Chapter six

The Weight of Deception

The morning after their tactical alliance was formed, Elias arrived at The Green Foundation with a small, discreetly logoed black box. He found Vivian in the shed, elbow-deep in fertilizer and focused on repotting a temperamental miniature Japanese maple.

Vivian wiped her hands on her jeans as he entered, her expression wary. "I told you, no grand gestures. We're keeping this low-profile in town until we make a public announcement designed to reach your father."

Elias ignored the dirt on her clothes and the defensiveness in her tone. He placed the black box carefully on her workbench, next to a bag of potting soil.

"This is not a grand gesture, Vivian. It's an essential prop," he said, opening the box.

Vivian inhaled sharply. Inside, nestled in black velvet, was a diamond that was less a stone and more a small, highly polished geological marvel. It was a classic solitaire setting, simple and elegant, yet the sheer size of the center stone screamed Thorne wealth.

"That's obscene," she whispered, instantly feeling underdressed in her work shirt. "Elias, I can't wear that. It's... a spotlight. I'll lose a finger just trying to lift a sack of mulch."

"You won't lose it," he countered, picking up the box and holding it out. "It's a Thorne piece. It has a custom internal tracking chip tied directly to my security system. If it leaves a three-mile radius of your home without your permission, I get an alert."

Vivian stared at him. "You put a GPS tracker in my engagement ring?"

"It's a highly valuable asset, and a necessary part of the deception," he said smoothly. "If Harold's people see a small, modest ring, they’ll know this is a flimsy, rushed attempt to cover up a secret. This ring represents ten years of longing and devotion, according to the narrative. It needs to look like I finally decided to give the mother of my child everything she deserved."

Vivian sighed, defeated by his brutal logic. "Fine. Put the tracker ring on the gardener."

He took her left hand, which was stained with dirt and scraped from thorns. He held it gently, his touch sending an unexpected, forgotten spark up her arm.

"The size is perfect," he murmured, sliding the cold, heavy band onto her fourth finger. The diamond flashed under the shed's weak fluorescent light, drawing immediate, undeniable attention.

"Welcome to the high-stakes game, Vivian," he said, releasing her hand.

That evening, after Leo was asleep, they sat in Vivian’s small, cozy living room—Elias looking impossibly large and out of place on her floral-print couch. They were drafting the rules of their "relationship."

"Rule one: Public affection is mandatory," Elias dictated, scribbling on a notepad. "In public, there is no distance. You are delighted to be engaged to me, and I am possessive. We have to sell this to the press, and more importantly, to Clarissa's network."

Vivian winced. "I draw the line at kissing. I will allow hand-holding. And maybe a chaste peck on the cheek if your father is within eyesight."

"Rule two: Personal space," Vivian added, pushing her hair back. "Your Inn is your home. My cottage is mine. You will not stay here unless we are hosting a known associate of Harold Thorne."

"Agreed," Elias said. "Though my security team will be running nightly perimeter checks, regardless. Rule three: Communication. We are a couple deeply in love, which means we must appear to be in constant, intimate contact. We will text throughout the day, every day, about banal, loving things."

Vivian stared at him. "Banal, loving things? We talk about the price of cement and corporate acquisitions."

"Then we will learn to talk about other things," Elias said, a faint, almost humorous flicker in his eyes. "We will be studying each other's habits, tastes, and schedules. It’s method acting, Vivian. And we’re both professionals."

"And Rule four," Vivian stated, standing up and crossing to the window to look at the dark ocean. "The moment Harold Thorne is neutralized, the moment Leo is safe, this ends. We go our separate ways, and you pay a penalty f*e to my business equivalent to your initial acquisition offer for the entire coastline."

Elias looked at the strong, determined line of her back. The ring on her finger felt like a heavy chain around his own neck. He knew this arrangement was a temporary fix for a problem he intended to solve permanently.

"Agreed," he confirmed, setting his pen down. "A non-disparagement clause will also be required upon contract termination."

Vivian turned back, her eyes meeting his across the dim room. The contract was signed. The deception was official.

"Good. Now, we just have to tell Leo that the rich stranger who plays chess is suddenly going to be his step-father."