006 *Bailey*

I twist the doorknob and I'm surprised as the door pushes open unlocked. Stepping in, I find Romeo at the center of the room, his back to me, his jacket discarded, and sleeves rolled to his forearms.

“Get out." He says before I can speak, his voice calm but firm.

Swallowing, I venture further into the room, hoping he's not someone who responds to disobedience with anger.

Slowly, he turns around, his stone-cold blue eyes zoning on me.

“I told you to leave." He said.

“Yes, I know. I'm sorry but we need to talk." I quickly say.

"About what?" His head tilts slightly. “You got what you wanted, didn't you?"

“Yes, but it's not that sim..."

“Then leave."

“I…I can't."

“Why not?"

I hesitate.

“Because your home… is my home now. For the next six months at least."

A humorless laughter leaves his lips, mocking and condescending. But his eyes remain on me, cold and blank. Eventually, he stops, leaning on his desk and crossing his arms. He nods.

“It’s not enough that you forced a six-month marriage on me. Now you think my home is yours too?”

“I didn’t force you.”

His brow lifts.

“No?"

“I just… I need those six months,” I whisper.

It took forever, then he said,

“I know.”

He turns away, dismissing me but I don't go. I walk around the room, my gaze drifting through the arts. Each of them calls to me, reminding me of the nights I stayed up wishing to create something half as good.

Romeo is a legend in the creative world. The way he balances global boardrooms with private canvases unsettles people. He's perfected the art of living a double life too well, and… that scares me.

Knowing he's not someone that can't be cornered into doing something he doesn't want to do.

Yet, I don't see any other way to do this.

“You're still here." He murmurs, drawing my attention from the gloomy sun to him. I pause, biting my lower lip as I glance at him. I hesitate, but eventually curiosity wins.

“What was in your head?" I whisper.

“What?" He mutter, turning back to me.

I force a small smile, pointing at the painting.

“It’s just… I've seen this many times but each time, I can't fathom what your thought process was while creating it.” I sigh, shaking my head. I squint at the art like I'm just seeing it for the first time. "It's just so beautiful and… ugly at the same time.” I murmur, glancing back at me.

I catch him studying me, his brows furrowed.

“That's the point of it; the contrast. Knowing that something so beautiful can also be ugly. For instance, you." He shrugs and I feel heat rush to my cheeks.

He just called me beautiful… and ugly too, I guess. But my brain chooses to focus more on the beautiful part.

“I take it you love art?” He asks and I nod eagerly.

"Yes, I want to be an artist.”

"Really? I think you'll be good at it. After all, you paint unreal scenarios so efficiently.” He scowls and I duck my head.

An uncomfortable silence falls over the room, making me nervous. I debate heading home for the night, and coming back tomorrow. Hopefully he'll be in a better mood.

“Why?" He asks before I can move.

“Why what?"

"You know what." He says, his blank expression contrasting his query.

I sigh, debating the best way to respond to him.

“I wasn't lying when I said I didn't think the marriage was real. I didn't do it intentionally.”

"But you're doing this intentionally.” He gestures between us.

"I don't have a choice.” I whisper and he squints.

"There's always a choice.”

My frustration spikes.

“Not when you’ve spent your whole life losing to the same person,” I fire back. “Not when something is finally within reach and you know if you don’t grab it, it’ll be taken from you again.”

He remains unfazed, if anything, amused, like my outburst is entertainment to him. My throat runs dry and I swallow.

Romeo walks towards me, stopping only a few feet away from me, his tall frame towering over me menacingly. He crosses his arms.

“So, to fight a villain, you become one, huh?" He murmurs, cocking his head. I open my mouth to speak but he beats me to it, his voice lowering. “Maybe, you should’ve checked whether I’m one first.”

A shiver runs down my spine.

“I don’t think you are,” I say, surprising myself.

“No?”

“Yes. I think you’re controlled, calculated and very aware of your power. But you're not a villain.”

His gaze sharpens.

“If I'm so powerful, why did you think it was wise to cross me then?”

“I don't know. I guess I was hoping we'd turn allies. That you'd see things my way.”

He pauses, seemingly considering my words.

“You lied about the kiss.” He murmurs.

“Not entirely”

“You manipulated my grandmother.”

“Yes.”

“You tied my name to yours publicly.”

My throat tightens.

“Yes.”

Another pause. Then he nods once, the decision settling into place.

“Fine.”

My pulse skips.

“You want six months?” he continues. “You’ll have them.”

Relief flickers in, and I begin to smile—

“But there are conditions.” He says, making my relief die just as fast.

“One, publicly,” he continues, stepping even closer, “we are united.”

“And privately?”

“Privately, you don’t lie to me or try to manipulate me or my grandmother.” His eyes lock onto mine, the intensity makes it hard to breathe. “No half truths.”

“And in return?”

“In return,” he says, voice steady, “I make sure no one in that family touches you. You get your revenge against them, whatever that is.” He shrugs lightly but the offer lands heavy.

“And this is… what?” I whisper.

“A pact.”

My heart pounds.

“But why? Why would you help me?” My big mouth betrays me before I can stop it.

He notices the panic in my eyes, smirking as he leans over me.

“Oh, I'm not helping you. I'm helping me." He smiles, straightening up. “Besides, if you're going to challenge someone as powerful as your father, you need to do it with someone who understands leverage and is equally as powerful, if not more than”

That’s too vague. And maybe a little cliche. I swallow.

“No. Tell me what you get out of this.” I insist.

His expression doesn’t change as he said “Freedom.”

The word is simple. Honest too, but also very ominous.

Freedom from what? Our marriage?

“Six months,” he continues. “We play the perfect couple and I let you do whatever you want to your family.”

“And after?”

His gaze darkens

“After six months, we decide whether this remains a contract… or becomes something else.”

My breath leaves me slowly.

“Do we have a deal, Bailey?” He asks.

My instincts say to run. But my brain says to stay. After all, this isn't an alliance about romance, it's about strategy and leverage, and for the first time in my life, I have some.

Forcing a smile, I extend my hand.

He looks at it for a moment, then takes it. His grip is firm and unyielding.

“Welcome to the family, Mrs. Lancaster.” He murmurs holding my gaze. “Now,

You're going to give me your virginity.”