The Agreement

For a glorious moment, Aria forgot where she was when she woke up to sunlight pouring through windows that reached the ceiling.

Then reality set in.

Leon's penthouse. Leon's rules. Leon's world.

It was 7:47 AM on her phone. Throwing in sheets that most likely cost more than her security deposit, she had hardly slept at all. Every time she closed her eyes, she heard Leon say, "People don't love you more when you're small," and saw his face across the dinner table.

Her stomach rumbled. Coffee. Before confronting whatever new nightmare this day had in store, she needed coffee.

When she came out of her room in her pajamas—worn cotton shorts and an oversized college t-shirt—the penthouse became silent. On the chilly marble flooring, her feet were bare. She followed the aroma of something dark and delicious as she padded toward the kitchen.

Leon was already wearing another flawless suit as he stood at the espresso machine. This time, it's navy, a clean white shirt, and no tie yet. The shower had left his hair wet. He appeared as though he had just stepped out of a cologne commercial.

It was as if Aria had crawled out of a trash can.

"Good morning," she said, lingering in the doorway.

Leon gave her a quick look. His gaze moved from her dishevelled bedhead down her bare feet, staying there for a few moments before returning to her face.

"Coffee?" Without waiting for her response, he took out a second cup from the cabinet.

"Yes. Please. Thank you." "Pick one. You don't need all three."

Aria suppressed a grin. "Coffee, please."

He made it the same way he did everything else, using exact, effective motions that gave the impression that he had done it a thousand times.

Their fingertips touched as he gave her the cup. Only just barely. Just enough to give her arm an unanticipated jolt.

Aria almost spilled the coffee as she pulled back.

Leon arched an eyebrow.

"Careful." "Sorry. Just... tired." "The guest room wasn't comfortable?" "The guest room is perfect. I just don't sleep well in new places." Aria took a sip and nearly moaned. The coffee was perfect—rich and smooth with just a hint of sweetness.

"This is really good." "It's coffee. Not a religious experience." "You clearly haven't had bad coffee." "I don't have bad anything." He leaned against the counter, coffee cup in hand, studying her like she was a puzzle he couldn't solve. "Marcus will be here at nine with the paperwork." Right. The prenup. The contracts. The legal proof that this was all business.

"What kind of paperwork, exactly?"

"Prenuptial agreement, despite the fact that it is currently post-nuptial. Provisions protecting confidentiality. Financial disclosures. The typical.

"I don't want your money, Leon."

"So you keep saying."

He took a long drink. "Sign the papers anyway. It protects both of us." "From what?" "From you trying to claim half my fortune when this ends. From me trying to control yours." His eyes held hers. "Neither of us is trying to use this mistake for profit." Aria set her cup down carefully.

"I don't have a fortune to protect." "Don't you?" The question hung in the air, loaded with something Aria couldn't quite identify. Did he know? Had he researched her? Discovered that she was actually the Hale heiress, not just the forgotten daughter? No. Impossible.

That secret had been buried too deep for too long. "I have about three thousand dollars in savings," Aria said. "A used car that barely runs. Student loans I'll be paying off until I'm fifty. That's my fortune." Leon's expression flickered. "Then the prenup will be simple. What's yours stays yours. What's mine stays mine. When we divorce, we both walk away clean." "Sounds perfect." "It's practical." He pushed off the counter. "Marcus will explain everything. Read it carefully before you sign."

"I will."

Leon reached over to the back of a chair and retrieved his suit jacket. "All morning, I have meetings. At eleven, Sophia, my helper, will arrive to take you shopping."

"I told you I don't need—" "And I told you that you do." His voice went firm. "This isn't negotiable, Aria. The gala is in five days. You need appropriate clothing. Sophia has excellent taste and my credit card. Let her help you."

"I don't want to be in debt to you."

"You have no debt. You're carrying out the conditions of our contract." Leon tucked himself into his jacket. "Everyone wins if you play the part convincingly. We'll both be miserable for the next six months if you fight me over every little thing."

He was correct. Aria detested the fact that he was correct.

"All right. Sophia and I are going shopping.

"Thank you." Leon started for the elevator but stopped.

"And Aria?" "Yeah?"

"Make an effort to appreciate it. Most women enjoy using other people's money.

Although his tone was more playful than nasty, the remark nevertheless hurt. The elevator doors closed, and he was gone before Aria could reply.

Wearing her tattered pajamas and sipping his flawless coffee, she stood by herself in his enormous kitchen, wondering how her life had become so utterly bizarre.

At precisely nine o'clock, Marcus showed up with a leather briefcase and an overly optimistic smile.

"Mrs. Mercer." He placed the briefcase on the dining table. "How was your first night in the tower?"

"Weird. Uncomfortable. Expensive." Aria had changed into jeans and a sweater, at least. "How do people live like this?" "You get used to it." "I don't want to get used to it." Marcus's smile softened. "I like you. You're different from the usual crowd Leon deals with." "You mean I'm poor."

"I mean, you're real." He produced a pile of papers. "The post-nuptial agreements are these. In essence, they specify parameters for the future breakup of the marriage, financial separation, and confidentiality restrictions.

Aria took a seat and began to read. Although the legalese was complicated, the purpose was obvious: Leon intended to ensure she couldn't exert any influence over his finances, business, or reputation. Her assets, ridiculous as they were, stayed hers in return.

There were clauses about public appearances. About maintaining the appearance of a happy marriage. About not speaking to the press without approval. About social media restrictions.

The actual knife was hidden on page seven: In the event of pregnancy, additional legal proceedings will determine custody arrangements, and genetic testing will be necessary to verify paternity.

Aria felt her stomach flip. "He thinks I might try to trap him with a baby?"

Marcus had the grace to appear uneasy. "Leon had previously been tormented. Vanessa once claimed to have been pregnant. Tried to use it to coerce him into getting married. Proved to be a falsehood.

"I'm not Vanessa."

"I am aware of that. You are aware of that. Leon is still getting used to it. Marcus bent over. "Look, I'm not attempting to justify him. This is brutal at times. However, he is defending himself in the only way he can.

"By assuming the worst of me." "By preparing for every possibility." Marcus pulled out a pen. "You can negotiate any terms you want. This isn't set in stone." Aria flipped through more pages. Everything was designed to keep them separated, isolated, untangled. Like Leon was already planning his escape before they'd even started.

"What if I said no? Refused to sign?" Marcus considered her carefully. "Then Leon would assume you're planning to take him for everything you can get.

It would confirm all his suspicions. And it would make the next six months a living hell for both of you." "So I don't actually have a choice." "You always have a choice. But some choices have better outcomes than others." Marcus met her eyes. "Sign the papers, Aria. Protect yourself. And maybe... give him a chance to see who you really are." Aria picked up the pen. Her hand hovered over the signature line.

This felt like giving up. Like accepting that she'd always be the girl no one believed in, the one who had to prove she wasn't a liar or a schemer or a gold-digger. But what was the alternative? Fight Leon for six months? Let him treat her like an enemy? She signed.

Marcus witnessed her signature, gathered the documents, and stood. "For what it's worth, I think you're making the right choice."

"Doesn't feel right."

"Give it time." He turned back after making his way to the elevator. By the way, Sophia is pleasant.

Let her spoil you a little. God knows Leon could afford to be less of a control freak and more of a decent human being." Despite everything, Aria laughed. "Does he know you talk about him like this?" "He encourages it. Says I keep him honest." Marcus grinned.

"See you around, Mrs Mercer."

The elevator doors shut, leaving Aria by herself once more.

She gazed out the window at the expansive metropolis. Her actual life—her job, her roommates, her meagre existence—was somewhere out there. It seemed so far away.

It buzzed on her phone. An unknown number sent a text.

Hello, Aria. This is Leon's helper, Sophia. I'll be there to take you shopping at eleven. I'm eager to meet you!

This catastrophe at least thrilled someone.

In fancy heels, Sophia proved to be a cyclone.

At precisely eleven, she rushed into the apartment, full of vitality, genuine warmth, and blonde highlights. She was perhaps thirty years old, and her carefree style made Aria feel like a crumpled potato.

"Oh my God, you're even prettier than Leon described!" Sophia embraced Aria as if they were longtime companions. "This is going to be so fun!"

"Leon described me?" Stunned, Aria asked.

"Well, he said you needed a complete wardrobe overhaul and that I should take you to the best boutiques in the city and not let you say no to anything." Sophia took hold of Aria's hand. "Between you and me, I think he feels bad about the whole mistaken marriage thing."

"He has a funny way of showing it."

"Leon humorously expresses all of his feelings. It's like witnessing a glacier trying to feel emotions. She was drawn to the elevator by Sophia.

"But trust me, I've worked for him for three years. If he didn't care, he wouldn't have called me personally at seven this morning to make sure I took care of you." That stopped Aria cold. "He called you at seven?" "Woke me up, actually. Very demanding about making sure you had 'everything you needed' for the gala."

Sophia had a knowing smile. "He's worried about you, even if he'd rather die than admit it."

Aria attempted to take it all in as the elevator fell. Was Leon concerned? Concerning her?

No. His reputation was a concern about how she would appear standing beside him.

This was just that.

"Where are we going?" As they got into a town vehicle that was waiting, Aria asked.

"Everywhere." Sophia had mischievous sparkles in her eyes. "I am aware of a few exclusive stores, like Saks and Bergdorf's.

We'll get you gala-ready and then some. Oh, and Leon said to bring you everyday clothes too. Something about you needing more than one suitcase's worth of belongings." Aria's face burned. He'd noticed. Of course, he'd noticed. "I don't need much—" "Aria." Sophia turned serious. "Can I be honest with you?" "Please."

"Leon has dated numerous ladies, as far as I can tell. Heiresses, socialites, and models. They all desired financial gain, social standing, or connections from him. They all engaged in gaming. She gave Aria's hand a firm squeeze. "He has never contacted me at seven in the morning to ask if I would be okay with you. You two are different, regardless of what this arrangement is or what brought you two together. So allow me to assist you. Not for him. For you.

Aria's throat tightened at the earnestness in her voice. "Okay."

"Excellent!" Sophia's enthusiasm came back. "Tell me everything now. Which style do you prefer? What gives you a sense of beauty? Which hues are your favourites?

Aria found herself conversing with Sophia as if they were friends for the next twenty minutes. About her time in college, her work in marketing, her passion for mystery books, and awful reality TV. Sophia answered questions, smiled when it was appropriate, and listened as if everything mattered.

Aria felt almost... normal by the time they arrived to Bergdorf's.

With its marble, mirrors, and salespeople who appeared to have stepped off a runway, the store was daunting. Sophia, however, pulled dresses, blouses, and slacks with practised ease, moving around the space as if she owned it.

"Try these." She gave Aria an armful of clothing. "Avoid examining the price tags. Just pay attention to how they make you feel.

Aria's bedroom in her previous apartment was smaller than the dressing room. She nearly retreated as she gazed at herself in the three-way mirror while still wearing her sweater and slacks.

Then she recalled what Leon had said: "Take up space." Make a noise. Be hard to ignore.

She tried on the first piece of clothing.

It was sleeveless, made of emerald-green silk, and had a neckline barely noticeable. Aria hardly recognized the woman staring back at her when she looked in the mirror.

She looked... elegant. Sophisticated. Like someone who belonged in Leon's world. "Let me see!" Sophia called from outside. Aria stepped out. Sophia's eyes went wide. "Oh. Oh wow." She circled Aria slowly. "That's the one. That's your gala dress." "It's too much." "It's perfect." Sophia met her eyes in the mirror.

"You look like you could own the whole room." Aria turned, watching the silk catch the light. For the first time since this nightmare started, she felt something other than small and trapped. She felt powerful. "We're getting it," Sophia declared. "And about fifty other things. Leon's orders."

The following three hours were spent in a flurry of shops. Sophia's taste was flawless; she chose things that somehow balanced Leon's world's demands with Aria's aesthetic. Silk blouses, fitted jeans, casual cashmere sweaters, and three additional dresses for different occasions.

And footwear. So many shoes.

"I can't possibly need all this," Aria protested as they loaded shopping bags into the car.

"You're Mrs Leon Mercer now. This is just the beginning." Sophia grinned. "Wait until you see the jewelry Leon has planned for the gala."

"Jewelry?" "Oh yeah. He has a whole vault of family pieces. His grandmother's collection. Ancient money, very traditional." Sophia's phone buzzed. She checked it and smiled. "Speaking of which, Leon wants to know how it's going." "What did you tell him?" Sophia typed quickly and showed Aria the response: She's perfect. Stop worrying. "You told him to stop worrying?" "Someone has to." Sophia hit send.

"He must relax. You might be beneficial to him.

Aria was at a loss for words. For a man who hated her, how could she be good?

Around four, they went back to the penthouse. Aria felt overburdened once more as Sophia assisted in carrying up the numerous luggage.

Sophia remarked, "I'll help you organise everything," as she made her way to Aria's room. "We'll get it all put away and—oh."

She had paused in the doorway, gazing at Aria's open bag that remained on the bed.

At the small pile of worn clothes. At the duct-taped laptop. "Aria." Sophia's voice went soft. "This is everything you brought?" "I travel light." "This isn't traveling light. This is..." Sophia turned to her, and there was no pity in her eyes.

Just understanding. "This is someone who's been making herself small." The words hit like an arrow. How did everyone keep seeing through her? "I'm fine." "You're surviving. That's different from fine." Sophia set down the bags. "But you know what? That ends today. We're putting all this new stuff away, and you're going to walk around this penthouse like you own it. Because legally, you kind of do." Despite herself, Aria smiled. "I like you, Sophia." "Everyone does. It's my superpower."

She took the emerald garment out. "Now let's make sure Leon's jaw drops when he sees you in this."

They organized everything for the next hour. Sophia had a system in place: work attire here, leisure attire there, and a gala ensemble at the forefront. She meticulously hung everything, giving Aria's wardrobe a magazine-like appearance.

Sophia took a step back to appreciate their work when they were finished. "Much better.

Now you look like you belong." "Do I, though?" Sophia faced her. "The thing with belonging is that it's not about the address, the money, or the clothes. It involves determining whether or not you are worth the space you occupy. She gave Aria a shoulder squeeze. Even though Leon is too obstinate to acknowledge it, he sees it. He is very defensive because of this. You frighten him.

"I frighten him? He is a CEO with billions of dollars in assets.

"And you're the woman who accidentally became his wife and didn't immediately fall at his feet begging for his approval." Sophia smiled. "Trust me, that terrifies him."

Before Aria could answer, the elevator chimed.

Leon's voice echoed along the corridor. "Sophia? Are you still around?

"We're in Aria's room!" Sophia returned the call.

Footsteps approached. Still in his suit, but with his top button undone and his tie loose, Leon materialized in the doorway. He looked across the room, taking in the shopping bags, the entire closet, and Aria standing in the center of it all.

"I see you had a productive day," he remarked.

"Sophia has excellent taste." His inspection made Aria feel uneasy all of a sudden.

"Sophia has my credit card and no self-control." However, the words lacked any heat.

"I stayed within the budget you gave me," Sophia objected. "Barely."

"I'm sure." Leon's gaze returned to Aria. "Did you get something for the gala?"

"The most beautiful dress you've ever seen," Sophia responded on her behalf. "She's going to steal the show."

"It's not necessary. She just needs to look appropriate." "She'll look stunning," Sophia corrected. "Which is better than appropriate."

Leon's face twitched with something. "I'm sure she will."

Although his words were informal, his gaze on Aria wasn't. There was a noticeable, swiftly banked heat there.

Aria's heart began to race.

Sophia responded, "I should go," and picked up her purse. "Leon, treat your wife with kindness. If you need anything, text me, Aria. I'll see you both at the gala, too.

Leon and Aria were left alone in the bedroom with their new clothes and unspoken tension as she walked out.

"Thank you," Aria muttered. "For sending Sophia, for the clothing. I am aware that you believe I am pursuing your money, but—"

"I don't think that anymore."

Aria jerked her head up. "What?"

Leon stepped further into the room, hands in his pockets. "I had you investigated last night. Background check, financial records, the works." Her stomach dropped. "You what?" "It's standard procedure for anyone entering my life." His eyes held hers. "You have three thousand dollars in savings, like you said. Student loans. A job at a small marketing firm where you're underpaid and overworked. No criminal record. No history of scams or schemes." Aria's face burned with humiliation and rage. "So you spied on me." "I protected myself.

There is a distinction.

"No, there isn't!" Anger overcame caution as she approached him. "I was treated like a criminal by you. Looked at me as if I were a threat. Because one woman broke your heart, you are unable to trust anyone else.

Leon clarified, "One woman tried to destroy my life," in a firm voice. "Forgive me for being careful."

Careful ask questions. This is paranoia."

"This is survival." The air between them crackled with energy as he drew nearer. "You want to know what else I found out, Aria?"

"What?" Refusing to give up, she raised her chin.

"You're quite intelligent. Your GPA on your college transcripts is flawless. You are multilingual. With a marketing plan you created, you alone prevented your existing business from going bankrupt." His gaze blazed into hers. "You're not a defenceless victim. You're capable and intelligent, yet you're totally wasted in that small flat with those unappreciative housemates."

Aria's rage wavered. "You... you think I'm brilliant?"

"I think you're dangerous." Leon's voice faltered. "Because it becomes more difficult for me to continue detesting you as I learn more about you. And, Aria, I must despise you. This is the only way it can function.

The honest and unvarnished confession sat between them.

"Why?" Aria whispered. "Because if I stop hating you..." Leon's jaw clenched. "Then this becomes real. And I can't afford real. Not again." He turned and walked out, leaving Aria standing in her new closet full of expensive clothes, her heart racing and her mind spinning. Leon Mercer had just admitted she was dangerous. And somehow, that felt like the most honest thing anyone had ever said to her.