9!The Clause That Can't Be Broken!

ZARA

I raced out of Matthew’s office, and out of the building, before I could do something reckless, like run into his arms.

My heart pounded, my hands shook. The cool air outside didn’t calm me; it stung my skin like ice. But I welcomed the sting. I needed something to pull me out of… whatever that was. Whatever he made me feel.

Coming back here was a mistake. I should’ve known better.

He still knew how to find my pressure points. And I let him.

I let him get close. I let him touch me… feel me.

I pressed trembling fingers against my lips, furious at myself. They still tingled. He hadn’t even kissed me, but it had been close. Too close.

“Damn it,” I muttered, sliding into the back of the car waiting for me.

As we pulled away from the building, I stared out the window. My reflection stared back, tired, confused, but mostly… hurt.

Why did he still affect me like this?

Why could he still see me in ways no one else did?

I hated that he was the one who gave me my father’s will. I hated how my chest tightened when he said he never stopped loving me.

But most of all, I hated that some small, quiet part of me still believed him.

I took the will from my bag and exhaled slowly.

Matthew gave me these documents for one reason: to manipulate me.

My stepmother might’ve hidden them, but still, I had rebuilt my life without them. Without him.

My eyes flicked to the letterhead at the top of the page.

Laine & Carter Law Associates.

At least it wasn’t affiliated with Matthew. Not directly.

I tightened my grip on the papers.

Was this really about my father’s wishes… or Matthew’s?

The words blurred for a second. I blinked fast. No. I wasn’t going to cry. Not again. Not over him.

I placed the will beside me on the seat and leaned back, closing my eyes.

I had fought to build a life again. One where the past didn’t chase me like a shadow.

And now?

Now I was being dragged right back into everything I tried so hard to forget.

I thought I was ready to come back.

I thought I could handle it.

But being in that office… looking into Matthew’s eyes again...

It brought everything back.

“Drive to Laine & Carter Law Associates,” I said to Evan, my driver.

He nodded, inputting the directions into the GPS. I tried to quiet the noise in my head, but nothing helped.

Maybe a massage would, but that would have to wait.

When I arrived, I walked through the doors of Laine & Carter and headed straight to the front desk.

“Hi, I’m here to speak to someone in charge,” I said.

The receptionist looked up at me with a polite smile. “You’ll need to make an appointment,” she replied.

I nodded. “I understand. My name is Zara Taylor. I was sent a will by this firm and…”

“Miss Taylor,” she said, her tone changing, half surprise, half curiosity. “Mr. Laine, one of the partners, has been expecting you. Right this way.”

I followed her down a pristine hallway. The walls were glass, the floors polished to perfection. Everything about this place felt cold. Controlled. Like no one ever made mistakes here.

My heels clicked softly with every step.

“Right in here,” she said, stopping at a door with Mr. Laine engraved in small gold letters.

I took a breath and stepped inside.

The office was spacious and neat. Bookshelves lined one wall. Sunlight poured in through tall windows. A man in his late fifties stood from behind the desk. His salt-and-pepper hair was neatly combed, and though his suit was expensive, it looked comfortably worn.

He smiled and stepped forward.

“Miss Taylor,” he greeted, offering his hand. “I’m Charles Laine. Please, have a seat.”

I shook his hand and sat. “Thank you for seeing me.”

He nodded. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Waiting?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. Your father was one of our biggest clients. It’s only right that we treat his daughter with the same respect.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” I forced a small smile. “I’m here specifically about a clause in the will.”

He tilted his head. “Ah, yes. The clause about your marriage to Matthew Russell.”

I blinked. “You know about that?”

He nodded. “Your father wasn’t just a client. He was an old friend. He confided in me.”

“About who I marry?” I asked sharply.

“He believed he was doing the right thing. Setting your future with someone who could protect you.”

“Protect me?” I repeated, nearly laughing. “I don’t need protection. Especially not from Matthew Russell.”

“I know what Matthew meant to you,” he said gently.

“Meant,” I corrected. “He’s nothing to me now.”

Mr. Laine paused. “I also know what he took from you. But don’t you think it’s time to leave the past behind?”

“Did you lose your mother young, Mr. Laine?” I asked.

His expression darkened. “No, I didn’t.”

“Well, I did. And Matthew Russell took that from me. Don’t stand there and tell me I should marry him.”

“I’m not telling you to do anything,” he said calmly.

I inhaled sharply. “How do I remove the clause?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he said. “The will is legally binding. And so am I.”

“You’ve never bent the law when it suited you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

His pause was answer enough.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I can’t help you.”

“More like won’t help me, because of my father,” I muttered, frustrated.

“May I give you some advice?” he asked.

“Go ahead.”

“I understand not wanting anything to do with Matthew. But if you want access to your father’s shares, you could marry him on paper. Nothing more.”

I laughed bitterly. “There’s no way I’m doing that.”

Mr. Laine didn’t flinch. He just looked at me, calm and steady.

“I understand,” he said. “You don’t have to decide now.”

“I won’t decide later, either,” I snapped. “You have no idea what it cost me to walk away from him. And now you’re saying I have to marry him again just to get what my father meant for me?”

“No one is forcing you,” he said softly. “But your father left very specific instructions. The shares, the trust… all of it is tied to that clause.”

I stood, pacing. “So it’s marry Matthew or walk away from everything?”

“That’s correct.”

“Maybe I will,” I said, heading toward the door.

“Zara,” he called gently.

I turned, and my eyes fell on a framed photo in the corner of his office. My breath caught.

“Is that who I think it is?”

Mr. Laine looked down, then nodded. “Yes. Mr. Russell is one of our biggest clients.”

“Of course he is,” I muttered, turning away.