5

Dante's POV

A contract marriage? Really?

I chuckle, the sound echoing through the room. It's not just a laugh—it's one of those deep, mocking ones that make people uncomfortable. I half hope it'll make her squirm, but Sophia doesn’t even flinch.

She’s calm, annoyingly so, with a determined glint in her eyes. It’s the kind of look that says, I know exactly what I’m doing. My laughter dies off, and I lean back in my chair.

“Are you done?” she asks, leaning forward slightly. Her makeup—way too much of it—is hard to miss up close.

I don’t reply. I wish I’d never suggested this meeting in the first place. And now, here we are.

Married to this psycho? The idea alone makes my skin crawl. And yet, here she is, suggesting a contract marriage. Who even does that?

As if reading my thoughts, Sophia arches an eyebrow. “Let me remind you. I had a boyfriend, a decent one at that. But I had to break up with him because I’ve apparently been destined to marry you. Neither of us even likes each other, Dante's, so why are you acting like this is a big deal? What’s holding you back? You want us to be married forever?”

The words “hell no” almost slip out, but I bite them back. Forever with her? Absolutely not. This whole situation is temporary—a farce to appease our parents. As soon as the dust settles, we’ll divorce.

Still, I can’t stop myself from sneering. “Forever?”

“Why else would you hesitate?” she presses. “Unless...” Her lips curl into a sly smirk. “You’re falling for me already?”

I glare at her. “Fall for you? Not in this lifetime.”

Sophia rolls her eyes. “Then what’s the problem? You’re the one dragging this out.”

“Because your idea is stupid!” I slam my fist against the table. My temper flares just the way she clearly wanted it to.

“Don’t yell at me, Dante's,” she snaps, her voice rising to match mine. “Who do you think you are? I’m not some pushover you can bully into silence. You don’t scare me. And let’s get one thing straight—I’m doing you a favor by even considering this mess. If you don’t agree, I’ll walk out of here, go straight to our parents, and tell them this isn’t happening. Your call.”

Her outburst catches me off guard. For a moment, I’m stunned. Where is this fire coming from?

She folds her arms, waiting.

I clear my throat, forcing calm into my voice. “And who exactly do you think you are, throwing out rules like you’re in charge?”

“You need me,” she says simply.

I scoff. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Funny, because I don’t need you.”

Her expression hardens. “Really? The last I checked, your family came crawling to mine for a partnership. And now, here we are. So don’t act like this isn’t mutual.”

My jaw tightens. She’s not wrong, but I hate admitting it.

Sophia leans back, crossing her legs with practiced ease. “Look, the contract is simple. It gives us both an out. We act like the perfect couple for a while, then go our separate ways. Clean break. No messy divorce drama. Our parents can’t force us to stay together.”

“And why do we need a contract for that? Can’t we just make our own decisions?”

“Because marriage is legal, and a contract is legal, too. It’s like insurance. It guarantees no one—especially our families—can stop us when it’s time to split.”

Her logic is irritatingly sound, but I’m not ready to give her the satisfaction.

“Why do you even want this?” I ask. “You’ve made it clear you don’t care about your parents’ wishes. What’s in it for you?”

Sophia hesitates for a moment, then shrugs, her tone casual. “Revenge.”

I blink. “Revenge?”

“On my ex-boyfriend and my so-called best friend.”

Ah, so this is about spite. The pieces fall into place. Her ex must’ve done something unforgivable. Then again, who wouldn’t cheat on someone as dramatic as her?

I don’t press for details. If revenge is her motivation, that’s her business.

“I need you for this,” she continues, her tone sharp. “But don’t get it twisted—I can get what I want without you. This is more for your benefit than mine.”

Her words light a spark of irritation in me, but I smother it.

“So, are you in?” she asks, her voice businesslike.

I study her face. She’s confident, maybe too much so. This contract marriage idea... it’s not the worst plan. Especially if I can turn the tables and make the rules work in my favor.

After a moment, I smirk. “Fine. I’ll agree—but only if I’m the one who sets the terms.”

Sophia’s eyes light up with triumph. She doesn’t even hesitate before reaching across the table to shake my hand.

“Deal,” she says, grinning.

I don’t take her hand. Instead, I rise from my seat, smirking as I head for the door. She can celebrate all she wants—for now.