Chapter Three

Paige

The contract is heavier than it should be.

Not in weight, there are barely a dozen pages but in meaning. In consequence. In the quiet way my entire future seems to be pressed between two thin sheets of paper.

My name is printed neatly at the top of the first page.

Paige Harper.

Seeing it there makes my stomach twist. It looks too official. Too final. Like a gravestone inscription waiting to be filled.

I swallow and force myself to read.

At first, it’s exactly what I expect. Legal language. Dense paragraphs. Words like mutual agreement, public representation, duration. My heart pounds, but I manage to breathe through it.

This is supposed to be fake, controlled, temporary.

Then I turn the page.

Clause 4.2: Residency

My eyes skim the words once, twice then slow as understanding crashes into me.

Ms. Harper will relocate to Mr. De Luca’s primary residence within twenty four (24) hours of signing this agreement. I stop breathing when I see it, relocate. Not visits. Not appearances. Move in with him.

My fingers tighten around the paper. I glance up at Dante, half expecting him to say something. To clarify. To soften it.

He doesn’t.

He sits behind his desk, composed, watching me with an unreadable expression, like a man observing a predictable outcome. My pulse races as I read on.

Clause 4.3: Living Arrangements

For the duration of the engagement, both parties will share a bedroom to maintain authenticity.

My vision blurs as I continue, Share a bedroom, Share a bed.

Heat rushes to my face, humiliation and shock tangling in my chest. This wasn’t what I thought this wasn’t a performance. This was possession.

I flip the page faster now, panic clawing its way up my throat.

Clause 5.1: Exclusivity

Ms. Harper agrees to abstain from all romantic, emotional, or sexual relationships outside of Mr. De Luca for the duration of the contract.

My hands begin to shake.

Dante de Luca is not just buying my body.

He’s claiming everything.

Clause 6.4: Public Conduct

Public displays of affection will be mandatory when required, including but not limited to hand holding, physical proximity, and kissing.

I feel sick, Mandatory affection.

There is nothing fake about this.

I lower the contract slowly, my heart hammering so violently it feels like it might tear free from my chest. The office feels too small now, the glass walls closing in, the city beyond them suddenly unreachable.

“This isn’t, this isn’t an engagement,” I whisper. “This is”

“A solution,” Dante says calmly.

I snap my head up. “No.”

The word tears out of me, sharp and broken.

“This is ownership,” I say, my voice trembling despite my efforts to control it. “You are not asking me to play a role. You’ are asking me to give up my life.”

He tilts his head slightly, studying me. “You are free to refuse.”

The words sound reasonable. They are anything but.

“And then what?” I demand. “You correct the narrative? Ruin me publicly? Destroy my chances of adopting her?”

“That would be the natural consequence,” he says evenly.

Something inside me cracks.

I push back from the desk and stand, my legs unsteady, my hands clenched at my sides. “I am not for sale,” I say, my voice breaking. “I’m a human being, not a commodity you can buy because it’s convenient.”

For the first time since I walked into this office, my composure shatters.

Tears blur my vision, hot and unstoppable. I hate that he’s seeing this. Hate that I’m giving him something so raw, so vulnerable.

“I lost my best friend,” I say, the words tumbling out of me. “I promised her I would protect her child. That’s all I’m trying to do. I’m not trying to trap you or use you or”

I choke, pressing a hand to my chest.

“I just want to keep her.”

Silence fills the room.

Dante doesn’t move, he doesn’t soften either. He doesn’t look away.

When he speaks, his voice is calm, almost gentle, which somehow makes it worse.

“Paige,” he says. “You need to remove emotion from this.”

The words hit harder than a slap.

I stare at him, stunned. “What?”

“This situation,” he continues evenly, “requires logic, not feelings. Emotion clouds judgment. It weakens resolve.”

My chest heaves. “You are talking about my life.”

“I’m talking about an agreement,” he corrects.

Tears spill over now, sliding down my cheeks unchecked. “I’m talking about a child.”

“And I’m talking about leverage,” he says without hesitation.

The brutality of it steals my breath.

“You think I don’t know what this costs you?” he asks. “I do. I simply don’t consider it irrelevant.”

Something cold settles in my stomach.

This is who he is. This is who he will always be. 

Not cruel in the way monsters are cruel, loud and violent but in the way power is cruel. Quiet. Absolute. Unconcerned with collateral damage.

“I can’t do this,” I whisper.

I turn toward the door, my hands shaking as I reach for the handle. I don’t care what happens to me anymore. I will find another way. I will fight. I will beg.

I just need to get out, My phone rings.

The sound slices through the room like a blade and I freeze.

My heart stutters as I glance at the screen.

Foster Care Services

Dread pools in my stomach.

I answer with trembling fingers. “Hello?”

“Ms. Harper,” a woman says gently. “I’m calling regarding the placement.”

My breath catches. “Yes?”

“There has been an update,” she continues. “The other family has completed their final checks.”

The room seems to tilt.

“They would like to take the baby home tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

The word echoes in my skull, loud and devastating.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper. “I was told”

“You were,” she says kindly. “But circumstances change. Married couples with full financial backing are prioritized.”

My knees threaten to give out.

“I need more time,” I plead. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “Unless your situation has changed, our hands are tied.”

My vision swims. I grip the edge of Dante’s desk for support, my entire body shaking.

“My situation has changed,” I blurt.

There is a pause.

“Yes?” the woman asks.

“I’m engaged,” I say. “The paperwork is being finalized as we speak.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

“I see,” she says. “In that case, we will place the file on hold pending verification.”

Relief crashes into me so violently I nearly sob.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you so much.”

I hang up slowly, my hands numb.

The room is silent again.

Dante hasn’t moved.

He watches me with the same calm expression, like a chess player who just saw the inevitable endgame play out exactly as expected.

I look down at the contract on the desk.

At my name.

At the empty signature line.

I understand now, this isn’t a choice.

My chest aches as I sink back into the chair, tears dripping onto the paper. I pick up the pen with shaking fingers.

“I hate you,” I whisper holding back the tears threatening my eyes. 

And just like that, I sign my life away.