INICIAR SESIÓN“A marriage contract?” John Walker stared at his parents, incredulous. “Are you serious?”
“John, my love, you’re long overdue to get married,” said Martha, his mother. “And you still haven’t had a serious girlfriend. If you don’t get married soon, your grandfather will hand over the Walker Group to outsiders. You know he’ll only transfer the presidency if you get married. Isn’t that right, Roger?”
“Your mother is right. You’ve already reached the pinnacle of the group; now all that’s left is the presidency.” Roger spoke as if he’d memorized the line.
Martha Walker Sinclair was an authoritarian, controlling, and strategic woman. Her husband, Roger Sinclair, was the complete opposite: calm, submissive, and devoted to his wife’s wishes.
Roger joined the Walker family driven by his love for Martha, thereby uniting the Sinclair business with the Walker empire.
With the meteoric rise of John, his son, Roger decided to resign from his position as director. He didn’t want to live in his son’s shadow, just as he already lived in his wife’s shadow.
“Mom, I’m not going to marry just anyone,” he retorted, irritated.
He really wanted the presidency, but not at the cost of marrying a woman who was only after his money—and, above all, without love.
Yes, John believed in marrying for love.
“That’s why we suggested a contract. Think about it: you get married, take over the group, and after three years, you’re free,” Martha argued. “No love, no emotional obligations. Just an agreement. And of course, a well-calculated compensation.”
The idea for the marriage contract came from Martha. John was about to turn thirty, still single, and without any serious relationship.
Martha feared that control of the Walker Group—a conglomerate operating in various sectors such as industry, manufacturing, energy investments, technology, AI, logistics, real estate, and even pharmaceuticals—would pass into the hands of administrators until one of the Walkers got married.
John was the eldest grandson, the only child of Martha and Roger. His sister Laura had two children: Claire, who was not yet eighteen, and Arthur, who, despite being twenty-five, had been dating for some time and had told his sister he intended to get engaged.
Martha saw a threat to her plans regarding John: if Arthur married first, he could become the Group’s primary heir, even though he didn’t seem particularly interested in the presidency.
Arthur liked to travel and enjoy life; he didn’t care much about business, and his position in the Group was simply because he was family, while John dedicated his entire life to the Group.
The patriarch, Oliver Walker, had been clear: he would only hand over control of the Group if John proved himself to be a responsible man, and for that, he needed a wife.
And Martha couldn’t see any suitable wife for her worthy son; she needed to find him a wife, and fast.
John had always been a level-headed and mature man for his age.
He finished his studies at nineteen and never let himself be carried away by flirtations or frivolous distractions, as many of his friends did.
Even after establishing himself as one of the country’s most notable and respected businessmen, surrounded by beautiful women vying for the attention of what was undoubtedly one of the nation’s most sought-after bachelors, John remained private about his love life.
No one knew for sure whether or not he was involved with anyone. To his family, he simply said he didn’t have time for relationships.
John even saw the point. A contract would prevent future problems. But he didn’t like the idea of marrying out of obligation.
John already had someone in mind—and probably in his heart. He had plans and was getting closer to a certain young woman, a girl unlike any other, simple, sweet...
But his mother kept talking without giving him a chance to say anything.
“Think it over, dear. She won’t be able to demand love or devotion from you. All she has to do is stay married for three years, which, let’s face it, wouldn’t be any sacrifice.” Martha spoke proudly, watching her son with admiration.
John was tall, standing six feet five inches, and had an athletic build sculpted by years at the gym. His square, striking face, firm chin, well-defined lips, intense black eyes, and thick black hair and eyebrows made for an imposing and irresistible appearance. He made any woman sigh.
“What high-society girl wouldn’t dream of marrying you?” Martha continued. “But we thought it wiser to choose someone outside our circle, someone below our standards, who would accept this marriage in exchange for a generous settlement and who, afterward, wouldn’t cause us any trouble. That’s why we chose Elizabeth Stewart.”
The name hit John like a bomb.
“Who? Who did you say?”
“Elizabeth Stewart. Do you remember her? That shy girl, the daughter of a small businessman. Their company is nearly bankrupt. This marriage would save the family. In exchange, the family would have a small share of the profits that would give them a modest life by our standards, but a comfortable one, and a settlement of a few million for her after it ends. A perfect arrangement.”
John felt his stomach churn.
“Mr. Taylor. This is a beautiful hotel. I imagine you have great affection for it,” said the man, in a slow, cold voice.Steve didn’t like the tone, but he maintained his polite composure.“Yes, sir. This hotel has been in my family for many years.”“And do you intend to remain the owner?” The question was laced with menace.Steve furrowed his brow, not understanding where this was going.“Of course. I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”“Great. So, if you want to remain the owner, I suggest… you stay well away from my wife.”The threat was now direct. Steve stared at him, perplexed. He didn’t get involved with any married women, much less the wife of a guest. He had plenty of opportunities for that. “Sir, there must be some mistake. I don’t know you, nor your wife.”“My name is John Walker.” The name was spoken harshly, as if to convey not only respect but also fear.Steve felt a jolt of recognition. John Walker. One of the richest and most feared men in the country, known for his c
Upon arriving at the hotel, John and Bruce went straight to the room used as an office. Bruce turned on his laptop, and a few minutes later, the information began to come in. The sound of the keys being pressed seemed to echo louder than usual.John stood there impatiently, pacing back and forth with his fists clenched. The image of Elizabeth smiling at another man had unsettled him so much that he couldn’t control his breathing, and his heart ached. “His name is Steve Taylor,” said Bruce, pausing briefly before continuing. “He’s the owner of the hotel where we’re staying…”John stopped pacing and looked at Bruce in disbelief, then let out a dry, bitter laugh, as if in disbelief. He ran his hand through his hair and then across his face, clearly distraught.“It must be the irony of fate…” he muttered, and began pacing back and forth again, like a lion trapped in its own cage. “Right here. Right under my nose. It must be to punish me; there’s no other explanation.”Bruce continued to
“Didn’t you manage to reach John?” asked Roger, who was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper and had overheard the entire conversation.“Your son is impossible,” said Martha, her voice choked with anger. “He left without telling me. Not even his secretary knows where he went. Can you believe it, Roger!”“Maybe he went to meet his wife,” said Roger calmly, folding the newspaper. “Isn’t she traveling?”Martha paused for a moment, deep in thought. That made sense, and the mere possibility made her even more uneasy. She stood up and began pacing back and forth across the couple’s private living room.“Ever since he got married, he’s changed completely. He’s blinded by that insignificant little woman.”Roger sighed, watching his wife with a weary expression.“Martha, dear… John is a grown man now. One of the most respected businessmen in the world. Why do you insist on trying to control his life like this?”Martha stopped pacing, turning to face him with eyes flashing.“I only want w
Elizabeth walked with grace and lightness, as if the world around her were in slow motion. “Wow… She looks so beautiful,” Bruce whispered, enchanted, before he could stop himself.John glared at him immediately. “I must remind you, Mr. Pratt, that she is my wife,” he said with a sharpness that made the assistant blush.“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.” He loved his girlfriend, but Mrs. Walker was truly very beautiful.Elizabeth looked stunning in a yellow dress with delicate white details. The lightweight fabric elegantly hugged her figure, and a sash of the same color accentuated her slender waist. Her hat, in the same shade, was adorned with a discreet white bow. Wherever she went, she drew stares, which she seemed to ignore completely.John’s heart was pounding, racing as if it were about to leap out of his mouth as he watched her approach. As he placed his hand on the door to open it, suddenly, an unexpected scene froze him in place.A man appeared with a smal
ElizabethElizabeth walked unhurriedly, with that serene air she’d always had, seeming completely oblivious to the fact that, at that very moment, she was being watched by watchful eyes, cameras, and agents strategically positioned in the vicinity… and by John.Her steps were firm, determined, yet gentle. She was heading toward the main street, where, just a few blocks away, was the restaurant, her new life project.On the monitor, John watched her as if the whole world had vanished. Her every step, every gesture, was like a stab in the chest, mixed with a fascination he had never experienced before. His eyes were fixed on her, unblinking.Elizabeth turned onto the street where the restaurant was located. She slowed her pace, studying the facade, and then went inside.“I’ll watch everything from my room,” John said. As soon as he left, John went to his room, turned on his computer, and followed everything that was happeningElizabeth was forging her own path; it seemed she was determ
ElizabethThe next morning, Elizabeth woke up early. The sun had barely broken over the horizon, tinging the sky with soft shades of lilac and gold. After a quick shower, she chose a light, floral dress with a small pattern in shades of blue and white. She pulled her hair back into a delicate ponytail, tied with a white ribbon, and, as usual, carefully adjusted her hat—her favorite accessory, almost a signature of her discreet yet elegant personality.She grabbed a small handbag, checked to make sure she had everything she needed, and left the apartment. As she crossed the sidewalk, she followed her usual route, passing under the leafy canopy of the tree that, unbeknownst to her, partially obstructed the view of one of the neighborhood’s security cameras.She walked lightly to the neighborhood square, where the small, cozy church stood. The clock on the tower read almost seven in the morning. While she prayed in the sacred silence, the investigators were already moving through the s







