luxury home magazine.
The massive iron gates at the entrance had already opened before they arrived—because of course they had.
The security here was next-level.
Probably had facial recognition or lasers or something ridiculous like that.
The limo pulled into the circular driveway, stopping in front of the main entrance, where a grand set of glass doors gleamed under the warm exterior lights.
A butler—yes, an actual butler—was already waiting for them, standing with perfect posture and an unreadable expression.
Eurydice stared.
Then, slowly, she turned to Conrad.
“So… Do I get my own wing of the house, or…?”
Conrad exhaled sharply, already regretting everything. “Just get out of the car, Eurydice.”
She grinned but obeyed, stepping out and taking in the sheer size of the place.
Yeah.
This was definitely a mistake.
 
The inside of the house was even worse.
Marble floors stretched beneath her feet, polished so perfectly that she could probably see her reflection in them. The high ceilings made everything feel even grander, and the modern chandelier hanging above the entryway was probably worth more than her entire life savings.
The walls were decorated with minimalist, high-end artwork, and the massive floor-to-ceiling windows let in a breathtaking view of the sprawling garden and private pool in the backyard.
Everything about the house was cold, sleek, and spotless.
And massive.
Eurydice turned in place, taking it all in.
Then she raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, I have questions.”
Conrad sighed, already walking ahead. “Of course, you do.”
She followed him, listing them off.
“One—how many people actually live here?”
“Just me,” Conrad said without looking back.
Eurydice paused, then looked around at the huge, extravagant space again.
“…You live here alone?”
“Yes.”
She scoffed. “You do realize you could fit, like, an entire basketball team in this place, right?”
Conrad didn’t respond.
Which meant he knew she was right.
 
The Grand Tour (Sort Of)
Eurydice followed Conrad through the ridiculously large house as he pointed out different rooms with his usual bored tone.
“This is the study.”
“This is the formal dining room.”
“This is the entertainment lounge.”
Eurydice squinted. “Entertainment lounge? What, do you host underground poker tournaments?”
Conrad ignored her.
They passed a massive kitchen—sleek, modern, and clearly never used—before heading upstairs.
When they reached a long hallway, Conrad stopped in front of a door.
“This is your room,” he said, opening it.
Eurydice stepped inside—
And immediately whistled.
The guest bedroom was larger than her entire apartment.
A king-sized bed sat in the center, covered in plush gray bedding, with a cozy seating area near the windows. There was a walk-in closet, a private balcony, and an en-suite bathroom that looked like something out of a five-star hotel.
Eurydice flopped onto the bed, sighing dramatically. “Ohhh, yeah. I could get used to this.”
Conrad leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “Try not to break anything.”
Eurydice lifted her head. “No promises.”
Conrad sighed. “Dinner is at seven. Don’t be late.”
He turned to leave, but Eurydice called after him—
“Wait.”
Conrad paused, looking back.
She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment. “I, uh… just to clarify, you really don’t care that my family and Amelia know this is fake?”
Conrad’s expression didn’t change.
“I already knew before you told me.”
Eurydice blinked. “Wait—what?”
Conrad gave her a look, as if it was obvious. “You wouldn’t have agreed to this without telling them.”
Eurydice frowned. “You assumed I’d spill?”
Conrad’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “I trusted that you’d only tell people you could rely on.”
Eurydice paused, slightly thrown by that.
She had expected… what exactly? Annoyance? Disapproval?
Instead, he had trusted her judgment.
It was a small thing.
But it caught her off guard.
She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “And if I had told someone who couldn’t be trusted?”
Conrad studied her, then said, “Then you wouldn’t be the person I thought you were.”
Eurydice blinked again, unsure if that was a compliment or some kind of weird billionaire mind game.
She finally muttered, “Well… lucky me, then.”
Conrad nodded slightly, then turned toward the door. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll discuss the next steps.”
Eurydice watched him leave, still processing the conversation.
Then, with a sigh, she flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
This is going to be one hell of a year.
 
The First Morning: Coffee, Chaos, and a Control Freak
Eurydice had no idea what time it was when she woke up.
All she knew was that she was way too comfortable.
The bed? A literal cloud.
The sheets? Ridiculously soft.
The temperature? Perfect.
For a moment, she almost forgot where she was.
Then—
She heard the distant clink of dishes and the faint hum of movement from somewhere in the house.
It all came rushing back.
The contract.
The fake engagement.
The fact that she was living in Conrad Montague’s house now.
Eurydice groaned, burying her face into the pillow. What have I done?
But her love for coffee won over her desire to hide in bed forever, so she eventually forced herself up, threw on a hoodie and sweatpants, and dragged herself downstairs toward the kitchen.
She didn’t expect to find Conrad already there.
Dressed in perfectly tailored slacks and a crisp white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to look effortlessly refined, he stood near the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup like he was in a damn commercial.
Eurydice, meanwhile, looked like she barely survived a hurricane.
Conrad glanced at her, taking in the messy hair, sleepy eyes, and oversized hoodie.
“…You look awful,” he noted.
Eurydice yawned. “And yet, I’m still more charming than you.”
Conrad hummed, clearly not convinced.
She shuffled toward the counter, reaching for the coffee pot—only for Conrad to suddenly pull it away.
She froze.
“…Did you just—” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you just steal my coffee?”
Conrad sipped from his cup, unbothered. “It’s not stealing. It’s mine.”
Eurydice stared at him. “I live here now.”
“That doesn’t change anything.”
Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
Conrad took another slow sip, watching her with an infuriatingly calm expression.
Eurydice scoffed, grabbed another mug, and poured herself some anyway.
They stood there for a moment, silently drinking their coffee.
Then—
Eurydice casually asked, “So… do you always just wake up this polished, or is there, like, a ritual sacrifice involved?”
Conrad exhaled sharply—the closest thing to a laugh she had heard from him so far.
“No sacrifices,” he said, setting his mug down. “Just efficiency.”
Eurydice snorted. “Of course. You probably have a morning schedule planned to the minute, don’t you?”
Conrad tilted his head slightly, watching her over the rim of his cup.
“…Don’t tell me you don’t.”
Eurydice raised an eyebrow. “Oh, no. I absolutely don’t.”
Conrad sighed, clearly judging her entire existence.
“You live in chaos,” he muttered.
Eurydice grinned. “And you live in boredom. Guess we balance each other out.”
Conrad didn’t respond.
But for a moment—just a second—she swore she saw something almost amused in his expression.
Then, as if catching himself, he immediately straightened, putting down his empty cup.
“Breakfast is at eight,” he said smoothly. “Don’t be late.”
Eurydice raised an eyebrow. “What happens if I am late?”
Conrad looked at her.
“Then you won’t eat.”
Eurydice gasped dramatically. “Did you just threaten me?”
“I warned you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, it’s on, rich boy.”
Conrad simply turned and walked away, already done with this conversation.
Eurydice smirked.
She had only been here for less than a day, and she was already making his life difficult.
Perfect.
 
Later that morning, after barely making it to breakfast on time, Eurydice had another thought:
What kind of person has an entire kitchen this big and doesn’t use it?
So, naturally, she decided to change that.
Which is how Conrad walked into his pristine, five-star-chef-worthy kitchen to find Eurydice standing in front of the stove, completely surrounded by chaos.
There was flour on the counter, eggshells next to the sink, and what looked suspiciously like a near-failed pancake attempt in the pan.
Conrad stared.
“…What are you doing?”
Eurydice beamed. “Making breakfast.”
Conrad’s jaw tensed. “We have a chef.”
She waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. But where’s the fun in that?”
Conrad glanced at the mess behind her.
“This doesn’t look fun.”
Eurydice flipped the pancake, nearly burning herself in the process. “It’s about the experience, Conrad. Ever heard of it?”
Conrad exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to burn the house down.”
She gasped, offended. “Wow. No faith in me at all.”
“I’ve seen your decision-making skills,” Conrad muttered.
Eurydice ignored him, focusing on the pancake.
A few minutes later, she placed two plates on the counter—one for herself, and, despite his absolute lack of enthusiasm, one for Conrad.
He looked at it warily.
“It’s not poisoned,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Unless, you know, my cooking is just that bad.”
Conrad sighed, finally sitting down.
He took a bite.
Eurydice leaned forward, watching intensely. “Well?”
Conrad chewed slowly.
Then—
“…It’s edible.”
Eurydice threw her hands up. “I knew you couldn’t compliment me properly.”
Conrad ignored her, taking another bite.
Despite his lack of enthusiasm, she noticed that he actually finished the plate.
Eurydice grinned to herself.
Maybe… just maybe… living here wouldn’t be so bad.
For her, at least.
For Conrad?
Oh, she was definitely going to drive him insane.
And she couldn’t wait.