FOUR

I.V

Chapter Four: Contract Marriage

POV: Sarah

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Claire’s thousand dollars suddenly felt like blood money. I muttered curses under my breath as I climbed the stairs to my apartment, still in her ridiculous red dress and heels. I barely noticed my neighbors’ wide-eyed stares at my polished, out-of-place appearance.

“What a day,” I groaned, unlocking the door.

Claire sat on my bed, legs crossed, looking far too comfortable for someone who had thrown me into the lion’s den. The second I stepped inside, the questions poured out.

“Finally! Sarah, how did it go? Did he reject you? You said we need to talk, I tried calling but it didn’t go through. Spill!”

Her bubbly tone grated on my already frayed nerves. I dropped onto the bed beside her and shoved the thick folder into her lap without a word.

“He wants a contract marriage, Claire,” I said flatly. “No chance to reject him. He just left me with his PA like I was some delivery. I did my part, I showed up. This marriage nonsense? Leave me out of it.”

Silence crashed over the room. Thick. Heavy. When I finally looked up, Claire’s face was pale with guilt.

My stomach dropped. “You knew. Didn’t you?” My voice rose. “You knew this wasn’t a normal blind date, it was already heading toward a marriage deal. That’s why he wasn’t surprised when I freaked out about the contract!”

Claire opened her mouth, but I was pacing now, bare feet slapping the floor after I kicked off the heels.

“What happens when he finds out I’m not you? Will he sue me for impersonation? I can’t even afford my dream restaurant, and now I’m staring at lawsuits I can’t pay! Or… did he already know I was fake? Is that why he pushed the contract?” My hands raked through my hair. “Talk to me, Claire!”

“I’m sorry, Sarah,” she whispered.

“Sorry won’t fix this!” I sat beside her again, grabbing her hands. “Call him. Explain everything. You reject him properly. Please.”

Claire gently pulled her hands away, avoiding my eyes. “I can’t do that.”

The words hit like a slap. “What?”

“My dad called earlier,” she said quietly. “Adrian agreed to become one of our company’s biggest shareholders. He invested a huge amount. And… he seemed pleased with you tonight. Maybe being his contract wife isn’t the worst thing. You could finally open that restaurant you’ve always dreamed about.”

I stared at her, stunned. “Are you saying you sold me off to a stranger just to save your dad’s company?”

“No! That’s not it,” she insisted, grabbing my hands again. “There’s no harm in it, Sarah. If he wanted to sue you for impersonation, he wouldn’t have invested in Dad’s business first.”

Before I could explode, my phone buzzed on the bed. Unknown number. I opened the message with shaking fingers.

Unknown Number: I waited to confirm you got home safely, Miss Claire. I expect your suggested clauses by tomorrow so we can proceed with the marriage certificate.

Terror flooded my face. I slowly turned to Claire, eyes wide.

“Is he insane?” I hissed. “How did he even get my contact information? I don't remember giving him any.”

Claire flinched back into the corner of the bed, shocked by my outburst, but I did not care. My chest heaved with panic.

“What am I supposed to do now? I don't even know him, nor do I like him, Claire,” I mumbled helplessly. I curled up on the bed, hugging my knees tightly to my chest. The weight of everything pressed down on me until breathing felt difficult.

Claire picked up the agreement file and began flipping through the pages. “Hmm. His terms seem fair enough on paper. No going out with another man during the duration of the agreement. You are to answer to his last name in public. You must appear with him as a couple at events. Unlimited access to bags, shoes, cars, clothes, and accessories. A black credit card with no spending limit will be given to you. You have his full support in anything you want to do, except being with another man. Any default on your part results in a one million dollar penalty f*e. No physical contact required. And lastly, you are to move into the penthouse to live as a couple under his roof.”

“What?” I shot straight to my feet, my pulse hammering. “Move in with him as a couple? 

Like we share the same bedroom? A million dollar penalty f*e? He has totally lost it. He is a psychopath. Where am I supposed to get that kind of money if I default, Claire? Do I even get to live my own life at all during this agreement?”

Claire patted my back gently, trying to calm me. “The penalty f*e is enough reason for you not to default, Sarah. And remember, he said you are allowed to add your own clauses too. There are real opportunities here if you look at it the right way.”

She was right. I had walked straight into this mess with no easy exit. The thousand dollars in my account now felt like chains instead of freedom. My dream restaurant, the one I had sketched plans for on napkins during late night shifts, suddenly seemed both closer and impossibly far away.

“Yes, you are right,” I whispered. “He said I could include my clauses.” My hands trembled as I picked up my phone and typed quickly.

Me: I want to add my clause to the agreement.

His response came back in less than a minute.

Unknown Number: See me tomorrow in my office. I will send Stanley to pick you up.

I stared at the glowing screen, my heart pounding against my ribs. Did I did the right thing by sending him a text! Tomorrow. His office.