CHAPTER TWO

I didn’t give him the contract immediately. I signed it there and then though.

I read every line.

Adrian Westwood watched me in silence across the hospital lounge, one long leg crossed over the other, his expression unreadable. He didn’t rush me. Men like him never did. They were used to people saying yes before the offer was even finished.

“Page six,” I said without looking up. “Clause fourteen.”

He lifted an eyebrow, “Go on.”

“You reserve the right to terminate the contract if I embarrass you publicly.” I closed the folder. “That’s vague. Define embarrassing.”

A pause.

Most women, I suspected, would have smiled politely and let it slide.

I wasn’t most women.

Adrian leaned forward slightly. “Scandals. Disrespect. Disobedience.”

“Disobedience?” I repeated, amused. “I’m your wife, not your employee.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Then we are aligned.”

I slid the contract back towards him. “Change the wording. I won’t sign until you do.”

The air shifted.

For a brief moment, I thought he might laugh or walk away.

Instead, he reached for his phone. “Mark,” he said quietly. “Revise clause fourteen. Define public embarrassment as intentional damage to reputation supported by evidence. Remove subjective language.”

He ended the call and met my gaze.

“Continue.”

Interesting.

I turned another page. “Clause twenty-one. Curfew.”

“You will be attending events with me. I need to know where you are.”

“You will know where I am when I tell you,” I replied. “I don’t disappear. I don’t ask permission.”

Silence.

“Change it,” he said calmly. “Notification, not approval.”

I finally looked up at him.

“Why me?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away.

“Because,” he said at last, “you are desperate enough to consider this, and proud enough to survive it.”

I didn’t know whether to be insulted or impressed.

We signed the contract that evening.

The hospital administrator’s expression changed the moment Adrian’s name was mentioned. Paperwork moved faster. Smiles appeared. Money solved problems it had no right to solve.

My mother was scheduled for surgery within forty-eight hours.

When it was done, I stood outside the operating room, my arms crossed tightly around myself.

“You kept your end,” I said quietly when Adrian joined me.

“I always do.”

“I will too,” I replied. “But don’t mistake cooperation for submission.”

His gaze dropped to my face, sharp and assessing.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

His car was waiting outside; black, sleek and expensive enough to draw stares.

I hesitated.

“Get in,” he said, already opening the door. We are going to my lawyer’s office.”

“And after that?”

“You move in with me.”

I stopped.

“That wasn’t discussed.”

“It was implied.”

“Implied doesn’t work for me,” I said coolly. “If I’m living with you, there will be boundaries.”

He straightened slowly, towering over me.

“Name them.”

“I get my own room. No unannounced visits. No touching unless we are in public.”

“And in public?”

I met his gaze without blinking. “Convince me.”

For the first time, he smiled.

It wasn’t warm.

It was dangerous.

The penthouse overlooked the city like it owned it.

Glass walls. Muted colors. Controlled perfection.

“This is temporary,” I said, as we stepped inside. “I won’t be kept like a possession.”

“You’re not,” he replied evenly. “You’re a partner.”

I scoffed. “Partners share power.”

He handed me a sleek black card.

“Then start spending.”

I didn’t take it.

“I won’t be bought,” I said.

“You already were,” he replied calmly. “The difference is that you negotiated the price.”

I took the card.

Not because he told me to.

But because I chose to.

That night, as I lay in the unfamiliar bed, my phone buzzed.

Unknown number:

Congratulations on marrying into a world you don’t belong in.

Another message followed.

You won’t last.

I stared at the screen, jaw tightening.

“Watch me,” I whispered into the dark.

Somewhere across the penthouse, a door clicked softly.

And for the first time since signing the contract, I wondered…

Was I the one being tested…

Or was he?