The first 24 hours of living with Conrad Montague had been a rollercoaster of chaos, judgment, and questionable life choices.
And now?
Eurydice was about to learn the rules.
 
After their eventful breakfast, Conrad had left for his home office, and Eurydice had taken the opportunity to explore the mansion a little more—which mostly meant getting lost in hallways that all looked the same.
By noon, a staff member found her and politely informed her that Conrad was waiting for her in the study.
Which was how Eurydice ended up sitting across from him, arms crossed, while he stared at her with his usual calm, unreadable expression.
“So,” she started, propping her elbow on the desk, “is this the part where you give me the official handbook on how to be your fake fiancée?”
Conrad sighed, setting down a black leather folder in front of her.
Eurydice blinked at it.
“Oh my God,” she muttered. “You actually made a handbook?”
“It’s a contract summary.”
She picked it up, flipping through the pages. “Conrad. This is literally a handbook.”
He ignored her. “We need to establish some rules.”
Eurydice sighed dramatically, tossing the folder back onto the desk. “Fine. Hit me with it, boss man.”
 
Conrad leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully.
“First,” he said, “we need to be seen together publicly at least twice a week.”
Eurydice tilted her head. “Ugh. Forced dates?”
“Appearances.”
“Tomato, tomahto.”
Conrad continued. “Second, you’ll be expected to attend any major events involving my family or business associates.”
Eurydice grimaced. “Great. More time with your parents. Love that for me.”
Conrad did not react.
“Third,” he said, “I expect you to behave professionally in public.”
Eurydice snorted. “Professionally? What am I, your employee?”
Conrad gave her a look. “Would you prefer ‘obediently’?”
Eurydice gasped, mock-offended. “Wow. Rich people are so controlling.”
Conrad exhaled. “And finally—” He met her gaze. “You will be moving into the main bedroom starting tonight.”
Eurydice choked on air.
“WHAT?”
Conrad looked entirely unfazed. “We need to be convincing. Anyone visiting the house will expect you to be staying in the same room as me.”
Eurydice stared at him.
Then she laughed nervously. “Oh, no. Nope. No way. I like my very large, very separate guest room, thank you.”
Conrad simply raised an eyebrow. “Do you expect people to believe we’re engaged while living in separate rooms?”
“…Yes?”
Conrad gave her a very patient, very unimpressed look.
Eurydice groaned. “Fine. But I’m bringing a pillow barrier.”
Conrad sighed. “Do whatever you want.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You better not be a blanket stealer.”
Conrad did not dignify that with a response.
 
After their meeting, Eurydice found herself in her next challenge:
The walk-in closet from hell.
Apparently, as Conrad’s fiancée, she couldn’t just wear her usual clothes.
Which is why she was now standing inside a massive dressing room, staring at rows and rows of designer outfits—all in neutral colors, all expensive, all terrifying.
A professional stylist, who Conrad had obviously hired without asking her, stood beside her with a perfectly polite smile.
“These are your selections, Miss Santiago.”
Eurydice sighed, rubbing her temples. “Do any of these scream ‘casual’? Or do I have to look like a fashion robot every day?”
The stylist hesitated. “Mr. Montague prefers a refined image.”
Eurydice groaned dramatically. “Ugh. Of course, he does.”
She grabbed a random black dress, holding it up. “What about this? Would this please the overlord?”
“Refined image,” Conrad’s voice came from the doorway.
Eurydice turned, narrowing her eyes at him. “You planned this, didn’t you?”
“I planned for you not to dress like a college dropout.”
Eurydice gasped. “That is so rude.”
Conrad glanced at her sweatpants and hoodie. “It’s also accurate.”
Eurydice crossed her arms. “You do realize I’m going to make this difficult for you, right?”
Conrad gave her a flat look. “I assumed as much.”
Eurydice grinned. “Good.”
Then, just to be difficult, she grabbed the brightest, most floral dress she could find and held it up dramatically.
Conrad stared at it, unimpressed. “You wouldn’t.”
Eurydice smirked. “Oh, I would.”
Conrad sighed, already regretting everything.
 
That night, Eurydice stood in the doorway of Conrad’s bedroom, arms crossed as she inspected the space.
It was exactly what she expected—massive, sleek, and completely personality-free.
The king-sized bed looked too perfect, like it had never been used. The furniture was all neutral tones, and the whole room smelled like expensive cologne and quiet suffering.
Eurydice narrowed her eyes.
Then, with absolutely zero hesitation, she walked in and threw three pillows straight down the middle of the bed.
Conrad, who had just finished getting ready, paused mid-step.
“What are you doing?”
Eurydice pointed at the pillows. “Territory lines.”
Conrad stared at her. “Are you five?”
She crossed her arms. “I just think personal space is important. And since I’m being forced into this arrangement, I will be establishing boundaries.”
Conrad sighed, rubbing his temple. “Unbelievable.”
Eurydice flopped onto her side of the bed, making herself comfortable.
Then, with a smirk, she added—
“Oh, and just so you know? I definitely steal blankets.”
Conrad exhaled, turning off the light. “Of course, you do.”
And as they both settled in, the reality of coexisting as fake fiancés truly sank in.
This?
This was going to be absolute chaos.
 
 
 
It was past midnight, but Eurydice was still awake.
She stared at the ceiling, arms folded under her head, mentally debating whether it was possible to force herself to sleep through sheer willpower.
It wasn’t working.
The house was too quiet.
The bed was too soft.
And worst of all?
Conrad was still awake, sitting up on his side of the bed, completely absorbed in a stack of legal documents like the most boring person alive.
The dim glow of his bedside lamp cast sharp shadows on his face, making him look even more serious than usual. His brows were slightly furrowed, fingers flipping through the pages with calm precision.
Eurydice sighed dramatically, rolling onto her side to face him.
“Hey.”
Conrad didn’t look up. “What?”
“I can’t sleep.”
Conrad kept reading. “Not my problem.”
Eurydice huffed, flopping onto her stomach. “You know, this is usually the part where a normal person would ask why I can’t sleep.”
Conrad finally glanced at her, expression completely unimpressed. “You’ve made it clear that you’re not normal.”
Eurydice gasped, clutching her chest. “Wow. Rude.”
Conrad went back to reading.
She pouted, resting her chin on her arm. “What are you even reading? Another Billionaire’s Guide to World Domination?”
Conrad didn’t react. “Company reports.”
Eurydice squinted at the small text on the papers, which looked like a mixture of legal jargon and financial data.
“…That is the most depressing bedtime story I’ve ever seen.”
Conrad sighed. “Go to sleep, Eurydice.”
Eurydice ignored him.
Instead, she rolled onto her back again, staring at the ceiling.
“Hey.”
Conrad didn’t look up. “What now?”
Eurydice grinned, knowing she was being annoying. “If you had to fight a hundred duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck, which would you pick?”
Conrad froze mid-page turn.
Slowly, he looked at her, brows furrowed in pure confusion. “…What?”
Eurydice propped herself up on one elbow, smirking. “You heard me. What’s your battle strategy, oh great and powerful businessman?”
Conrad stared at her for a solid five seconds, as if debating whether or not he should dignify this with an answer.
Then, with the heaviest sigh known to mankind, he said—
“The horse-sized duck.”
Eurydice gasped. “Wrong choice.”
Conrad pinched the bridge of his nose. “There is no right choice.”
“Of course, there is! A hundred duck-sized horses would be chaos! You’d be swarmed!”
Conrad sighed again, setting his papers down as if he had finally accepted his fate.
“The horse-sized duck would be worse,” he said, tone too serious for this conversation. “A duck that large would be aggressive.”
Eurydice grinned. “So you have thought about this.”
“I am thinking about it now,” Conrad muttered.
She laughed, kicking her feet lightly under the blanket. “Okay, next question—”
“No.”
“You didn’t even hear it!”
“I already know it’s pointless.”
Eurydice huffed. “You’re no fun.”
Conrad picked his papers back up. “And yet, I’m still more interesting than you.”
She gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. “How dare you?”
Conrad smirked slightly, flipping a page. “Easily.”
Eurydice pouted, rolling onto her side again.
Then, in a quieter voice, she muttered, “I really can’t sleep, though.”
Conrad glanced at her again, expression shifting slightly.
“…Why?”
Eurydice hesitated, playing with the edge of the blanket.
“It’s too quiet,” she admitted. “I’m used to hearing my mom in the kitchen or Leo yelling at his game. And Amelia constantly calling me for no reason.”
Conrad was silent for a moment, then said, “You’ll adjust.”
Eurydice sighed, turning onto her stomach again, muffling her face into the pillow. “I don’t want to adjust.”
Conrad watched her for a beat, then picked up the TV remote from his nightstand and turned on the screen.
Eurydice peeked out from her pillow, confused.
“What are you doing?”
Conrad flipped through channels until he landed on some low-volume, late-night talk show.
Then he set the remote down and went back to reading.
Eurydice blinked at the TV, then at him.
“…Is this your version of comforting someone?”
Conrad didn’t look up. “It’s background noise.”
Eurydice stared at him, then at the TV playing softly in the background.
The sound was kind of nice.
After a while, she sighed and snuggled deeper into the blankets.
“…Thanks, I guess.”
Conrad didn’t respond, but she swore he turned one page slower than before.
A few minutes later—
“Hey, Conrad.”
“…What now?”
She grinned sleepily. “You’re totally a blanket stealer.”
Conrad sighed one last time.
And somehow, despite everything—
Eurydice finally fell asleep.